It was a strange experience, as you held on for dear life to the control console. As Martha Jones had tried to leave the TARDIS, the doors had slammed shut, and the TARDIS had begun to dematerialise on it's own.
"Doctor, I told you I don't want to travel with you, take me back!" said Martha
"I'm not doing this," said the Doctor, turning nobs on the console to no avail. The TARDIS lurched, and he stumbled forwards, grabbing onto the console "The controls aren't working."
He looks down below the console as the floor bucks again "I don't know where we're going, but my old hand's very excited."
"Wait, your old hand?" you asked, as you staggered around the TARDIS, trying to find purchase on one of the raiilings, your irish accent more prominent in your panicked state.
"It got cut off," said Martha "He grew a new one."
"You are completely impossible," said Donna, as she hooked her arms around one of the railings
"Not impossible," said the Doctor "Just a bit unlikely."
Sparks fly from the control console, and the controls fall silent. The TARDIS lurches to a halt, and you stumbled into Martha, who caught you, looking you over with a doctor's eye, making sure you were unharmed.
You, Donna, Martha and the Doctor exchanged looks. Then, as one, you ran for the door. The Doctor made it there first, even pausing to put on his long, brown coat. You all run out into what looks like a junkyard. Pieces of different vehicles and ships are littered around, the only intact thing seemed to be two doors over to the right, with some kind of cylindrical opening, that you had little knowledge of what it was for.
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