Doctor Who: Transmat

Chapter Four

Captain John Evington was annoyed. Since he asked Dale to send the Doctor, he had heard every door open until his own door followed suit. Just outside, the Doctor peered round the doorway then began to enter the room, "Oh! At last! I thought I'd never find-"
"Please, shut up." The Captain grumbled, his head was being held up by his thumb resting on his cheek, index and middle fingers on his forehead; his left hand resting on the desk beside him. The Doctor remained silent. "Sit down." The Doctor sat. "Now, Doctor, you've probably been expecting this; I have questions for you, and you will answer them fully." The Doctor watched him, an eyebrow raised. "So," He slowly leant back in his chair, "Let's start with the basics, shall we? Who are you?"
The Timelord considered his approach to the question for a few seconds before looking Captain Evington in the eye. He seemed to look into the man's very soul. And, although he didn't show it, the Captain of The Alexandra felt a chill go up his spine.
Then the Doctor began.

Clara slowly opened her eyes; she was lying on her back on the floor of the TARDIS. The time rotor had stopped spinning. Had they - she - landed? Clara stood up slowly, caution slowed her movements; she felt slightly dizzy. She noticed the lack of drastic changes to her immediate surroundings: the console was still on fire (although the flames had died down considerably), one of the bookcases on the upper walkway had fallen forwards - books lay scattered randomly on the floor below. Suddenly, Clara remembered the walkie talkie; she looked around, hoping that its location would present itself to her. It didn't.

After the Doctor stopped talking, there was an eerie silence that seemed to clasp it's hand around all the mouths in the room. The Doctor sat, facing the Captain; his old, all knowing stare seemingly keeping him in place while he considered. He considered the Doctor's story. If it was a story and not fact. He sat in silence because he was good at reading people. Most people. He sat in silence, considering, because he could not read the man in front of him.
Then, he decided to come to a conclusion. A conclusion, while giving himself more time to think about this man, would also put across to him that for now he had accepted his story. Thus, he formed his mental conclusion into words, and the Captain spoke, "You'll have to earn my trust. The crew I cannot speak for; and as it seems we're stuck with you, you better make yourself useful."
The Doctor leant forwards and looked the Captain in the eye, "Let's not forget, Captain, that you wouldn't even know the planet was there if you hadn't given the order for the shutters to be raised. You'd still think it was a sun." He leant back, "Try a bit of curiosity and wonder. And maybe, just maybe, be a little impressed."
The Captain was about to ask whether he should be impressed with the Doctor's story or the planet, when a light flicked red on the desktop comm unit; Smithy's voice escaped the small device, "We're approaching the upper atmosphere, I suggest you strap yourselves down, it's gonna be a bit bumpy here on out."

As Smithy had said, the journey was a bit bumpy. The force of the shuttle entering the new planet's upper atmosphere took the pilot by surprise. The Gravity was stronger, and the clouds were lower - and denser. However, Smithy soon became accustomed to it. It was his job, and specialisation, that he got them down to the ground safely. Then he could put his feet up and let the science-y ones do their thing.
After Smithy's request for everyone to strap themselves down, the Doctor had returned to his seat by the exit hatch, the environmental protection suits, and Dale - now asleep. He then sat, wide-eyed, waiting for something to happen. Captain Evington had walked past the Doctor's chair a couple of minutes after he had sat down. The Doctor received neither a second, nor a first glance from the man striding purposefully towards the cockpit. The Doctor assumed he was going to oversee the next moments which could make human history. He could already see the headlines: 'New World Discovered - Saviour of Humanity?' Obviously this new world project would've been about three to four years running before NASA, or anyone involved, was allowed to tell the media that the shuttle they launched three to four years earlier was indeed their saviour, and not a training exercise. It occurred to the Doctor then, that this was probably why he had been put here. If they failed, and never returned, then that would become the excuse.
Then something else occurred to him. Dale was sleeping. They were about to land on a completely new world, and he was sleeping. They were about to breathe air previously uncirculated by the human respiratory system, and he was sleeping. They were about to see and experience things you couldn't dream up one night and remember the next morning if you tried, and he was sleeping.
"Sleeping?" The Doctor half spoke, half whispered, "How do you sleep under these circumstances?" He received no reply. "You look like you've fallen asleep on a train." Dale didn't seem to mind. "There's me talking about curiosity and wonder - and then there's you." He looked over at Dale, "You need some excitement." He sighed, "Well, I'm sure we're going to get it. I can't think of another reason why I'm here." Dale began to snore, the Doctor rested his head against the head-rest on the chair and stared at the ceiling of the shuttle, "Oh, wuppie-doo."

As The Alexandra broke through the lower atmosphere, the clouds appeared to grasp at it, their hands not quite having enough grip.
Then, soon after breaking through the cloud layer, the crew (minus Dale) stared in awe at the sight which confronted them. Something strange covered the landscape, something not seen this dense on Earth in 500 years.
Trees.
The canopy appeared to stretch on for miles. Julia seemed to be utterly captivated. She was grinning. She couldn't wait to escape this metal prison, in which she was incarcerated for a good two years, and actually do some research and science. From above, she couldn't tell whether it was a forest or a jungle. Then something occurred to her - it's a new world. What if it's a forest and a jungle? A fungle. Or a jorest.
Sandy smiled with relief as she saw the forest. She knew this sight marked the end of their voyage. Her mission was about to be more important than ever - keep everyone alive.
Scott was completely captivated by the sight in front of them. He had only ever read about trees in various nature and wildlife data cores. Like Sandy, he also felt relief. But there was also a rising terror inside him; what if something went wrong with the communications to Earth and they were stuck here forever? What if some unknown event happened to kill them all? He shook the thoughts of doubt from his head and looked back to his monitor.
Captain Evington felt nothing close to relief. If asked, he would have to admit that it would be nice to step onto actual ground and breathe actual air (if it is breathable) again. He loomed over Darren Smith, his ship's pilot, while holding onto the handle above his head which was secured to the ceiling of the cockpit. "Remember people, this means our mission is only just beginning. The last two years was a holiday, now the work begins. Smith, level us out and find a place to land."
"Aye-aye Captain." Smithy gently levelled out the shuttle with a slow movement from his hand around the joystick, if he did this wrong, he thought to himself, they would crash. The shuttle glided a good distance above the canopy, which appeared to carpet the surface of the world, all the while Smithy searched for a flat clearing to set down the shuttle. A few, what appeared to be birds, flew up and out of the trees; disturbed and terrified by the noisy contraption flying overhead.

The 'birds', however, were not all that had noticed the alien, metal monster, who's roar echoed along the forest floor. As it flew away, a head - completely invisible against the leafy backdrop - watched its progress sternly. The camouflaged hunter then turned and dropped down the tree, utilising practiced precision and skill, in order to warn its tribe of the foretold prophecy's coming fulfilment.