Doctor Who - Storm Warning Fan Novelization

Welcome to the R101

Though most people only heard the TARDIS wheeze and grown, the Doctor was doing an awful lot of that right now as he caught his breath after his encounter with the Vortisaurs, but he quickly recovered. "The Vortisaurs... they're... I did it. I did it, I did it!" the Doctor exclaimed. "The extra momentum generated by the creatures themselves was enough to push the time ship on. And it should have provided enough of a power surge to restore the displacement system just as," he paused. "Doctor, you know, you really must stop talking to yourself at times like this. Terrible habit. First sign of madness, they say."

Though he had managed to save the time ship, the Vortisaurs had not disappeared. They flocked around the exterior of the TARDIS once more as the Doctor turned his attention back to the controls.

"Oh, so you're back, are you? Well, I'm not hanging around to be pecked apart like the last sardine in the can." With the flick of a few switches, the TARDIS took off down the Time Vortex once more.

"Now," continued the Doctor, once more talking to himself, "Can I afford to make a jump straight out of the vortex at this four dimensional dateline? I think I'll have to... Fingers crossed, and—"

The TARDIS dematerialized, leaving the Vortisaurs behind. "Bye, bye!" the Doctor called out, knowing full well that none of the Vortisaurs could hear him, and that even if they could, they didn't speak English.

Back on the R101, a young girl with light blond curls, the very Viola of her age, was writing, reading aloud to herself as she did so. "Memoirs of an Edwardian Adventuress, by Charlotte E. Pollard. Chapter One. Candy floss clouds scattered as the mighty dirigible soared into the black night sky, a black so black it—" She sighed, "Well, what's that supposed to mean?" She continued, "A black so black it... blotted out all but the brightest of the stars. I watched as the full Moon shimmered into view, casting silver rays about the cabin when—"

"Murchford? Murchford!" A voice rang out from behind the door, "This is Chief Steward Weeks. And you were due on duty half hour ago."

"Oh goodness," Charlotte Pollard exclaimed, scrambling away from her writing and towards her closet door, desperately looking for a change of clothes. "Strike a light, is that the time?" she called out, in a rather deeper and unusual accent, very much unlike her actual voice. "Be right with you, Chief Steward Weeks, sir." Muttering to herself, she returned to her normal voice, "Oh no... Where did I put that tunic?"

"Come on boy, what's keeping you?" Weeks called.

"I've been airsick, sir!" The accent was back, "Cor something terrible, sir. Playing with me insides, this flying does."

"Airsick?" Weeks almost sounded insulted, "I don't know why the Purser insists upon bringing me first-timers, I really—Murchford? Purser told me you were Hampshire lad. Well, that's not a country accent you've got there." He rubbed his chin upon this, perhaps the first truly intelligent thought he'd had in years. "Murchford!" he called again, this time banging on the door as well.

"Er, that's right, sir," Charlotte improvised, "I've been staying with me Uncle in 'Ackney, sir. Rubbed off on me something rotten, that it has." She turned her attention briefly back to the closet, muttering to herself, "Cap, cap!" She switched back to her other self, Murchford, "I was just saying to him the other day, sir, Uncle Seth, I says, aint it strange how—"

"Never mind that now, Murchford," Weeks barked. "Are you ready?

With a quick whisper to herself of "Here goes nothing," Charlotte opened the door, greeting Weeks with a somewhat goofy grin. "Steward Simon Murchford reportin' for duty, Chief Steward Weeks, Sir."

With a quick look over her uniform, or rather, his uniform, as he was unaware of 'Simon's' true identity, he begrudgingly remarked, "You'll do. Well, follow me, Murchford."