Ensign Jacob Callahan, security division, Starfleet, assignment USS Voyager, took out his tricorder and scanned the blue box that had, somehow, materialised in the ship.

It was nine feet tall, bright blue, and it seemed (so the tricorder was telling him) to be giving off some sort of chronoton energy. Definitely unusual - if unusual was a term he could apply anymore - to anything. This was Starfleet after all.

He tapped his combadge to give a full report.

"Callahan to Tuvok," he said. "The temporal distortion appears to be emanating from a blue box, in Cargo Bay Two."

"Can you be more specific as to the nature of the object?" Tuvok asked, and Callahan had to suppress the urge to sigh. Pedantic Vulcan. Oh well.

"It's nine feet tall, bright blue, it has what appears to be a lamp on top of it, and it has a sign in… in English!" Callahan stopped in his tracks. "There's no way that's possible!"

"What does the sign say, Ensign?" Tuvok asked.

"It says… 'Police Public Call Box, sir," Callahan said. "What does it mean?"

"Seven of Nine is on her way to assist you, as well as additional security," Tuvok replied. "Keep guard on the … 'Police Public Call Box,' until she arrives."

"Aye sir," Callahan said, taking his phaser out. This was too weird. How could something with an English sign be here?

A moment later, something clicked on the box. He stepped back and aimed his phaser at it, warily. The door on the box opened - the clicking was a locking mechanism, Callahan realised, but why so primitive? A voice came out of the doorway: male, definitely genuine English. British accent, apparently.

"Trust me Martha," the voice was saying. "The Federation of the 24th century were a much nicer bunch than the second Earth Empire…"

Then, a man popped his head out of the door – a young man, apparently human, with long brown hair and sideburns. He stepped out, and, quite inexplicably, grinned at Callahan. He was human - or humanoid - and wore a comparatively old fashioned suit, brown with blue pinstripe, complete with somewhat incongruous plimsoll trainers and long brown overcoat.

"I hope so!" a female voice said from behind him. "They put me in bloody chains!"

"Well," the man said amicably, aiming his words through the door, "I'm sure they didn't mean anything by it. Hello, Ensign," he added to Callahan. The bemused Ensign did nothing. "You must be the welcoming committee!" the man continued, oblivious to the Ensigns befuddlement. "I'm the Doctor, and this," indicating a younger, dark skinned and quite pretty woman that was just stepping out of the door, "is Martha Jones."

"Hi!" she said, waving awkwardly. Callahan felt the absurd urge to wave back, but then aimed his phaser at the 'Doctor' who appeared to be the man in charge.

"Oh, there's no need for that," the Doctor assured him, smiling. "I'm quite friendly. So is Martha, mind you, not saying she isn't."

"Oi," Martha said, nudging his ribs and looking apologetically at the befuddled Starfleet officer. "Sorry, he always confuses people."

"Well," he countered, looking at the walls, and noticing the Borg alcove. For a long moment, he stared at it in shock, the puzzlement, and then finally a look of deadly seriousness came upon his face.

"Oh dear," he said. "That's not good. You aren't one of them," he said to Callahan, "and the uniform suggests..."

He trailed off, and started muttering something about 'the year' and 'uniform is outdated…'

"Doctor?" Martha asked him. "What's wrong? What are those... Green things?"

"Mine," a steady female voice cut through. Seven of Nine, tall, shapely and cold as space, entered the room, and Callahan could not suppress his sigh of relief – she would sort these two nutters out. Behind her came two security officers, phaser rifles in hand. The Doctor stared at the ex-drone for a long moment, and she stared at him. Then she looked at the blue box. Then back at the Doctor. She seemed almost to be processing the visual stimuli in her head like a machine, and finally, she came out with a response.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I might ask you the same question," he said, warily. "Except I think I know the answer."

"You know her?" Martha said, shocked.

"Vaguely," the Doctor said, but didn't elaborate. "Now, you might want to take me to Captain Janeway. I have a bad feeling that she'll need my help, very, very soon…"

"Captain who?" Martha asked. "Doctor, where are we?"

"USS Voyager, registry NCC 74656," the suited man replied. "Intrepid class. Roughly one hundred fifty crewman. Trapped at one end of the galaxy. The wrong end."

Martha looked blank, looking around.

"Trapped?" she asked.

"Long story," the Doctor said. "Now then: the Captain is waiting?" he said to Seven, who nodded.

"Come with me," she said.


Seven of Nine burst onto the bridge as soon as the turbolift arrived. Captain Kathryn - forty something in red command uniform with hard lines where, a few years ago, none had been (the price of commanding a ship so far from home) - looked up, to see that she wasn't alone. A man wearing a dark brown suit, grey shirt and red tie, complete with long brown coat was with her, as well as a woman wearing a red leather jacket, who gave her a sheepish grin.

"Our intruders?" she asked, softly.

"Apparently so," Seven replied. The man flashed her a grin, then went to a console and instantly started pressing commands into a console.

"Who are you?" Janeway asked, motioning to Tuvok, who nodded, and placed a hand on his phaser. When the man didn't respond, the woman smiled, nervously looking at Tuvok.

"Hi, I'm Martha Jones - and he's the Doctor," she said, nodding in the man's direction. He made a gesture in their direction that might have been a hasty wave, but kept pressing buttons. Janeway motioned to Tuvok again, but then Seven of Nine held up her hand.

"It is vital the Doctor be allowed to continue his work," she said. Janeway was baffled (baffled is an understatement, she thought to herself) but Seven would never have placed her trust in anyone unworthy, so she nodded to Tuvok, who backed down, if only slightly. If the Doctor noticed this, he paid it no mind.

"Captain," Harry Kim said, "he's enhancing the shield grid. It's fifty – no sixty – Captain, it's a full one hundred times more effective than it was."

"Well," Captain Janeway said, turning to him, and smiling. "I'd say thank you, but I don't even know who you are…"

The Doctor turned and the look in his eyes was so serious that she stepped back in shock. Martha too was shocked, looking at him as if she had never seen him before.

"I am the Doctor," he said, and for a moment, Janeway waited for a more informative answer.

"And?" she asked, when none appeared forthcoming.

"That's all," the Doctor said. Janeway exchanged a glance with Chakotay, her first officer, who looked half baffled and half annoyed, before looking back to the Doctor. Trust of Seven or not, one hundred times better shields or not, she didn't have any reason to let this man tamper with her ship.

"I'm afraid I'm going to need a little more," she said sternly. The Doctor looked up at her.

Martha looked from the Captain person - Janeway? - to the Doctor, who was regarding her with cool eyes. It had taken a lot for the Doctor to open up about himself to her. How would he react to what appeared to be a military commander ordering him to reveal his secrets?

"Why do you need to know who I am?" he asked, softly. Janeway's frown deepened.

"Random stranger walks onto my bridge, starts messing with my controls, and I'm not meant to care about why and who he is?" the Captain replied angrily. The Doctor continued to stare coldly at her.

"She has a point," Martha said softly. The Doctor gave her a look, and then looked back at Janeway.

"Fine, you wanna know who I am?" he asked. His voice took on a powerful, authoritarian tone that seemed to resonate in the cramped bridge. "I'm a Time Lord from the dead planet Gallifrey, near Galactic Centre, over nine hundred years old, last of the Time Lords, and not in the mood for anything because I'm on something of a mission right now. If you want to know more I suggest you ask your resident Borg."

He turned back to the console, and even Martha looked shocked at the change in the Doctor's demeanour. Janeway looked at her bridge crew, and then spoke softly.

"Senior staff assembly," she said.