Switching from one form of mad, UNIT, to the Barge had been culture shock enough. Not dying, being the head of an infirmary that had you deal with things you'd assumed were fictional, being in charge of helping another person's soul had been culture shock to a supreme degree. Sadly, it had nothing on snapping into the culture shock of being here against your will and having to deal with people who wanted to murder you on top of not having the net of the death toll to allow to catch you.

"Yes it is," Martha admitted to the jarring, and she looked down at her lab for a moment. Jarring to be here and not at some place in London; jarring to not be able to leave or travel if she wanted too. Jarring to be in a police state.

"But we do the best we can, I suppose. Find friends, and the like." Perhaps like now.