“They’re shooting at us!” Martha yelped, ducking back inside the TARDIS as a fragment of blue-painted wood was chipped from the doorframe by some kind of projectile weapon. That had been a bit too close for comfort! “Why’re they shooting at us? I thought you said the people here were friendly!”
“Ah, well…” the Doctor muttered, “I might have made a slight miscalculation. We’ve arrived about a hundred years too soon.” He fumbled at the controls, checking something. “Right in the middle of a… um… period of civil unrest.”