VS3:13 -- "It All Changes", Part Three
It All Changes - Part Three
After the last few years, London had become pretty experienced with evacuation, and that left Gwen with too much time to think. She'd heard the yelling and had been tempted to go and sort things out - neither Megan nor Jack needed to get into it right now - but maybe she could figure out a solution instead.
It wasn't difficult to talk to Erin and get her confirmation on what Gwen already thought. Trying to capture an alien ship was an act of sheer desperation.
"...not that we aren't desperate," Erin said with the sort of black cheer they were all developing. "Do you want me to talk to the brass about it? Trying to capture one of the smaller ships in a less populated zone might be a little easier."
"Not yet," Gwen said thoughtfully. "Not quite yet. Gotta go, need to make a call."
When Jack and Ianto came back in, later, they were a little rumpled and a little quiet and maybe a little at peace for a bit. She hoped they'd got a little sleep, as well. Ianto had a cup of apology tea and Jack gave her a particularly unrepentant look.
"What about Torchwood Two?" she asked. Jack looked blank. "Oh, come on, Jack, we're a little thin on the ground to be ignoring the only other Torchwood division. I've been talking to Archie," she went on, and grinned at Jack's wary look. "Not just recently, either. I figured it couldn't hurt to keep in touch."
"He must have been on his best behaviour," Jack muttered.
"Maybe he just likes Gwen better than you," Ianto quipped, trying to refasten a loose cuff without being obvious about it. Gwen swung back and forth in her squeaky chair and suppressed her smile.
Jack scowled. "That's not a recommendation-"
"Archie says he has a ship," she interrupted. Both Jack and Ianto froze. Gwen grinned. "That flies. In space." She paused. "Sort of."
"What do you mean, 'sort of'?" Ianto asked, warily.
"Is this the part where I say 'What a piece of junk?'" Ianto asked, leaning close to Jack. They had been standing in the plass when a sudden wind from nowhere had kicked at their trousers and then a... space ship had appeared in mid-air, yawing wildly. It looked almost exactly like a flying saucer made of ugly pink plastic, and only just fitted into the open space of the deserted plass. It wobbled, settled on to the paving stones with a crunch, then tipped over with a rather louder kerchhnk as it crushed most of the stairs on the far side. Jack groaned.
"I'll take that as a yes, then." Ianto sighed. A thudding roar drowned him out as the Valiant hovered above Cardiff, massive engines going, ready to escort them and ward off any attack. It had been called from a major battlefield, just for them. Even without the hope of victory resting on one salvaged alien ship, Torchwood's role was critical, and Ianto knew people had been dying up there while he stayed safe down below. He glanced up at the sky, past the massive bulk of the Valiant. Now it was his turn.
"No, it's all right," Jack said. "He just doesn't know how to fly it."
Considering that Archie had flown all the way from wherever he hid in Scotland without getting shot down by the Swarm, Ianto thought Jack was being a little uncharitable. The UNIT troops huddling in the shadows with them - in front of them: Ianto and Jack had been firmly pressed to the rear, over any protests - raced out to surround the ship, heavy-duty machine guns unslung, and then escorted the two men who dropped out of it back to Jack and Ianto.
"Archie," Jack said flatly.
"Hey there, Happy Jack," they chorused. Ianto blinked. Archie was... Archie. Squared. Identical down to the cigarettes hanging from their mouths, even their eyes moved in tandem, and that made a shudder creep up Ianto's back. "Don't see why I couldn't have just popped up to space from home, thrown in a can of Raid, and called it a job well done," they said.
"Because you'd evaporate once you crossed into the magnetosphere," Jack told him. "You're not real, remember? Give me the key."
Archie (both of them) looked briefly offended, then shuffled their feet. "Well, that's the problem."
"No key?" Jack asked, wincing.
"Nope. Never found it."
Jack sighed, then smiled. "Well then, I guess it's time for me to show a bit of flash."
"What exactly does 'no key' mean?" Ianto asked under his breath as they raced across the open plass, UNIT rattling around them and the bomb in its case bouncing heavily on Ianto's back.
"No shield." Jack leapt up to an oval hole in the ship and hauled himself in, then reached down for Ianto. "No weapons." He paused to give Ianto a wink. "Just a bit of fancy footwork, but I'm good at improv."
Mickey crouched behind the dead cow, grimacing at the normal-sized, Earth-dwelling, absolutely common insects that buzzed around the corpse. He didn't think he'd ever be able to appreciate flies again. Not that he had before.
There was a quiet hiss as the alien ship's hatch opened and feelers, giant-sized feelers, poked out. Mickey ducked lower, peering around the... wrong end of the cow. Damn! Captain Beefcake would have been looking past cow-nose, not cow-arse. The landing ramp extended, and the bug scrambled to the ground. It paused, feelers waving, then scurried off. It must have sent the all-clear to its bug-buddies, because a second later the ramp swarmed with creatures leaving the ship. Mickey did his best to get a count, but it was impossible. Some of the things flew, streaking out cross-country, headed toward Kabul. Bloody reinforcements, as if they didn't have it bad enough already.
The exodus only took a few minutes. The hatch closed behind the last one out and the ramp pulled up. Mickey signalled his team to move in as soon as the last bug was out of sight; they didn't have time to play it safe. They'd already observed several ships, and all of them made a pretty quick turnaround. He leapt up and raced for the ship, the others running from behind the rocks and out of the small stand of stunted trees. Someone gave him a boost and he leapt up, slapping the UNIT device onto the hatchway. God, he hoped it worked. More hands grabbed him, supporting him against the hull as he waited.
One. Two. Three. On the count of three, the hatch rotated and the ramp dropped - literally dropped - with a thud. Mickey grabbed the device, yanked it free and handed it to one of the US troops, who stuffed it into his pack. Mickey jumped down, steadied by the strong hand of an Afghan warrior when he stumbled on the rough ground. The man grinned and slapped Mickey on the back, knocking him forward, before joining the rest of the men charging up the ramp.
Mickey followed quickly, not wanting to be too far behind his team as they stormed the ship. He led a mix of Afghani and US army soldiers who had been trying to kill each other only a couple of weeks ago. It was an uneasy alliance, but as long as these damned alien monsters kept coming, he figured it would hold. Afterwards, all bets would be off.
He heard shouts and the sound of fighting ahead of him. No gunfire. Mickey had ordered them not to shoot the place up; they needed this ship in one piece. He flattened himself beside the hatchway, poking his head quickly around the corner before going in. His men had won, and it looked like no one was bleeding or holding a stump. They were getting better at fighting the monsters. Uraz was laughing, lifting the body of a giant bug - some kind of beetle - on his sword.
"Mickey!" His accent gave the name an unusual twist. "Look! Another trophy!"
"Good job, Uraz! But, damn! Those things stink." Mickey wrinkled his nose at the damp, musty smell that always pervaded the places the bugs were. "Like three-day old vomit. Put it in the back if you're going to keep it."
Uraz grinned and dragged the other corpse with him when he went to stow his prize.
"Prescott!" Mickey called to one of the US troops. "Get the ramp up, get the gear stowed, and get everyone strapped in."
"Yes, sir!" Prescott hurried to carry out Mickey's orders.
"Yeah," Mickey said with a grin. "I could get used to that." He hadn't been sure that volunteering as a guard for Médecins Sans Frontières had been a good idea, but Susan was pretty, blonde, and a doctor. When he'd said he'd follow her anywhere, he'd meant it. Now she was working with the other medical folk to patch up soldiers and save lives for the fighting, and for once he was in the right place to make a difference. Guess it had worked out.
Mickey leaned his gun against the console and slid into the pilot's seat. He looked at the controls.
"Hey!" he yelled. "Anyone know how to fly this thing?"
Jack renamed the ship Victory, in hopes that she would bring it. In any case, it was better than Archie's suggestion, the Daft Goose. Victory wallowed on takeoff, then slewed sideways, tilting crazily towards the ground when Jack over-compensated. Apparently, the ship's controls were more responsive than he'd given her credit for. He could feel Ianto's stare as the craft wobbled back and forth before settling down.
"Better strap in," Jack called to his passengers. "We'll be dodging bug ships down here, and free-floating once we hit space."
"Free-floating?" one of the UNIT team asked.
"No gravity. It'd be a waste of resources on a ship this size," Jack answered. "Besides, zero-G is fun!"
They were still pushing through the lower atmosphere when the Valiant's guns opened fire. Enemy craft veered off suddenly, some exploding into flaming debris, as missiles streaked down from their protector. Jack tried not to think about where the debris might be falling. He pushed the engines as hard as he could, burning fuel to get them through the heavy air. Finally, they nestled under the belly of the Valiant.
"Valiant, this is Victory," Jack said. "We're in position. Ready when you are."
"Affirmative, Victory. Stick tight. We'll take you as far as we can."
Jack matched the Valiant's course, enjoying the skill needed to keep Victory positioned precisely below the larger ship. It had been a long time since he'd been able to fly, really fly. His heart thundered in his chest and, for a single beat, he was nearly blind with the yearning to push the throttle forward once they hit space and keep going. Thrill streaked through him like electricity, pure freedom calling him...
"Jack," Ianto's voice sounded next to him. "Are you all right?"
He took a deep breath and settled himself, knuckles white on the control yoke. "This is fun," he said, turning to Ianto with a big grin. "You should try it some time."
Ianto frowned, but didn't pursue the matter. Good enough.
"Victory, this is Valiant. This is as high as we go. There's an open space starboard. You should be able to slip out here with them none the wiser. We'll warn them off and draw any fire if you attract attention."
"I see it, Valiant," Jack said. "Thanks for the escort. Save a place for us at the pub; we'll be home in time for dinner."
"Good luck and Godspeed, Victory. Valiant out."
Jack peeled Victory away from the Valiant's cover and slid into open space, free from the Earth, free from bugs - at least for a minute or two. Then they were slipping past other ships, bug ships, some going down to the planet, some returning for more troops and weapons. They fitted right in among the bug's scavenged fleet. Jack checked their position, aiming for the ship they'd pinpointed as the centre of all communications traffic.
The console beeped insistently and a purple light started to blink.
"Damn!" Jack swore. "Oxygen scrubber malfunction." He leaned over and worked the controls, trying to get the things working again. It wouldn't be deadly right away, but let one thing go and- Another light blinked feebly a couple of times before going out. "Ianto. Take the wheel."
"What?" Ianto looked at Jack, eyes wide, shaking his head.
"The yoke! Take the yoke."
"I can't fly."
"It'll just be for a minute. Come on," Jack ordered.
Ianto grabbed the control yoke, gripping it tightly, while Jack flipped open his vortex manipulator and tried to patch into the faulty software. The ship rolled up and down like a roller coaster.
"Keep her steady," Jack said without looking up from his work.
"I'm trying," Ianto said, his voice strained.
"Just... another... there!" The lights on the console went back to normal and Jack grabbed the yoke.
Ianto dropped his hands, scrubbing his palms on his trouser legs.
"We'll make a pilot of you yet," Jack said.
Ianto shook his head and went over the schematics for the target ship one more time.
Jack carefully mimicked the motion and trajectory of the outbound ships, trying to pass for just another craft reporting back. He had the necessary call signs covered, thanks to Naz. At last, he sighted the bug's command ship surrounded by an orbiting array of guard ships.
"Ianto. There she is," Jack said, nodding towards the looming craft as he circled, aiming for the docking hatches near the rear and closer to the engines. "Look sharp, Captain. This is it."
The UNIT strike team was led by Captain Muller, a veteran of the Sontaran battle. He floated forward, pushing off on the walls, and hung over Jack's shoulder to get a look at the ship.
Muller whistled, long and low. "That's a sight I never thought I'd see, even working for UNIT." He grinned down at Jack, his hawk-like nose and scarred cheek giving the expression a frightening aspect. "Mum always said I'd never amount to anything. Now here I am. Seeing new sights and blowing them up. Gotta love it!" He gave a harsh barking laugh, slapped the back of Jack's seat and returned to his squad where he began running equipment checks.
Ianto turned to watch Muller and the UNIT squad. "Did you used to do that?"
"What? Check my gear?" Jack asked, distracted by the control needed to slip the Victory close enough to the bug ship to dock.
"Lead troops. Be a soldier. Take orders."
"When I had to," Jack said. He wanted to see the expression on Ianto's face, read the meaning there, but he couldn't risk a glance. He wasn't sure what Ianto wanted him to say. "And I had to, the first time I met these things."
"Did you like it?"
Jack parked the Victory right next to a docking space, setting the magnetic locks. He turned to look at Ianto. "I was good at it."
The moment stretched long before Ianto finally nodded and grabbed his gear, hefting the phase rifle with a grin. He wobbled a little uncertainly in the zero-G environment before managing to get a firm grip on one of the wall straps. Jack laughed and checked his blaster - sweet, sweet gift from the future - and headed to the Victory's single docking hatch. It took several seconds to establish a lock with the other ship. He was beginning to get worried, when his vortex manipulator beeped, confirming the lock-on.
"All right," Jack said. " In a minute, I'm going to open this hatch. Beyond this hatch will be a force-tube leading to the other ship. Do not touch the sides of the force-tube." Jack grabbed the hand-holds positioned around the hatch. "Grab here, foot here, and push off as straight as you can, or you will find yourself in the vacuum of space. You will not survive the experience. I'll go across first. Muller, you with me?"
"Wouldn't miss it," Muller said, a devilish grin curling his lips.
"Captain Muller and I will cross first, so watch us and see how it's done. I'll get the docking port open and Muller will clear the corridor. Then you'll come across one at a time, as fast as you can. Ready?"
The chorus of "Yes, sir!" was heartening, and Jack opened the hatch.
The force-tube stretched three metres across to the other ship, a coruscating tunnel of blue-green flashes that kept the vacuum of space at bay. Jack launched himself through the tube, landing perfectly on a small ledge next to the controls. Muller followed Jack capably, if not as gracefully, and Jack steadied him on the other side. A moment later, Jack had the hatch open.
Two bugs, caught by surprise, scrambled towards them, but Muller shot twice with the UNIT version of a very primitive blaster. It worked well enough, and Jack helped Muller push the bodies through the tube and into space. Muller eyed the tube skeptically.
"Shouldn't there be a back-up to this? Something solid?" he asked.
"This is the back-up. There's normally a solid docking tube, but it's completely gone." Jack motioned to one of Muller's squad. "Come on! Ianto! You're third."
The UNIT troops wavered in zero-G, landing in odd positions, but without any serious mishap. Ianto made it safely, taking a deep breath and holding it for no reason that Jack could fathom. The eighth man in, however, shoved off at an angle. Jack could see what was going to happen, and launched himself desperately through the tube to stop it. But the sergeant did the most natural thing in the world and instinctively put his hands down to push off from the tube as he neared it. The tube simply ceased to exist where he touched it and the vacuum pulled him through. The sergeant flailed helplessly as he fell outward. Jack reached him, grabbing one booted foot before it vanished completely through the scintillating membrane. Rotating, Jack countered the other man's momentum, frantically grabbing the edge of the hatchway, and pulling them both back into the Victory.
The sergeant floated, coughing and choking, unable to breath. The nitrogen in his blood had already boiled in the low pressure, bursting and shredding the delicate tissues of his lungs. Blood shot from his mouth with each spasm of his body; bright red spheres that drifted around him. He grew weaker with each beat of his heart. It took about a minute, but there was nothing they could do. The other men grabbed him, frantically trying to stop the blood while Jack watched. He'd seen this before.
"Captain Harkness!" Muller yelled from the other airlock. "The tube!"
Jack jerked his gaze away from the dead man. The force-tube was flickering, lights dancing crazily as it fluctuated and nearly went out.
"Damn it!" Jack worked the controls on his vortex manipulator with urgent haste. There were a lot of bugs in this old ship, and not the kind they were about to fight. Good engineering, poor software. He re-routed the programming, slapping in band-aids as fast as he could. The energy shimmered and flashed, becoming increasingly erratic until Jack slipped in a final patch. The tube spat green light across its length, then settled. Jack eyed it with the same mistrust Muller had earlier. He wasn't sure if his patch would hold. Too much going on and not enough time to study the problem. Quick and dirty, it reminded him a little of his days as a Time Agent. Yeah. Those weren't memories he needed right now.
"Right," he said to the rest of the UNIT men. "Leave him and let's go. We've got a job to do."
Jack manhandled the last UNIT soldier through the tube and into the airlock Ianto and Muller were guarding, their toehold into the bug ship.
"Remember, we won't have communications if we get separated, so stay friendly," Jack said, taking point with Ianto and the precious bomb just behind him. "We're as close as we can get to the main coolant intersection, but it's two levels down and aft from our location."
He glanced over Ianto's shoulder towards Muller, giving him a subtle gesture towards Ianto. He was their key, for both the bomb and the skills to set it. He had to live. Muller gave him a nod in reply, and shifted his troops to flank Ianto, who straightened up, looking at him curiously.
"Let's go play hide and seek," Jack said with a grin.
It was quickly clear that this ship, like Naz's, had been captured. There were no corpses - Jack knew the Swarm were fussy about their dead and the Sebacean traders had probably long been bug food - but the hallways were scarred from weapons fire and most of the doors had been wrenched off to prevent any last-minute, desperate barricades. The ship itself wasn't in great condition, its artificial gravity spotty at best, adding an invisible obstacle course to their journey. On the plus side, no bugs seemed to be on patrol.
"Guess they're all down playing with our buddies," Muller muttered.
"Let's hope so," Jack said. "I wouldn't mind a cakewalk one little bit."
"Or a cakefloat," Ianto said as they hit a patch of zero-G again.
They made it down one level, but at the access to the next, their luck began to run out. Jack smelled the bugs before anything else - oh, he remembered that smell now, that horrible smell - and darted forward to shoot blindly at any movement as he spun around a corner. A leggy stick-insect and three workers died before Jack even registered what they were doing: making some sort of repair at an open access hatch. Ianto touched his elbow and Jack jumped.
"We need to keep moving," Ianto murmured, nodding at the T-section ahead. "There and left and down, if Naz's schematics are good."
"Been good so far." Jack jerked a hand at the UNIT soldiers and drew Ianto back around the corner. They watched them slip ahead.
Ianto fidgeted uneasily. "I hate letting everyone else go first," he said.
"It'll be your turn soon enough," Jack said, but after a moment, he nodded in frustrated agreement at the sounds of a brief firefight. Then a sharp, double click - all clear. All clear, but not without cost. The smell of ichor didn't drown out the smell of fresh human blood - one death and one soldier down. Muller crouched down beside her, hands wrapped around a wound in her thigh while their medic slapped a pressure bandage on it. She was sitting in a pool of blood and her face was nearly as grey as the hallways around them.
"We have to leave her," Jack said quietly, stepping away from the runnel of blood snaking along the floor. Muller didn't look up from what he was doing until the bandage was set.
"Right then," he said, pulling out the soldier's gun and slipping it into her trembling hands. "Smythe - hold this position for us."
"Sir," she said faintly. Jack clenched his jaw and looked away.
"We'll be back," Muller promised. "I know you'll be here for us."
Jack took point then, as the squad passed Smythe, each with a brief touch of hands as they went. Ianto's breathing was fast and angry behind him as they scrambled down their next mechanical access hatch. Skewing a quick glance back at Ianto, Jack could see he was furious about something before he slunk up to grip Jack's shoulder and lean into him.
"Muller lied to her," he hissed. "She can't hold-"
"Shut up, Ianto." Jack jerked him closer. "He lied so she could be brave for us. Let her have that. Let us have that."
More bugs clustered ahead in little groups, busily repairing the ship they'd conquered. Jack finally gestured them all into a storage room, where some unfortunate Sebacean's personal life lay strewn under their feet.
"From here on out, it's going to be bugs all the way. Who's got the flashbangs?" Two of Muller's group nodded and Jack gave them quick grins. "Guess whose turn it is to go first."
"I knew we didn't step back fast enough when they asked for volunteers," one of them griped as he pulled off his backpack and unrolled a package of small flashbang grenades. Quick and dirty research by the Chinese had indicated the non-lethal stunning grenades would have the most bang for the buck. They all had earplugs and dark glasses - courtesy of Torchwood's archives - that would protect them from the worst effects.
"You shoulda run," Jack replied with a chuckle. "Okay, I'll hold the rear, everyone else stay together, no stopping until we're in the coolant access chamber. You and you-" Jack pointed to two soldiers. "Stay with me, we're going to hold the intersection so we have a way out."
"I'll make sure our secret weapon here gets to the goal." Muller nudged Ianto then nodded at Jack. "Make sure we have a way back."
"Don't doubt it," Jack said. "I hate Sebacean emergency rations."
The final rush was the terror and relief of a firefight; no more painful sneaking around, just the hammering anticipation of being killed. The pop then ear-shattering ache of the flashbangs turned the final hallway into a strobing madhouse. There were soldier bugs here - long, flat, fast and dangerous. The workers fought, too, and all of them were as likely to drop from the ceiling or leap from a wall as scuttle along the floor. The grenades did as well as promised, and when one of the two munitions men fell, Jack grabbed his pack and started lobbing them himself.
The clang of the blast doors opening made him hoot in triumph, and Jack put his back against it as they closed again, playing blaster tag with the squads of bugs until they tired of dying and pulled back beyond Jack's range of sight. Then came the least fun bit of wartime: hurry up and wait.
"Dammit, Rhys!" Gwen slammed the phone down into its cradle on Jack's desk. "I told you to bloody stay home!" She squeezed her eyes shut tight, put both hands over her face and pressed her fingers into her eyes until she saw spots beneath her eyelids. Her breath was coming quick, wet and ragged, but she would not cry! Not now.
She just felt so useless trapped in the Hub like this. They'd lost communications with Jack and Ianto a while ago. Gwen had finally got a signal out on the eighth try, and now Rhys wasn't answering the landline. That could only mean- No. Gwen shook her head. Not thinking about that.
Martha was out with the UNIT troops, fighting or performing field medic duties, but doing something. And that was where Gwen should be, out helping people, not sitting here helpless. She wasn't that girl.
"Megan!" she called, hurrying out of Jack's office and down toward the med bay. "Megan, we- Oh." She stopped at the railing.
Naz was standing. Megan was helping hir strap on hir artillery belt, and muttering to herself, but Naz held hirself upright under hir own power. Ze looked up at Gwen and spoke. "We are needed. We must fight. We cannot let your planet fall like the others."
"What bloody good the two of us can do..." Megan mumbled under her breath.
"The three of us," said Gwen. "I'll get out the big guns."
Megan's head snapped up to her. "Gwen, you shouldn't go out there. Think of your baby."
"I am. What's the point if there's no world left to bring him into?" She paused. "Or her. We can't just sit here, Megan. But-" she asked Naz, "are you sure you're able?"
Ze nodded and... it looked like ze smiled. "Yes..." ze paused head tilting to one side. "Ma'am."
A polite knock on the blast doors some precious five minutes later made Jack laugh. He stepped forward and fired a warning shot towards the intersection as the doors rumbled open just enough to let Ianto and Muller slip through. Jack didn't ask about the other soldiers who'd accompanied them.
"How long do we have?" Jack asked.
"I gave us ten minutes," Ianto said. "I don't think they can get rid of it in that time. Not without blowing us all up immediately, anyway."
"Ten minutes." Jack took aim and shot off the end of a curious feeler poking its way around the far corner. "Better get running then!"
And he ran. Muller shouted and ran after him, as did Ianto and the two remaining soldiers. Jack flicked a grenade around the corner, the flashbang going off even as he turned it, huge shadows flickering with the strobing flares, gleaming mandibles and flickering feelers drawing his aim. Ianto's Mickless energy rifle added to the blinding lights and sounds as he cleared the hallways. They were halfway back, Smythe unexpectedly still alive and now tossed in a fireman's carry over Muller's shoulder, when the brassy clangs of Sebacean evacuation alarms went off.
"Do you think they can evacuate in time?" Ianto gasped as the bugs attacking them scattered with rasping, frantic calls.
Jack glanced at his vortex manipulator and skidded through a patch of zero-G. "No. Run faster!"
It wasn't the Swarm that got them at the end, and there wasn't a TARDIS waiting to save them.
"So," Muller panted, crouched with the wounded Smythe at his side. "This is a bad thing I take it?"
A few metres away, the Victory waited for them. A few impossible, airless metres. Jack was hunched over his manipulator, trying to get the emergency docking tube to respond and hook up. "C'mon, baby," he coaxed, "come on. Open wide for me."
There was a brief flash of green lights, twisting across from the Victory to the airlock, but it barely touched the hull of the Sebacean trader before dying out again. Jack hammered his fist on the airlock in frustration.
Ianto slumped against the wall and slid down to sit. Jack sank down to join him. Another alarm began to scream, and the entire ship groaned like a living thing as the engines began their final cycle into self-destruction.
"So, this is it, huh?" Ianto had his face turned to the tiny window of the airlock. Jack followed his glance to see stars, small and distant and cold, but beautiful. He was reminded of the last time, sitting in a ship with Ianto and watching the stars and the Earth so far below.
"Yup," he said tersely, gaze darting to Muller, who'd settled down across from them with his remaining soldiers, Smythe unconscious in his arms. He gave Jack a weary smile and a thumbs up.
Ianto turned to Jack, bumped his shoulder gently and gave him a small smile. "Still, it was good, yeah?" he said, and Jack wanted to look away. "I always hoped I'd go out saving the world."
"You did," Jack said, reaching out to take Ianto's hand. "I'm just along for the ride." He pulled Ianto to him roughly, and kissed him fiercely, sliding a hand around his waist and gripping his wrist. He didn't want last-minute declarations and he wasn't going to watch Ianto die. He moved his mouth along Ianto's jaw to his ear and whispered, "Goodbye."
Ianto jerked back and his eyes popped open in surprise. He looked down as Jack tightened his hold on his wrist to fasten the strap, then back up, mouth opening - oh, so outraged and he'd live to be outraged - but Jack keyed the emergency teleport on 626's manipulator, and Ianto was gone.
"No! Damn-" Ianto yelled as everything spun horribly away, a sideways twist inside and Ianto would have puked if he had - a mouth, puke, a stomach, a body - to do so. Jack's face, jaws tight, eyes wet, disappeared. "-it!"
Luckily, he'd landed on his belly, wheezing, because machine gun fire rattled above the clattering rasp of the Swarm, and he was lying in a puddle of alien guts while boots and claws and shouting washed over him.
Ianto roared, surging to his knees, then his feet, and hauled the Mickless Mark XXIIII off his back to hose down a cluster of very surprised Swarm foot soldiers. The entire plass was overrun, clusters of human soldiers backed into doorways and walls, against wave after wave of insect attackers trying to mow their way through flesh and blood to... Torchwood.
"Ianto?!"
He looked up and saw Gwen, big gun slung over her shoulder as she ran to him. She pushed him back and back, stumbling with him out of the thick of it and into an open doorway. Ianto's gaze travelled farther up into the sky as if he could see the command ship hovering there.
"No, no, no." He grabbed at the leather strap around his wrist, fumbling to get it open, but the tiny computer made no sense to him. He tried jabbing at it randomly, but nothing happened. "I can't- This thing doesn't work for me!"
"Ianto, what happened?" Gwen grabbed him by the shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh and bones.
"The ship's gonna blow, Gwen. While he's still onboard! I have to go back."
"You can't! You'll be killed."
"He'll be killed," he shouted, pointing up to the sky. "There'll be nothing left of him!"
Gwen straightened, head high. "It's Jack. He'll come back." She slung her gun round into position, ready to take aim. "We've still got work to do down here, Ianto. Come on!"
He swallowed, took a shaky breath and, with a sharp nod, followed Gwen back out into the fight. "Jack!" Ianto shouted, though his comm was dead and Jack was thousands of miles away, blowing himself to mush. "I'm going to live, you bastard, and scrape you out of the atmosphere and then I'm going to kill you!"
He hosed the area with the Mickless, its stock glowing dangerously hot, and forged a path through the swarm. There were so many bugs and the overloading gun scalded his hands; they felt as though they were melting into the metal.
Knee-high bugs swarmed around him, slashing at his legs, bouncing up like evil crickets to jab at his eyes. Ianto ducked, slipped in ichor, fell on his elbow. He made it back to his feet, but they kept coming - the buzz of military copters mixed with the sounds of winged insects above him. The bugs had recognised Torchwood's strategic value, it seemed, and launched an all-out assault.
Gwen yelled triumphantly next to him, the big gun in her hand, and blasted two huge, scuttling bugs to paste. Farther off, Ianto spotted Naz and Megan with a group of UNIT soldiers. Naz had something that popped out little sizzling balls of fire and even Megan was grimly killing insects with some sort of flare-like pistol. Ianto grabbed Gwen and they fought their way to them, shoulder to shoulder. There was no way they were going to survive, overwhelmed by sheer numbers, but Ianto kept firing, gun overheating and eyes burning.
Andy blinked at the weapons he was strapping on: a rope belt strung with bottles of bug spray, a few large blades from autopsy, and several long lengths of chrome piping they'd cobbled together from IV stands. Swanson didn't look much different, except for the scrub trousers that had replaced her skirt. They strapped their legs with makeshift foam padding plates, meagre insulation against scrapes and shallow cuts, and double-checked their police-issue weapons. Andy eyed Swanson's taser and wished he'd gone in for the specialist training.
Swanson checked the straps on Andy's stab vest as if she didn't trust him, and he rolled his eyes and lifted his arms while her fingers searched for the Velcro fasteners.
"Mummy, I think I did it right," he mumbled and she raised an eyebrow at him, arms dropping down to her sides.
"All right, Davidson, I think we're ready."
They hurried to the end of the hallway where Bashir and two others, probably nurses, waited for them. Swanson looked through the tiny window in the door.
"I don't think they've found us yet, but we're going to go out this way. The left side was still rather sound the last I heard, so we'll start in that stairwell and go up." She glanced at Andy. "We push on up, see how far we get, five floors isn't that bad. And if we have to punch a hole, we use fire. Got it?"
Andy lifted the cigarette lighter in his hand, running his thumb over the roller until he had a flame. "Got it."
Another round of back-patting and "if we don't make it," and then she and Andy were out the door. Just being on the other side of the metal sent a shiver up his spine. From their right he could hear the distant scritter and chatter of the bugs, their chirrupy-chirrup noises and what sounded like thousands of hard carapaces clacking in motion, like strings of children's beads all clicking together, multiplied by millions.
Swanson pointed down the left hallway and tapped her nose, and he nodded, then followed her trot at a quick clip until they hit the stairwell door. Andy peered into the window over her shoulder, but the little he could see was clear. Swanson pressed her ear to the door, as if that would tell her what was on the other side, but she shook her head, then gave a wry smile as she held up three gloved fingers. Hah.
Count of three, and the door swung wide, as they readied their bottles of spray, the first of many, Andy wagered. The stairwell was empty, emergency lights flickering pale dirty grey. They both leaned into the doorway and glanced up, heads tilted, listening for the telltale sound of infestation.
Nothing.
He opened his mouth to say, 'It can't be this easy,' but she silenced him with a glare, and then pointed at their feet, miming something he interpreted as 'fast and quiet,' and he nodded. And then they were up.
Andy had never been so glad that he hadn't had a heavy lunch as they double-timed it up the stairs, their rubber-soled shoes quiet on the unfinished concrete, up to level two, three, four, and almost to the roof. He could feel the vibrations of their movements as they ran, spray bottles at the ready.
They could see the roof access door when they heard it, the motion below them, and Swanson turned to look. Andy grabbed her by the upper arm. "Just go," he said urgently. Anyone who stopped to look was always a goner; it was in all the movies.
Swanson shrugged him off, and reached for the door to the roof stairwell before she paused and turned to him, her face a mask of confusion.
Her eyes were wide when she nodded to the door. 'There,' she mouthed, indicating the other side. Andy put one hand on the flat of the door, like feeling for fire, and he could feel the vibrations under it. He put one ear to the coolness of it, put his hand over his other ear to block out the sound coming closer from the stairwell, and sure enough, there it was. Right there.
They were so close.
Swanson handed him the aerosol can and drew her baton. Andy fished the lighter from his pocket, giving her a nod, and she mouthed the countdown before shaking her head. "Sod it, ready, set, go!"
She swung the door open and Andy whipped the can up, flicked the lighter, and depressed the nozzle. The narrow stairwell to the roof was rife with bugs, small- and medium-sized ones, probably because the bigger ones couldn't fit through the open door ten stairs up. The makeshift flamethrower did its job, and the bugs swarmed along the walls, but as he sprayed it back and forth he could hear the sizzling and popping of some of the smaller ones as they burst in the heat.
"Go," Swanson said. "Take your chances, constable, they're coming from below!"
There was nothing for it then. Scrum time. Andy pushed forward, trying to bury thoughts of that Indiana Jones movie, and also of the unfortunate Mr. Lloyd. The bugs lined the walls and the floor, but they didn't like the fire, and they stayed on the cement to which they clung, or otherwise crunched under his feet or bit uselessly at his boots. It was a good thing Swanson had traded in her pumps for a pair of borrowed boots.
They plodded up the steps, trying to not go too fast so that they could avoid the plume of fire that might drift back if they ran. Already Andy could feel the lighter growing hot under his fingers, and it was just a matter of time before the spray ran out or the lighter flickered. He did not want to be in this stairwell when that happened. Swanson pressed behind him, swinging her baton.
They stumbled outside into a river of insects, the blackness of them almost a living carpet on the rooftop. Andy dropped his empty spray can and dove into his satchel for the flares they'd scrounged, ripping the casings and igniting the rods; he tossed a few and used one to fire a fresh blast of spray. He could hear Swanson doing the same on the other side of the helipad, but turned at the abrupt ffbvzzt of her taser and her shout. The largest beetle he'd seen yet bore down on her. She clipped one of its legs with the baton and tasered it again in the eye, but it kept charging. Andy swept about with his flare and raced toward her. The beetle reared back as she blasted the join of its head and carapace, and one of its legs swiped Swanson hard enough to send her flying.
Andy watched, horrified, as she sailed a few metres, the back of her head ramming the brick ledge of the rooftop as she landed. He had no time to think; the beetle veered toward him - as stropped as fuck, if he was reading the bug-motions right. He raised the flare again to light up his blowtorch, but the excess bug spray had soaked the paper at the top and the fuse had gone out. He threw the flare at the beetle uselessly.
This was it then, he thought as he pulled out his last aerosol can. Might as well try to torch through a safe with a laser pointer. This was how he was going to go out. "All right then," he said out loud. "Let's dance."
The beetle clicked its claws, stuck out a long proboscis rather like the one that had got Mr. Lloyd, and Andy braced himself, trying to anticipate the thing's movements, and then-
Then the beetle froze. And it wasn't the only one; every bug on the roof paused as if they were listening for something. Andy held his breath and waited. The bugs seemed to screech in unison, and then they all moved at once, scattering in all directions, some going in circles. They ran for the edges of the roof and flooded down the sides of the hospital, even the lumbering monster in front of him launched itself off the edge and spread a massive pair of wings that didn't look as if they could support its weight.
They couldn't. In a move that rivalled some American cartoons Andy had seen, the beetle hovered for a split second, and then plummeted straight down, probably to become the biggest bug splatter in the history of Cardiff, Wales.
Andy ran to the edge and watched the bugs go, pouring out of the hospital and surrounding buildings and into the streets, on their way... somewhere. He pushed off then, skidded to a stop beside Swanson, the gravel cutting into the knees of his shredded trousers, and gathered her up into his lap, feeling for a pulse - thready, but there. Her head was bleeding profusely, and when he patted her cheeks and said her name, she didn't respond.
Above him in the sky, a helicopter crossed over the hospital and then doubled back, arcing over the helipad but not landing. Someone hanging from the side door waved an arm, and then the helicopter simply spun about, kicking up all manner of grit. Andy blinked and tried to shield his eyes as the craft sped off through the air.
"Well, all right, then," he said, ignoring the throbbing in his fingertips as Dr. Bashir burst through the roof access door and ran in their direction, head jerking left and right as he took in the roasted bug pieces and the smoking flares. "I reckon we're saved, ma'am."
Swanson didn't reply.
Rhiannon hated monster films. When they were kids, Ianto and his mates used to sneak into the Electro on "Classic Monster Picture Weekend" and try to scare the pants off the rest of the audience by yelling when the giant tomato or ape or ant appeared on the horizon. One time a little old lady, reliving the films of her youth, had suffered a heart attack (they thought) when Ianto's little gang had pulled that stunt during the climax of "The Thing". The Electro owner at the time had called their dad, and Ianto's arse had got a right tanning. Turned out the little old lady had only been suffering from gas, but still, the events were firmly linked in Rhi's mind: monster bugs and heart attacks.
She wished for her brother now, though. The gym was packed with kids, teachers and parents, but she should have been able to spot Johnny above the crowd. She hadn't seen him for fifteen minutes, nor David. She tugged Mica a little closer.
"Hold tight to my hand, Mica, and don't drop your can." Mica gave her hand a squeeze, as if she was the parent here, and Rhi smiled to herself. Brave Mica. She was holding up better than most of the adults.
They had just reached the far corner when a loud screeching filled the gym, followed by a rumble that shook the whole building. Rhi's mouth went dry.
The bugs were inside the school.
The effect on the gym was instant panic. The younger kids, and even a fair few of the older ones, began to cry and wail. Parents yelled frantically for their children to stay close. The singers fled in a wave, tripping, falling. Rhi put her fingers in her mouth and whistled. A handful of teachers and older kids stopped and looked at her, but pandemonium still engulfed the rest. She whistled again. It was immediately followed by a loud, "OI! SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO MY WIFE!"
A heavy hand landed on her shoulder and Rhi half-turned, letting out a sigh of relief. Johnny and David both, along with Susan, Mr. Humphrey the school janitor, and Will Smith - Mica's friend Janie's dad, not the Hollywood actor - all stood behind her, along with another man she didn't know. "Rhi," Johnny whispered, "this is Rhys Williams. From Torchwood."
Rhi looked at him. He seemed so... normal. Not like Ianto in a posh suit, or his Jack in that coat, or Gwen, so lovely and glamorous. Or that doctor, with her ability to make Rhi feel about two inches high. She wanted to speak to him, ask about Ianto, but the gym had finally quieted, and she had a duty. She turned back to the sea of faces.
"Right. Everyone! Little ones to the benches against that wall." She pointed to the far side of the gym, where there were no doors. "There's only two ways into this room. The rest of us are going to block these doors. Be careful of the pincers-"
"Mandibles," David whispered.
"-and go for whatever looks vulnerable!" She wished she had something appropriately snappy to say. 'Stay alive and don't hit a human in the face with your elbow' didn't exactly have a ring to it.
Johnny solved that problem by cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling, "Today, we celebrate our INDEPENDENCE DAY!"
The first bugs chose that moment to crash into the doors.
Chaos broke out again, but more purposefully this time, as little kids raced for the far wall and the adults moved into place behind the doors. Rhi placed Mica's hand firmly into David's and bade them go to the benches, no protests. David got a mutinous expression on his face, but Johnny took him aside and two seconds later, he was pulling his little sister to the other side of the gym.
"I need to be up front," Rhys told them. "For the laser gun." He hefted his weapon and Rhi got a good look at it for the first time.
"Rhiannon, stay behind us," Johnny said, hurrying Rhys along to one of the shaking doors.
"Johnny Davies, I don't know what you've done with my husband to think I'm going to stay behind you! I've got a can of roach spray, and I'm not afraid to use it." He turned to face her and she matched him glare for glare.
"You're both going to get behind me," Rhys interrupted. "As I have the secret weapon."
The door shivered with the impact of several hard-shelled bodies, and Rhi took an involuntary step back. Her free hand crept into Johnny's larger one, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. She took one last glance over her shoulder. She could just make out their kids in amongst all the rest, David's arm protectively around his sister. She gave them a smile, a wavering thing without much strength, but full of love.
The doors crashed inwards.
Rhys Williams stepped forward and fired his laser gun into the pack of monsters. It cut a wide swath through the bugs, and the press of bodies toppled slowly towards the centre as scores of them were vaporised. Rhys let out a half-whoop, half-yell. Rhi and the rest joined in without thinking.
She braced herself for another forward surge, then clapped hands to ears as a screeching wail broke out, and all of the bugs stopped for a moment, before giving almost a collective sigh, then falling silent.
It didn't last long. The bugs snapped to, out of their trance or whatever it was, and sent up a bloody loud shrieking as they scrambled to turn around in the narrow corridors. Rhi's jaw dropped open. Johnny stared at the laser gun. "Did it have that effect before?" he asked.
"No," Rhys answered, staring suspiciously at the thing in his hand. "I haven't a bloody clue why... My wife must have done something."
"Who's your wife, then, the Queen of England?" Johnny asked.
"She's Torchwood. And if she were here, she'd probably be chasing those bugs out the door. Well?" Rhys continued, turning to face the gym and raising his voice. "Are you with me?"
The halls were filled with chaos, the children rushing after their parents and Rhi snatched up Mica's hand before they were swept apart by the rush. The bugs may have been on the run, but they still had their bloody great pincers - mandibles. Rhi watched in horror as Susan was lifted into the air at the end of one corridor. Rhys Williams shot the thing with his laser, but Susan's spine arched and her hands shot out in a jangly movement as the pincers must have triggered nerves and death spasms. Rhi shielded Mica's eyes from the gruesome sight and pulled David to her other side. For once, both children grew quiet.
At least, until they reached the next intersection of corridors. Johnny had acquired a cricket bat from somewhere, and he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Tim, who'd grabbed a fire extinguisher. They were barely holding their own against a group of dung beetles, and Rhi let loose with a series of expletives that shocked her almost as much as they shocked the kids. She sprayed her little can of generic bug killer in the face of a dung beetle and Johnny wacked it with his cricket bat. Mica yelled her own little roar of defiance (it sounded like "SpongeBob or Death!" to Rhi's ears) and sprayed her own can. Tim clunked a dung beetle over the head with his now-empty fire extinguisher and David jabbed at a third with a long ruler, managing to get it stuck in the thing's eye. The last dung beetle scuttled away and then-
"Daylight!" Johnny exclaimed. "Bloody hell, we made it!"
The doors stood wide open in front of them, one side blocked with what looked like the hind section of a roach and the other with the head, the eyes spray-painted out. Johnny scooped Mica up into his arms to negotiate around the dead bug debris, and then they were outside, blinking into a setting sun. Helicopters flew low overhead and smoke and flames dotted the street before them, but they were out, and alive. Rhi had just turned to Johnny, a smile on her face, when something big and dark blocked out the sun behind him.
"Noooooooo!" she shrieked, and raised her can, but someone else was even faster. Little bits of ladybird rained down around their heads, and they all turned to see Rhys Williams in the doorway to the school, brandishing his laser gun.
"Right. Owed that one some payback," he said. "It broke my princess bike."
The Swarm paused suddenly, all of them pulling back with a quivering rustle as a new star bloomed briefly, impossibly, in the twilight sky. "Oh, Jack," Ianto breathed in the moment of quiet.
Their distraction should have got them killed, but the Swarm had its alien, expressionless faces tipped in the same direction, before, in a stunned, wild rush, they fled like roaches under a sudden light. It was only moments before they were left in the deserted plass with only corpses, slime and each other. Ianto lowered his pistol and rubbed at his eyes.
"Ianto?"
He dropped his hand and Gwen barrelled into him, hugging him fiercely. Ianto clung back, burying his face in her hair.
Megan approached and put a hand on Ianto's shoulder. "Where's Jack?"
"Jack's an arse," Ianto choked out, his eyes burning from the smell and soot in the air.
Gwen's arms tightened, but then she abruptly pulled away. "Oh my God. Rhys!" Her eyes were wide, frantic, and Ianto knew how that felt. He called out to a few of the UNIT soldiers and asked for Martha Jones. Soldiers crept out from cover, uncertainly at first, then eagerly, and other survivors - most armed with makeshift weapons - joined the growing crowds. They watched contrails rising into the sky as the remaining Swarm ships fled back into space.
"We've got to get communications back up," Ianto shouted over the din of celebratory cheers. "We need to make sure they've all gone." He set people to work, trying to contact Major Hopps and his troops. Organising, he could do.
"Comms are coming back up," Gwen called to him.
"They've gone, sir," a soldier called out, his radio having finally squawked back into life. "All ships leaving Earth's atmosphere now. Awaiting orders, sir!"
The ships became smaller and smaller as they rose up into the sky, but the roar above grew louder, then louder again. Ianto looked up to see a speck dropping from the sky - a ship, rocking and yawing like a kite. The soldiers shouted, ushering everyone back just before the ship dropped onto the plass in a glass-shattering crash as it slewed into the edge of the Millennium Centre. It creaked and hissed, steam rising from the chunky metal hull.
Ianto hefted his gun uncertainly as a hatch - looking as though duct tape and spit were all that held it together - literally fell to the ground. Steam rolled out of the ship in a rank cloud and a dark figure clambered out and jumped down.
"Oi! I found something of yours," said Mickey Smith, swaggering toward them with a grin.
"You were right, Ianto," Jack's voice boomed across the plass, "showing a bit of ankle did the trick." He strode out of the clinging trails of steam, grinning, brass buttons gleaming in the last of the sun, hair ruffled every which way.
Ianto barely registered the others with him - the remaining UNIT squad - as he felt someone brush past him. Gwen. She ran all out and threw herself into Jack's arms.
"I knew it. I knew you'd make it!" she said, pulling him down to wrap her arms around his neck.
Laughing, Jack hugged her fiercely, lifting her a few inches off the ground before setting her back down. He sought Ianto's eyes, his grin wavering, slowly making his way over. He stopped just a couple feet in front of Ianto, opened his mouth and-
Ianto shoved him hard, shouting, "You bastard!" He tangled both fists in the lapels of Jack's coat and swung him around, furiously. "You absolute, utter, fucking bastard!"
Jack staggered and flung his arms around him, the only reason Ianto didn't punch him right then. He buried his face in Jack's coat and clutched him tight before shoving him back, jabbing his chest with a finger. "My life. My goddamn choices." Jack covered his hand with his own and Ianto tugged him into a hug. "You bastard," Ianto whispered. "If you ever do something like that again-"
Jack cupped his face in both hands. "You can be angry with me tomorrow. Right now, I wouldn't change a thing." Jack leaned forward and kissed him.
A new roaring filled the air, then a high-pitched squealing and, really, Ianto had had about enough of that. He pulled away from Jack and hefted his gun to his shoulder, at the ready.
A double-decker bus came tearing around a corner and drove right onto the plass, then skidded to a stop, crushing hard exoskeletons beneath its tyres.
"Secure the area, we've got civilians!" one of the UNIT soldiers shouted. "Survivors!"
"Who's that?" Mickey asked, coming to stand at Ianto's shoulder.
"That's my bloody husband," Gwen said, grinning. She marched forward and reached the bus just as the doors opened. Rhys Williams jumped out, scooped up his wife into his arms and snogged her right there.
He was followed by several school children, still in their uniforms, and adults Ianto assumed were their parents. A woman emerged, carrying a child bundled in her arms. She raised a hand to shield her eyes, but Ianto would recognise her anywhere.
"Rhiannon!" Ianto pelted forward, to hell with dignity, hugging Rhi fiercely while Mica yelped at being squished between them. They reeked of bug spray and Mica was clutching her Barbie in one hand, and a spray can in the other. "Were you fighting? What about David and-" He scanned the growing crowd, and spotted Johnny with a bat in his hand, and David close to his side, looking horribly shell-shocked.
"Oh my god, Ianto." Rhi pushed him back and looked him over. "You're okay, right? Did you kill them all?"
"Fine, I'm fine." Ianto paused because, really, he sort of had killed them all, or at least the leaders. "Uh, kind of?"
Ianto had been ready to die up there, but now he looked around - Rhi and Johnny each with a child in their arms, Gwen and Rhys holding each other, a point of stillness in the mob around them, and he wasn't dead. He was alive and his friends and family were alive and that was what he needed. All he needed. Jack was standing alone by the dented water tower, arms crossed, watching the developing celebration with a quiet smile.
"Go on then," Rhi said with a small shove. "We're going to loot some food before the kids get too hungry."
Ianto smiled, hugged her again, then pushed his way through the crowd to the tower.
"Looks like the end of World War II," Jack said, rocking on his heels. "This'll go on for days, probably. Then-" he waggled his brows, "a baby boom nine months from now."
"They'll grow up in a whole different world," Ianto said. People were shouting names to each other, looking for family and friends, and if there were cheers and laughter, there were tears as well. Everyone kept their weapons close.
"Every generation does."
"We didn't get them all, Jack."
"No." Jack tipped his head back to scan the sky and Ianto wondered if all this time, as Jack lurked on rooftops, he had been watching for this. "But they won't come back. If they do, we'll be ready."
Jack peered past the backstage curtains and gave a low whistle. "Full house, Gwen. You're gonna knock 'em dead."
"Easier with a sonic blaster," Gwen muttered, fidgeting with her jacket. Didn't matter what she did, no maternity top was going to cover the bump or make her look any less pregnant on camera. In front of the whole world. "Why does this fall under my job description exactly?"
"Gwen," Ianto replied, calmly, "of the four-" He stopped, sliding his eyes into the shadows where Megan stood with Naz (covered up, head to toe). "Of the five of us, who is the most suited to public speaking and diplomatic relations? And besides, I called 'not it'."
"Hey," said Jack, "I'm a marvelous public speaker."
Gwen exchanged a look with Ianto. "Right." She took a deep breath, tugged at her top once more. "Here I go, then."
Jack took her hands, stopping her. "Hang on a minute."
"I should go," Gwen said, glancing anxiously toward the stage. "They're waiting." She thought of all the dignitaries - the UN, UNIT, actual world leaders - waiting for her to begin the conference. Gwen Cooper, Torchwood's chosen representative to the world.
"Think big, Gwen. On a cosmic scale, a delay like this won't even register," Jack said, squeezing her hands.
"But-"
"You can do this, and they-" Jack jerked his head past the curtains, toward the crowd waiting for her, "need to know that there's more to Torchwood than killing aliens. I might be pretty good with a blaster, but you... you can give them charts and graphs, safety programs and international cooperation." He shrugged, dropping her hands and stepping back. "It won't be all beer and skittles. There'll still be weevils to track and Rift victims to care for. But, it's a start. 'A journey of a thousand miles' yadda yadda."
Ianto rolled his eyes. "Go on. I'll keep Mr. Inspiration here from offering you any more advice." He smiled, and nodded toward the stage.
Gwen glanced past Jack. One of the conference managers gestured frantically, urging her to get a move on. She stepped forward, a single spotlight catching her movement and following her to the podium. A smattering of polite applause trickled through the audience, most of the them not yet knowing who she was.
"Ladies and Gentlemen. My name is Gwen Cooper. I'm Torchwood." She paused. "A few days ago, everything changed..."
END