CROSSOVER FIC: Line of Confluence [TW/Blake's 7 | Avon, Jack, ensemble | 2/5 | PG]
Title: Line of Confluence (2/5)
Author: jinxed_wood
Rating: PG13
Spoilers Blake's 7, season 2/ Torchwood, season 2
Characters/Pairings:Jack, Avon, ensemble.
Disclaimer: Both belong to the Beeb, all hail the almighty Beeb…
Summary: Sometimes a cube really isn't just a cube!
Previous parts: ONE
~~~Line of Confluence: Part Two ~~~
The Liberator: Third Century of the Second Calendar
No matter how much he tried, Jack couldn’t shake the feeling he was in one of those holo-projected field trips his tutors had been so fond of, during his first year of the Academy. He could see it now, old Winters droning on about temporal ethics, as pseudo historical characters pranced around in the staged holographic story.
“Imagine you find yourself in the precarious situation of influencing one of the major nexuses of human history. What would you do?”
Not that it could happen, of course. The Vortex Manipulators, given to all Time Agents upon graduating, were all devised with certain inbuilt precautions; like not being able to access certain pivotal years or people in history.
People like Roj Blake, for instance.
If Jack were honest with himself, he was feeling a bit star struck.
“So, what do we do?” he asked aloud. “Obviously I can’t just stay here. The cube device must have opened up some rift and facilitated a swap of consciousnesses… oh, stop looking at me like that, I know it sounds crazy. Just work with me. I’ve dealt with this sort of thing before.”
“Oh, you have, have you?” Blake said shortly. “And how would a human, from the twenty first century of the old calender, know about such things? From the little I know about your time period, humanity had barely made it to the moon.”
“Then I’m guessing your history books are missing a few chapters,” Jack lied. He was from the twenty first century, that was his story and he was sticking to it. If he revealed he was really from their future, everything could go to hell in a hand basket.
Vila snorted a laugh. “I’ll say this for him, he’s got a good sense of timing.”
“This is not funny, Vila,” said Jenna, the pilot.
“Oh, come on, Jenna, even you have to admit that this is rather amusing,” Vila said. “I mean, look at him. It’s Avon, right up the moment he opens his mouth, and then this smooth talker suddenly appears….personally, I think it’s an improvement.”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “You would.”
Jack decided to change the subject. “Listen, I hate to be a pain, but I’d like to know who went back in time to my body-” His stopped suddenly, as the name suddenly clicked.
Avon.
As in Kerr Avon.
The man who broke academic consensus when it came to deciding which side of Federation history he really was on; the good guy or the bad guy, nobody really knew. Jack remembered that the only thing the lecturers back in the Academy could really agree on, was the fact that he was a real piece of work.
One of the most devious minds in human history was now wandering around in his body in the twentt first century. Sparks would fly, governments could very well topple. Damn it, he really hoped Ianto didn’t piss him off…oh, who was kidding, he needed to get back home fast!
Jack tried to not let the panic show on his face.
Cally eyed him coolly. ”He’s holding something back,” she informed Blake.
“Is he now?” Blake said, “Why am I not surprised?” He turned and called out to the computer screen, “Zen, how many hours until we reach our destination?”
"Seventeen hours, and twenty three minutes,” the computer said, and Blake nodded. “Inform me when we’re about to make orbit.” He turned to Jenna and Cally. “My contact said that Doctor Retsam was one of the main researchers when they did the initial tests on the cube. If anyone has any answers it’s him.”
“I still think this is a stupid idea,” Vila said. “Without Avon, we might as well stroll in there and wave a red flag in their face.”
Blake gave him a studied look. “Are you saying you can’t break into the facility?” he asked.
Vila pulled a face. “I’m saying that I can’t do as neatly as Avon would.”
“Well, Avon isn’t at home, is he?” Blake said, as he stared at Jack.
Jack sighed, something told him that a bright smile wasn’t going to get him anywhere. It could be worse, he told himself. He could be still strapped to the bed in their med bay. He looked up, and caught Blake glowering at him. Huh, maybe that wasn’t that much of an improvement, after all.
~~~**~~*~~**~~~~
Cardiff : 2009
Their…base... was a rough concoction of near stone aged technology, and items of obvious alien origin. Avon looked around disdainfully. “And you seriously think that you can help me?” he asked, turning on them.
The girl called Gwen shifted aggressively on her feet. “Let’s put this way,” she said. “There isn’t anybody else queuing up to help you.”
He pulled a face. “A fair point, I suppose.” He eyed the cavernous room, and the empty levels above. “Where are the rest of your compatriots?”
She looked away. “We’re it,” she said quietly.
Avon decided not to push, he recognised that look on her face. “Well, the first thing we’ll need to do is a full phasic analysis of the artefact,” he said briskly.
“A what?” Gwen asked, before turning to Ianto.
“Never heard of it,” Ianto said flatly. “And if I haven’t heard of it, we don’t have it in our arsenal.”
Avon looked around and, for the first time since he’d awoken, gave them a genuine smile. “I don’t think that will be a problem,” he said. “I presume this mausoleum had some lab space?”
“Right, you’re from the future,” Ianto said, “I must remember that…actually, there might be a few artefacts we’ve found over the last few years, that you can help me with.”
Avon raised an eyebrow. “What happened to that lecture you gave me in the vehicle, the one about preserving the space time continuum for the good of humanity.” Avon smiled once more, this time with all the warmth of an artic expanse. “Let me guess, you can always think of an exception.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Fine, forget I said anything,” he said.
“Oh, don’t worry, I will,” Avon said. “Now, if you could just show me-” he stopped, dead in his tracks, as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a glass partition. "Good grief, l look like one of those characters from those entertainments they concoct for the grade threes...”
"Hey, that's my friend's body you're walking about in," Gwen protested. "And I can't believe I just said that."
That makes two of us," Avon said crisply. "The artefact, let me see it. The sooner we're all back in our respective places, the better."
“Well, you can always try clicking your heels three times,” Ianto suggested dryly. “It’s the tried and approved method.”
Avon gave him a withering look. “I’m sure, given the correct cultural background, I would find that comment both witty and erudite but, as you can plainly see, I fail to garner any amusement from it.”
“Oh, you‘re going to be a right barrel of laughs, aren’t you?” Gwen sighed.
Is that a question or an observation,” Avon asked absently, as he looked down at his clothing. What in the name of the Federation’s charter was he wearing?
“Oh, I’m leaning towards the latter,” Gwen said.
Avon looked up at her. “Bright girl, now let’s get to work.”
“Right this way,” she said crisply, “Tosh’s old lab-” She paused, and Avon mentally filed the name away. There was a history here, a recent one; and it may be useful to know about it if he was stuck here longer than he intended. “There’s a tech lab this way,” she eventually said, and he nodded silently before following her up the iron steps.
~~~**~~*~~**~~~~
“”Listen, guys, I want be back in my original body as much as you do,” Jack said, from his designated spot on the Liberator’s couch. “Trust me, this new form is a real downgrade for me.”
“What, your original body have super powers, or something,” Vila said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“I don’t think he’s talking about the body’s abilities, so much as its aesthetic attributes,” Cally said, her lips twitching. Once she’d decided that Jack was not a threat, she displayed quite a sly sense of humour. Jack supposed that that was a distinct advantage for surviving this crew, especially if you were a telepath.
Vila’s eyebrow’s shot up. “Oh, well, so sorry you don’t find your body pretty enough for your exacting standards.”
Jenna began to snigger at her console. “I don’t believe this is happening, she said, “I mean, look at the way he’s sitting on the couch. He’s acting like one of those entertainment companions on Space City.”
“Huh, he wishes,” Vila said, his eyes growing distant. “Pity we burned that bridge, I could do with a little rest and relaxation myself.”
Cally gave him a cool look. “Yes, nothing like a holiday snuggling up to the Terra Nostra to make one's worries drift away.”
Vila pouted “You make it sound so sleazy.”
"Not a difficult chore," Cally said. "Considering how they make their income."
Jack went through in his mind what he knew about this time period. The Terra Nostra were an organised crime cabal, even more psychotic that the Mafiosi families of the Twentieth Century. From the way Cally and Vila were talking about them, there was a story there, and not one covered by history lessons at the Academy.
Typical, the Academy always whitewashed the truth when they could get away with it.
“Maybe I can help,” he said.
“Help with what?” Jenna asked.
Jack smiled, but quickly pulled a straight face as Jenna stiffened. He guessed Avon didn't smile a lot. “Well, I’m handy around the house…or the great big alien ship, whatever comes first.”
Cally looked at him distrustfully. “Oh yes?” she asked. “And how is that? Something you’re not telling us?”
Jack gave her a level look. “You already know the answer to that,” he said. “Just like you know that I’m telling you the truth when I say I’m not the bad guy here.”
“I don’t know anything,” she said. “It would make life a lot easier if I did.”
“But you can make a good guess,” Jack countered.
“I thought you couldn’t read the mind of someone who wasn’t telepathic, Cally,” Vila said suspiciously.
“I can’t,” she mused, looking at him, and Jack felt a moment of misgiving. Obviously, she didn’t have much experience meeting others with empathic ability. Not that he was anywhere near a full blown telepath, but he had enough ability for her to pick up on.
“Listen,” he said. “There’s always going to be more to this story than I’m saying, but you can see my dilemma. We’re talking time travel here and, we both have to be careful. You’ve heard of the grandfather paradox?”
“A theory first proposed by the ancient Earth author, René Barjavel,” Blake said, as he stepped out of the side corridor and joined them on the deck. “A man travels back in time and kills his grandfather, therefore negating his own conception, this would mean that he could not have traveled back in time, and the grandfather would have lived after all; a logical paradox.” He folded his arms. “Of course, that would be only an issue if you were from our future and not our past.”
Jack grinned widely. “Trust, me, Blake, I was exactly when and where I said I was when this happened.”
“And that is an ambiguous answer if ever I heard one,” Jenna said.
“I’m inclined to agree with Jenna,” Vila said. “He’s definitely keeping something from us.”
“But in the end, it doesn’t matter,” Cally said. “He’s in Avon’s body, remember? We can’t exactly get rid of him.”
“Hmm,” Blake said, noncommittally
~~~**~~*~~**~~~~
Avon was half way through reconfiguring an emitter array when the facility’s alarm went off. He cursed under his breath, as the clumsy metallic screwdriver slipped in his hand. Who ever heard of making a phasic scanner manually? He must be crazy.
He tapped his ear mic. “Would somebody please tell me what the hell is going on down there?” he asked.
“No need to worry,” Gwen’s voice answered sharply. “We’ve got it under control.”
Avon frowned at the edge in her voice. “Is it my imagination, or do you sound less than confident about that?”
“Listen, Avon, or whatever your name is, just sit tight and finish making your scanner thing, alright? We’ll take care of this.” The sound of an energy pulse weapon sounded in the background, and Avon scowled with irritation.
“I find myself underwhelmed with a sense of reassurance,” he said. “How many are they?”
He could hear Gwen breathing over the link, she didn't sound calm. “Seven,” she said eventually.
“Human?” he asked, as he eyed the emitter array on the table and began to readjust the controls. It seemed a reasonable question, considering their stockpile of alien technology.
“Humanoid,” she said, and Avon wasn’t sure, but he though the heard the crackle of an electrical fire. He let out a sigh. This was becoming more tedious than the Liberator.
“I have a plan,” he said reluctantly.
“You do?” Ianto’s voice suddenly appeared on the line, and Avon rolled his eyes. It was a wonder these two were still alive.
“Hold them off as long as you can,” he said. “I’ll be with you in a moment. Be ready to cover your eyes when I give the word.”
"You'll need to be fast," Gwen warned.
"I'm working as fast as I can," he bit out, as he rapidly changed the energy parameters of the device. It was always easier to fashion a weapon, rather than a tool. "Just keep them from my door, and I'll do the rest."
He finished the last touches to the grenade and picked it up. It was ungainly, but it would work. He cautiously approached the lab door and looked out over the ramp outside. The energy fire was still on the lowest floor. Gwen and Ianto were keeping them pinned down from the first balcony level. He tapped his mic. “Cover your eyes,” he said, before he dropped the grenade and threw himself back into the lab.
A bright flash glowed though his closed eyelids, and then darkness. Slowly, he got to his feet, and tapped his mic again. “They should be down,” he said.
“That’s one way of putting it,” Gwen said. “What the hell did you do to them?”
“I induced a seizure in their nervous system,” Avon said crisply, as he descended the steps. “As you can see, it’s quite effective. I’d advise you to terminate them before they recovered, but I doubt that such a reasoned course of action, would appeal to you.”
“You doubt correctly,” Gwen said sharply, as he joined her on the balcony level and looked around. The damage seemed surprisingly minimal. “How long before they come to?” she asked.
“Twenty min-” He paused, as he looked down at the alien creature at her feet; it had only vestigial ears and cranial ridges. This was his first true interaction with an alien species. Not an auspicious start. “Twenty minutes, local time” he said. “For humans, at least, I’m not so sure about this fellow here.”
Ianto joined them from the lower level. “Let’s get them into the cells, I’ve stripped them all of their portable transmat devices.”
“Transmat?” Avon echoed speculatively. “That is very sophisticated technology… and rare.”
Ianto ignored him. “One of them said something, before he lost consciousness,” he said to Gwen.
“Spit it out" she said, as she cleared the chamber of her gun.
Ianto took a deep breath. “He said the Master wanted his property back."
The silence drew on, and Avon folded his arms. “Would somebody please tell me what is going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?" he asked.
~~~PART THREE~~~
Author: jinxed_wood
Rating: PG13
Spoilers Blake's 7, season 2/ Torchwood, season 2
Characters/Pairings:Jack, Avon, ensemble.
Disclaimer: Both belong to the Beeb, all hail the almighty Beeb…
Summary: Sometimes a cube really isn't just a cube!
Previous parts: ONE
~~~Line of Confluence: Part Two ~~~
The Liberator: Third Century of the Second Calendar
No matter how much he tried, Jack couldn’t shake the feeling he was in one of those holo-projected field trips his tutors had been so fond of, during his first year of the Academy. He could see it now, old Winters droning on about temporal ethics, as pseudo historical characters pranced around in the staged holographic story.
“Imagine you find yourself in the precarious situation of influencing one of the major nexuses of human history. What would you do?”
Not that it could happen, of course. The Vortex Manipulators, given to all Time Agents upon graduating, were all devised with certain inbuilt precautions; like not being able to access certain pivotal years or people in history.
People like Roj Blake, for instance.
If Jack were honest with himself, he was feeling a bit star struck.
“So, what do we do?” he asked aloud. “Obviously I can’t just stay here. The cube device must have opened up some rift and facilitated a swap of consciousnesses… oh, stop looking at me like that, I know it sounds crazy. Just work with me. I’ve dealt with this sort of thing before.”
“Oh, you have, have you?” Blake said shortly. “And how would a human, from the twenty first century of the old calender, know about such things? From the little I know about your time period, humanity had barely made it to the moon.”
“Then I’m guessing your history books are missing a few chapters,” Jack lied. He was from the twenty first century, that was his story and he was sticking to it. If he revealed he was really from their future, everything could go to hell in a hand basket.
Vila snorted a laugh. “I’ll say this for him, he’s got a good sense of timing.”
“This is not funny, Vila,” said Jenna, the pilot.
“Oh, come on, Jenna, even you have to admit that this is rather amusing,” Vila said. “I mean, look at him. It’s Avon, right up the moment he opens his mouth, and then this smooth talker suddenly appears….personally, I think it’s an improvement.”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “You would.”
Jack decided to change the subject. “Listen, I hate to be a pain, but I’d like to know who went back in time to my body-” His stopped suddenly, as the name suddenly clicked.
Avon.
As in Kerr Avon.
The man who broke academic consensus when it came to deciding which side of Federation history he really was on; the good guy or the bad guy, nobody really knew. Jack remembered that the only thing the lecturers back in the Academy could really agree on, was the fact that he was a real piece of work.
One of the most devious minds in human history was now wandering around in his body in the twentt first century. Sparks would fly, governments could very well topple. Damn it, he really hoped Ianto didn’t piss him off…oh, who was kidding, he needed to get back home fast!
Jack tried to not let the panic show on his face.
Cally eyed him coolly. ”He’s holding something back,” she informed Blake.
“Is he now?” Blake said, “Why am I not surprised?” He turned and called out to the computer screen, “Zen, how many hours until we reach our destination?”
"Seventeen hours, and twenty three minutes,” the computer said, and Blake nodded. “Inform me when we’re about to make orbit.” He turned to Jenna and Cally. “My contact said that Doctor Retsam was one of the main researchers when they did the initial tests on the cube. If anyone has any answers it’s him.”
“I still think this is a stupid idea,” Vila said. “Without Avon, we might as well stroll in there and wave a red flag in their face.”
Blake gave him a studied look. “Are you saying you can’t break into the facility?” he asked.
Vila pulled a face. “I’m saying that I can’t do as neatly as Avon would.”
“Well, Avon isn’t at home, is he?” Blake said, as he stared at Jack.
Jack sighed, something told him that a bright smile wasn’t going to get him anywhere. It could be worse, he told himself. He could be still strapped to the bed in their med bay. He looked up, and caught Blake glowering at him. Huh, maybe that wasn’t that much of an improvement, after all.
~~~**~~*~~**~~~~
Cardiff : 2009
Their…base... was a rough concoction of near stone aged technology, and items of obvious alien origin. Avon looked around disdainfully. “And you seriously think that you can help me?” he asked, turning on them.
The girl called Gwen shifted aggressively on her feet. “Let’s put this way,” she said. “There isn’t anybody else queuing up to help you.”
He pulled a face. “A fair point, I suppose.” He eyed the cavernous room, and the empty levels above. “Where are the rest of your compatriots?”
She looked away. “We’re it,” she said quietly.
Avon decided not to push, he recognised that look on her face. “Well, the first thing we’ll need to do is a full phasic analysis of the artefact,” he said briskly.
“A what?” Gwen asked, before turning to Ianto.
“Never heard of it,” Ianto said flatly. “And if I haven’t heard of it, we don’t have it in our arsenal.”
Avon looked around and, for the first time since he’d awoken, gave them a genuine smile. “I don’t think that will be a problem,” he said. “I presume this mausoleum had some lab space?”
“Right, you’re from the future,” Ianto said, “I must remember that…actually, there might be a few artefacts we’ve found over the last few years, that you can help me with.”
Avon raised an eyebrow. “What happened to that lecture you gave me in the vehicle, the one about preserving the space time continuum for the good of humanity.” Avon smiled once more, this time with all the warmth of an artic expanse. “Let me guess, you can always think of an exception.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Fine, forget I said anything,” he said.
“Oh, don’t worry, I will,” Avon said. “Now, if you could just show me-” he stopped, dead in his tracks, as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a glass partition. "Good grief, l look like one of those characters from those entertainments they concoct for the grade threes...”
"Hey, that's my friend's body you're walking about in," Gwen protested. "And I can't believe I just said that."
That makes two of us," Avon said crisply. "The artefact, let me see it. The sooner we're all back in our respective places, the better."
“Well, you can always try clicking your heels three times,” Ianto suggested dryly. “It’s the tried and approved method.”
Avon gave him a withering look. “I’m sure, given the correct cultural background, I would find that comment both witty and erudite but, as you can plainly see, I fail to garner any amusement from it.”
“Oh, you‘re going to be a right barrel of laughs, aren’t you?” Gwen sighed.
Is that a question or an observation,” Avon asked absently, as he looked down at his clothing. What in the name of the Federation’s charter was he wearing?
“Oh, I’m leaning towards the latter,” Gwen said.
Avon looked up at her. “Bright girl, now let’s get to work.”
“Right this way,” she said crisply, “Tosh’s old lab-” She paused, and Avon mentally filed the name away. There was a history here, a recent one; and it may be useful to know about it if he was stuck here longer than he intended. “There’s a tech lab this way,” she eventually said, and he nodded silently before following her up the iron steps.
~~~**~~*~~**~~~~
“”Listen, guys, I want be back in my original body as much as you do,” Jack said, from his designated spot on the Liberator’s couch. “Trust me, this new form is a real downgrade for me.”
“What, your original body have super powers, or something,” Vila said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“I don’t think he’s talking about the body’s abilities, so much as its aesthetic attributes,” Cally said, her lips twitching. Once she’d decided that Jack was not a threat, she displayed quite a sly sense of humour. Jack supposed that that was a distinct advantage for surviving this crew, especially if you were a telepath.
Vila’s eyebrow’s shot up. “Oh, well, so sorry you don’t find your body pretty enough for your exacting standards.”
Jenna began to snigger at her console. “I don’t believe this is happening, she said, “I mean, look at the way he’s sitting on the couch. He’s acting like one of those entertainment companions on Space City.”
“Huh, he wishes,” Vila said, his eyes growing distant. “Pity we burned that bridge, I could do with a little rest and relaxation myself.”
Cally gave him a cool look. “Yes, nothing like a holiday snuggling up to the Terra Nostra to make one's worries drift away.”
Vila pouted “You make it sound so sleazy.”
"Not a difficult chore," Cally said. "Considering how they make their income."
Jack went through in his mind what he knew about this time period. The Terra Nostra were an organised crime cabal, even more psychotic that the Mafiosi families of the Twentieth Century. From the way Cally and Vila were talking about them, there was a story there, and not one covered by history lessons at the Academy.
Typical, the Academy always whitewashed the truth when they could get away with it.
“Maybe I can help,” he said.
“Help with what?” Jenna asked.
Jack smiled, but quickly pulled a straight face as Jenna stiffened. He guessed Avon didn't smile a lot. “Well, I’m handy around the house…or the great big alien ship, whatever comes first.”
Cally looked at him distrustfully. “Oh yes?” she asked. “And how is that? Something you’re not telling us?”
Jack gave her a level look. “You already know the answer to that,” he said. “Just like you know that I’m telling you the truth when I say I’m not the bad guy here.”
“I don’t know anything,” she said. “It would make life a lot easier if I did.”
“But you can make a good guess,” Jack countered.
“I thought you couldn’t read the mind of someone who wasn’t telepathic, Cally,” Vila said suspiciously.
“I can’t,” she mused, looking at him, and Jack felt a moment of misgiving. Obviously, she didn’t have much experience meeting others with empathic ability. Not that he was anywhere near a full blown telepath, but he had enough ability for her to pick up on.
“Listen,” he said. “There’s always going to be more to this story than I’m saying, but you can see my dilemma. We’re talking time travel here and, we both have to be careful. You’ve heard of the grandfather paradox?”
“A theory first proposed by the ancient Earth author, René Barjavel,” Blake said, as he stepped out of the side corridor and joined them on the deck. “A man travels back in time and kills his grandfather, therefore negating his own conception, this would mean that he could not have traveled back in time, and the grandfather would have lived after all; a logical paradox.” He folded his arms. “Of course, that would be only an issue if you were from our future and not our past.”
Jack grinned widely. “Trust, me, Blake, I was exactly when and where I said I was when this happened.”
“And that is an ambiguous answer if ever I heard one,” Jenna said.
“I’m inclined to agree with Jenna,” Vila said. “He’s definitely keeping something from us.”
“But in the end, it doesn’t matter,” Cally said. “He’s in Avon’s body, remember? We can’t exactly get rid of him.”
“Hmm,” Blake said, noncommittally
~~~**~~*~~**~~~~
Avon was half way through reconfiguring an emitter array when the facility’s alarm went off. He cursed under his breath, as the clumsy metallic screwdriver slipped in his hand. Who ever heard of making a phasic scanner manually? He must be crazy.
He tapped his ear mic. “Would somebody please tell me what the hell is going on down there?” he asked.
“No need to worry,” Gwen’s voice answered sharply. “We’ve got it under control.”
Avon frowned at the edge in her voice. “Is it my imagination, or do you sound less than confident about that?”
“Listen, Avon, or whatever your name is, just sit tight and finish making your scanner thing, alright? We’ll take care of this.” The sound of an energy pulse weapon sounded in the background, and Avon scowled with irritation.
“I find myself underwhelmed with a sense of reassurance,” he said. “How many are they?”
He could hear Gwen breathing over the link, she didn't sound calm. “Seven,” she said eventually.
“Human?” he asked, as he eyed the emitter array on the table and began to readjust the controls. It seemed a reasonable question, considering their stockpile of alien technology.
“Humanoid,” she said, and Avon wasn’t sure, but he though the heard the crackle of an electrical fire. He let out a sigh. This was becoming more tedious than the Liberator.
“I have a plan,” he said reluctantly.
“You do?” Ianto’s voice suddenly appeared on the line, and Avon rolled his eyes. It was a wonder these two were still alive.
“Hold them off as long as you can,” he said. “I’ll be with you in a moment. Be ready to cover your eyes when I give the word.”
"You'll need to be fast," Gwen warned.
"I'm working as fast as I can," he bit out, as he rapidly changed the energy parameters of the device. It was always easier to fashion a weapon, rather than a tool. "Just keep them from my door, and I'll do the rest."
He finished the last touches to the grenade and picked it up. It was ungainly, but it would work. He cautiously approached the lab door and looked out over the ramp outside. The energy fire was still on the lowest floor. Gwen and Ianto were keeping them pinned down from the first balcony level. He tapped his mic. “Cover your eyes,” he said, before he dropped the grenade and threw himself back into the lab.
A bright flash glowed though his closed eyelids, and then darkness. Slowly, he got to his feet, and tapped his mic again. “They should be down,” he said.
“That’s one way of putting it,” Gwen said. “What the hell did you do to them?”
“I induced a seizure in their nervous system,” Avon said crisply, as he descended the steps. “As you can see, it’s quite effective. I’d advise you to terminate them before they recovered, but I doubt that such a reasoned course of action, would appeal to you.”
“You doubt correctly,” Gwen said sharply, as he joined her on the balcony level and looked around. The damage seemed surprisingly minimal. “How long before they come to?” she asked.
“Twenty min-” He paused, as he looked down at the alien creature at her feet; it had only vestigial ears and cranial ridges. This was his first true interaction with an alien species. Not an auspicious start. “Twenty minutes, local time” he said. “For humans, at least, I’m not so sure about this fellow here.”
Ianto joined them from the lower level. “Let’s get them into the cells, I’ve stripped them all of their portable transmat devices.”
“Transmat?” Avon echoed speculatively. “That is very sophisticated technology… and rare.”
Ianto ignored him. “One of them said something, before he lost consciousness,” he said to Gwen.
“Spit it out" she said, as she cleared the chamber of her gun.
Ianto took a deep breath. “He said the Master wanted his property back."
The silence drew on, and Avon folded his arms. “Would somebody please tell me what is going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?" he asked.
~~~PART THREE~~~