Lost and Found - Chapter Three
10 June 5119 (Earth Standard Date)
Gliese 581g (Hubworld)
Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones strode side by side through the large foyer of Torchwood Tower, getting stares as they made their way toward the lifts at the back of the lobby. The majority of the workers wouldn’t know who they were; however, there were a couple of double-takes and then nods of acknowledgement as they passed.
Ianto ignored them as he and his mate walked past the reception desk; the woman there was one of the very few that recognised them, and her quiet welcome of, “Director Harkness; Second Jones,” floated toward them as they headed by. Jack nodded toward her, giving her one of his famous grins, and Ianto barely caught the blush that decorated her pale green features.
Jack could still turn the heads of just about anyone; there was no denying it. Not that Ianto wanted to, because it was just as much a part of Jack Harkness as breathing. He could appreciate that about his mate, especially because he knew that particular expression was a side of the public Director Harkness; something quite different was reserved for Ianto and their family, and was all Jack.
They got into the special lift that went all the way up to the Director level of the tower, Jack using his still active passcodes to activate it and send them all the way up to the top. As the lift ascended, it gave him time to consider what had brought them to the tower in the first place.
It had been a call from the current Director of the Institute, Phillip Coulson, requesting their presence as soon as they could get there. He wouldn’t say anything else over an open line, despite Ianto’s own security measures on the communications channels going and leaving Ddraig Llyn. It would have been slightly insulting if it hadn’t sounded so urgent.
Luckily, they still had their personal transmat. It had gotten them to Hubworld almost instantaneously, and both he and Jack hadn’t hesitated in making their way to the tower to discover what had seemingly shaken the usually unperturbable Phillip Coulson.
Because Phillip had been shaken. There had been no hiding it. And so they’d gotten there as quickly as they could.
The lift door opened onto the Director’s floor, a vast space that held not only the Torchwood Director’s office but the offices of all the heads of the Institute itself. Ianto had once had an office on this level, even though he’d spent most of his time down the Archives, also known as the Dragon’s Hoard, deep within the bedrock of the planet itself. Also on this level were spaces for the other Heads of the Institute, such as Security, Investigations, Information, Communication, and such.
The Director’s office itself was at the end of the corridor made up of a line of cubicles, each with a busily working employee of various races. Outside the office was the receptionist’s desk, which was currently empty. The door to the inner office was open, so Ianto and Jack invited themselves inside.
The Director’s office had changed much over the nearly two thousand years since Jack had inhabited it. It still had the large picture window that had such a wonderful view of Gliese City and the mountains beyond and was letting in the red light of the planet’s primary, but the furnishings had been replaced at least a hundred times. There was still a desk in front of that massive window, but gone were the faintly medieval touches that Arthur had brought into the space, replaced by antiques dating back to the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, including hermetically sealed artwork and knick-knacks that were sprinkled along the various shelves and tables. Ianto had once teased Phillip when he’d first moved in about how his former Shieldsman Second, Steven Rogers VII, had felt knowing that his boss had been such a fan of his ancestor.
Also, taking up an area along the one wall that wasn’t shelves, was a holographic table, its surface already activated but nothing up and running yet. Phillip was leaning against it, his arms crossed over his chest and slightly wrinkling his black tunic, a barely there smile on his face belying the serious expression in his eyes.
“Jack,” he greeted, “Ianto. Thank you for coming so quickly.”
“You made it sound urgent,” Jack answered, crossing his own arms over his chest as well.
“It is,” Phillip replied. He uncrossed his arms, resting his hands on the edge of the table. “We received some information from a source on Indira, in the Prasix Cluster.”
“I’ve heard of it,” Ianto said. “There are three inhabited worlds there, correct?”
“There are,” Phillip confirmed. “Indira, Halistra, and Andrala. Indira and Halistra are perfectly peaceful, but the Andralan are about as paranoid as they come. They’re constantly trying to pick fights with their sister worlds, which Indira and Halistra pretty much ignore. But…” He turned to the holotable, waving his hand over its surface. Information flashed across the display that expanded above the surface. “According to our source on Indira, things on Andrala are getting worse, and it all comes down to this.”
On the holographic display, alien writing appeared. It wavered for a moment, resolving into Galactic Standard. “Basically, it’s a report of the Andralan Security Forces holding a spy that they are accusing the Indirians of sending. It’s not true of course; the Indirians could really care less and are perfectly able to protect themselves from any Andralan threats. And, while they won’t confirm or deny that they have their agents on Andrala, I doubt they’d be unable to speak the local language, like this man is.”
Jack frowned. “What sort of sense does it make to send a spy who doesn’t speak Andralan?”
“Exactly.”
Ianto shook his head. “So who is this person they’re holding? I’m assuming that’s why we’re here.” He was confused. Why would some poor soul being held a prisoner on Andrala be something that he and Jack would be called in for? If it was someone Torchwood, Phillip would have sent someone in already. And if it wasn’t, there were political ways to secure a captive’s release.
Phillip made another motion over the table, and a window opened on a video that someone must have taken. It was of a cell, made up of white tiles. In a chair in the middle of the frame was a man, his head down so Ianto couldn’t make out his features. He was wearing what looked like anachronous clothing, and he had dark hair and was just a bit stocky.
The video ran backward until it got to the beginning.
Ianto then got his first good look at the captive in the white room, and it only took him moments to identify him. He felt the blood drain from his face.
“You know him?” Jack asked quietly.
“You do, as well,” the dragon answered. “But you might not recall. It’s been nearly three thousand years since you last saw him.”
Humans weren’t meant to be immortal, not like dragons. The human memory could only hold so much, and Jack had forgotten much of their time with the original Torchwood. It wasn’t his fault; he had to let time pass and that meant some of his memories would pass as well. That was one of the many reasons Ianto was so precious to his mate; he could recall much of his life, and Jack would often ask him questions about things he’d forgotten.
That wasn’t to say that Jack didn’t remember everything; there was much of his life that he could recall. But much of it had gotten pushed aside, and it was often up to Ianto to prod him about stuff.
Phillip was nodding. “I didn’t know him either, but then I didn’t really remember Clint all that clearly, and he turned out to be my mate.”
Jack concentrated on the video, as the Andralan strapped the man down into a metal chair, listening as the prisoner kept fighting it, calling the being every name in the book. Another Andralan wheeled in a table, on which was a mind probe.
“He’s speaking old Earth English with a Welsh accent,” Phillip went on. “That was my clue that we were dealing with a spacio-temporal event. I ran his image through the Torchwood database and Archives and came up with this.”
Another hand movement brought up a file.
Ianto knew that was when Jack understood what he was seeing. “Rhys Williams?” he gasped.
“Yes,” Phillip confirmed. “He was taken by the old Cardiff Rift back in 2016. You never did find out where he’d gone, and he was never brought back.”
“How did I forget Rhys?” Jack whispered.
Ianto put a comforting hand on his mate’s arm. “It’s not your fault, Jack. It’s been a very long time.”
“Yes, but I always try to remember my old teams,” Jack grimaced. “I even have pictures of them all! How could I have forgotten Rhys, of all people?”
Ianto could tell just how badly Jack was feeling about it. Yes, he was right…they did have old photos and videos of all their old teams, but it wasn’t like they looked at them all the time.
However, Jack always felt badly about forgetting things. There wasn’t anything Ianto could do about it but be there when his mate recalled something from those long ago times and to try to make the guilt a little easier to bear.
“The Andralan are convinced that Rhys is a spy,” Phillip said. “Even though they put him through the mind probe and got nothing. They weren’t even trying to translate what he was telling them.” He made a gesture and the video stopped.
Ianto was grateful for that. He, of course, remembered Rhys quite well. He’d been a member of his family back then, and they’d all mourned him when they’d come to the conclusion that the Rift had taken him. While that day wasn’t as sharp as it had been, Ianto could still see the team finding the bags of sandwiches that Rhys had dropped when he’d been sucked into the Rift. Toshiko had tried her hardest to find out where he’d been taken, but she’d been unable to track the Rift. They’d eventually had to give up and mourn their friend.
“What are we doing to get him out?” Jack demanded. Now that the memories were returning to him, he was ready to do whatever it took to get Rhys back.
“I’ve requested an agent go in and see if he could be rescued,” Phillip replied. “I know going through diplomatic channels isn’t going to work with the Andralan simply because they won’t believe a thing we say. We’re going to have to go in and fetch him.”
“You’re right,” Ianto conceded. “The Andralan won’t believe Rhys is there by a twist of a space/time Rift. They’re just too bloody paranoid.”
“Who are you sending in?” Jack asked.
Humour flickered in Phillip’s pale eyes, highlighting the blue of the magic that danced there. “Sabrina is in the area, as is Cadi. I’ve contacted them both and Cadi is more than willing to smuggle Sabrina in, and both her and Rhys out again.”
Ianto shook his head. Cadi would have been what most people considered the black sheep of the Harkness-Jones family; she barely skirted the law in her chosen profession, plus she was the on-again, off-again lover of John Hart. At least she hadn’t declared the ex-Time Agent as her mate. Ianto could be grateful for that, because the last thing he wanted to do was kill the man and make his daughter unhappy.
However, Cadi was also fiercely loyal to her family, and would do anything to help if asked. They could trust her to do what needed to be done, even if it broke the laws of several planets.
Ianto had, in fact, lost track of how many worlds Cadi was wanted on.
As for Sabrina…
Jack was nodding. “Brina makes sense. She’s the best operative we have. If anyone could get Rhys out, it would be her.”
Sabrina was their ninth born, and an excellent Torchwood agent. Jack had carried her, which meant that she’d only gained her dragon form after she’d found her mate, but the pair hardly ever saw each other. Belen Swann was also an agent, undercover for months at a time, and Ianto had wondered how they were able to balance their relationship against their duty. In a way it reminded Ianto of him and Jack, back in the days when Torchwood was more important than anything, however Belen wasn’t immortal like Jack had been. Yes, a dragon’s mate gained a longer than average lifespan, but that wasn’t going to guarantee Sabrina and her mate time to gain their own family.
It was a dilemma that no one had come up with an answer for yet, and there were only so many immortals out there in the universe. As far as Ianto was aware, Jack, Phillip, Merlin, and Rowena’s mate, Henry, were the only ones. Anwyn’s mate, Gwaine, would reincarnate and always came back to her, but that had yet to happen for any of their other children.
“Will Cadi be bringing Rhys here?” Jack asked.
Phillip shook his head. “No, she’ll take Sabrina and Rhys as far was Madrina, where Rhys will get a ride back here with Morgan, and Sabrina will move on to her next assignment. Morgan’s currently on tour there, and Nathan is with her.”
Ianto couldn’t help but snort. This was swiftly becoming a family rescue; Morgan, Sabrina’s older sister, was known throughout the Human Empire as a singing star, one that her parents were very proud of, even if Ianto wasn’t quite into the style of music Morgan sang. Having her bring Rhys back to Hubworld made sense; after all, who would believe that a celebrity would be harbouring a fugitive from Andralan justice?
And Nathan was one of the twins that their eldest son Clint - born Franklin, however that was before the ‘reincarnated from a former teammate’ thing - working as a techie for Morgan’s band, Starshine. It had been a temporary thing at first, but Nathan was too much like his father had been before he’d settled down with his mate, Phillip, and the young man had inherited that same wanderlust. What better way to serve it than to go on tour with his aunt?
“We’ll need to check Rhys out medically,” Phillip went on. “They put him in a mind probe on top of him getting spat out on an unknown planet by a rift in space and time. I don’t want to think he’s been permanently damaged…”
As his voice faded out, Ianto couldn’t help a shudder. Every once in a while, the Rift still deposited people around the area of Old Cardiff, which was why Torchwood had a base set up there to continue to monitor things. It had been over a thousand years since the water had receded enough to expose what had once been inundated when global warming had swallowed the original Cardiff…which was a good thing, since it meant any innocent that came through would no longer drown.
Although, if Ianto was honest with himself, he did wonder if that might not have been a mercy for some of the Rift victims.
The island of Flat Holm no longer existed, but Torchwood had set up a new residence for the permanently damaged beings who’d been sucked up by any number of Rifts that they’d discovered since Torchwood had expanded into the Human Empire. There were at least a thousand Rifts scattered out there, and it was their duty to monitor each and every one of them. This meant taking care of those who had been touched by that sort of disruptive power.
“From the way he sounded,” Jack said, obviously amused, “I doubt we have to worry too much about that.”
Phillip smirked. “I’m going to ask him to teach me some of the swears he used in Welsh. He certainly can be creative.”
Ianto couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s our Rhys the Rant,” he commented, recalling their former team member’s nickname.
“You didn’t hear it all,” Phillip added, “but he pretty much told them everything, even if they couldn’t understand a thing he said.”
“I believe I taught our teammates that,” Jack said. “It doesn’t do anyone any good to fight a mind probe. It’s gonna get it out of you no matter how hard you fight, and it doesn’t do any good to you if you’re injured in the process.”
“How long will it be before Sabrina and Cadi arrive on scene?” Ianto asked.
Phillip checked his wrist chronometer. “I should think any time now…”
Chapter Four
Gliese 581g (Hubworld)
Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones strode side by side through the large foyer of Torchwood Tower, getting stares as they made their way toward the lifts at the back of the lobby. The majority of the workers wouldn’t know who they were; however, there were a couple of double-takes and then nods of acknowledgement as they passed.
Ianto ignored them as he and his mate walked past the reception desk; the woman there was one of the very few that recognised them, and her quiet welcome of, “Director Harkness; Second Jones,” floated toward them as they headed by. Jack nodded toward her, giving her one of his famous grins, and Ianto barely caught the blush that decorated her pale green features.
Jack could still turn the heads of just about anyone; there was no denying it. Not that Ianto wanted to, because it was just as much a part of Jack Harkness as breathing. He could appreciate that about his mate, especially because he knew that particular expression was a side of the public Director Harkness; something quite different was reserved for Ianto and their family, and was all Jack.
They got into the special lift that went all the way up to the Director level of the tower, Jack using his still active passcodes to activate it and send them all the way up to the top. As the lift ascended, it gave him time to consider what had brought them to the tower in the first place.
It had been a call from the current Director of the Institute, Phillip Coulson, requesting their presence as soon as they could get there. He wouldn’t say anything else over an open line, despite Ianto’s own security measures on the communications channels going and leaving Ddraig Llyn. It would have been slightly insulting if it hadn’t sounded so urgent.
Luckily, they still had their personal transmat. It had gotten them to Hubworld almost instantaneously, and both he and Jack hadn’t hesitated in making their way to the tower to discover what had seemingly shaken the usually unperturbable Phillip Coulson.
Because Phillip had been shaken. There had been no hiding it. And so they’d gotten there as quickly as they could.
The lift door opened onto the Director’s floor, a vast space that held not only the Torchwood Director’s office but the offices of all the heads of the Institute itself. Ianto had once had an office on this level, even though he’d spent most of his time down the Archives, also known as the Dragon’s Hoard, deep within the bedrock of the planet itself. Also on this level were spaces for the other Heads of the Institute, such as Security, Investigations, Information, Communication, and such.
The Director’s office itself was at the end of the corridor made up of a line of cubicles, each with a busily working employee of various races. Outside the office was the receptionist’s desk, which was currently empty. The door to the inner office was open, so Ianto and Jack invited themselves inside.
The Director’s office had changed much over the nearly two thousand years since Jack had inhabited it. It still had the large picture window that had such a wonderful view of Gliese City and the mountains beyond and was letting in the red light of the planet’s primary, but the furnishings had been replaced at least a hundred times. There was still a desk in front of that massive window, but gone were the faintly medieval touches that Arthur had brought into the space, replaced by antiques dating back to the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, including hermetically sealed artwork and knick-knacks that were sprinkled along the various shelves and tables. Ianto had once teased Phillip when he’d first moved in about how his former Shieldsman Second, Steven Rogers VII, had felt knowing that his boss had been such a fan of his ancestor.
Also, taking up an area along the one wall that wasn’t shelves, was a holographic table, its surface already activated but nothing up and running yet. Phillip was leaning against it, his arms crossed over his chest and slightly wrinkling his black tunic, a barely there smile on his face belying the serious expression in his eyes.
“Jack,” he greeted, “Ianto. Thank you for coming so quickly.”
“You made it sound urgent,” Jack answered, crossing his own arms over his chest as well.
“It is,” Phillip replied. He uncrossed his arms, resting his hands on the edge of the table. “We received some information from a source on Indira, in the Prasix Cluster.”
“I’ve heard of it,” Ianto said. “There are three inhabited worlds there, correct?”
“There are,” Phillip confirmed. “Indira, Halistra, and Andrala. Indira and Halistra are perfectly peaceful, but the Andralan are about as paranoid as they come. They’re constantly trying to pick fights with their sister worlds, which Indira and Halistra pretty much ignore. But…” He turned to the holotable, waving his hand over its surface. Information flashed across the display that expanded above the surface. “According to our source on Indira, things on Andrala are getting worse, and it all comes down to this.”
On the holographic display, alien writing appeared. It wavered for a moment, resolving into Galactic Standard. “Basically, it’s a report of the Andralan Security Forces holding a spy that they are accusing the Indirians of sending. It’s not true of course; the Indirians could really care less and are perfectly able to protect themselves from any Andralan threats. And, while they won’t confirm or deny that they have their agents on Andrala, I doubt they’d be unable to speak the local language, like this man is.”
Jack frowned. “What sort of sense does it make to send a spy who doesn’t speak Andralan?”
“Exactly.”
Ianto shook his head. “So who is this person they’re holding? I’m assuming that’s why we’re here.” He was confused. Why would some poor soul being held a prisoner on Andrala be something that he and Jack would be called in for? If it was someone Torchwood, Phillip would have sent someone in already. And if it wasn’t, there were political ways to secure a captive’s release.
Phillip made another motion over the table, and a window opened on a video that someone must have taken. It was of a cell, made up of white tiles. In a chair in the middle of the frame was a man, his head down so Ianto couldn’t make out his features. He was wearing what looked like anachronous clothing, and he had dark hair and was just a bit stocky.
The video ran backward until it got to the beginning.
Ianto then got his first good look at the captive in the white room, and it only took him moments to identify him. He felt the blood drain from his face.
“You know him?” Jack asked quietly.
“You do, as well,” the dragon answered. “But you might not recall. It’s been nearly three thousand years since you last saw him.”
Humans weren’t meant to be immortal, not like dragons. The human memory could only hold so much, and Jack had forgotten much of their time with the original Torchwood. It wasn’t his fault; he had to let time pass and that meant some of his memories would pass as well. That was one of the many reasons Ianto was so precious to his mate; he could recall much of his life, and Jack would often ask him questions about things he’d forgotten.
That wasn’t to say that Jack didn’t remember everything; there was much of his life that he could recall. But much of it had gotten pushed aside, and it was often up to Ianto to prod him about stuff.
Phillip was nodding. “I didn’t know him either, but then I didn’t really remember Clint all that clearly, and he turned out to be my mate.”
Jack concentrated on the video, as the Andralan strapped the man down into a metal chair, listening as the prisoner kept fighting it, calling the being every name in the book. Another Andralan wheeled in a table, on which was a mind probe.
“He’s speaking old Earth English with a Welsh accent,” Phillip went on. “That was my clue that we were dealing with a spacio-temporal event. I ran his image through the Torchwood database and Archives and came up with this.”
Another hand movement brought up a file.
Ianto knew that was when Jack understood what he was seeing. “Rhys Williams?” he gasped.
“Yes,” Phillip confirmed. “He was taken by the old Cardiff Rift back in 2016. You never did find out where he’d gone, and he was never brought back.”
“How did I forget Rhys?” Jack whispered.
Ianto put a comforting hand on his mate’s arm. “It’s not your fault, Jack. It’s been a very long time.”
“Yes, but I always try to remember my old teams,” Jack grimaced. “I even have pictures of them all! How could I have forgotten Rhys, of all people?”
Ianto could tell just how badly Jack was feeling about it. Yes, he was right…they did have old photos and videos of all their old teams, but it wasn’t like they looked at them all the time.
However, Jack always felt badly about forgetting things. There wasn’t anything Ianto could do about it but be there when his mate recalled something from those long ago times and to try to make the guilt a little easier to bear.
“The Andralan are convinced that Rhys is a spy,” Phillip said. “Even though they put him through the mind probe and got nothing. They weren’t even trying to translate what he was telling them.” He made a gesture and the video stopped.
Ianto was grateful for that. He, of course, remembered Rhys quite well. He’d been a member of his family back then, and they’d all mourned him when they’d come to the conclusion that the Rift had taken him. While that day wasn’t as sharp as it had been, Ianto could still see the team finding the bags of sandwiches that Rhys had dropped when he’d been sucked into the Rift. Toshiko had tried her hardest to find out where he’d been taken, but she’d been unable to track the Rift. They’d eventually had to give up and mourn their friend.
“What are we doing to get him out?” Jack demanded. Now that the memories were returning to him, he was ready to do whatever it took to get Rhys back.
“I’ve requested an agent go in and see if he could be rescued,” Phillip replied. “I know going through diplomatic channels isn’t going to work with the Andralan simply because they won’t believe a thing we say. We’re going to have to go in and fetch him.”
“You’re right,” Ianto conceded. “The Andralan won’t believe Rhys is there by a twist of a space/time Rift. They’re just too bloody paranoid.”
“Who are you sending in?” Jack asked.
Humour flickered in Phillip’s pale eyes, highlighting the blue of the magic that danced there. “Sabrina is in the area, as is Cadi. I’ve contacted them both and Cadi is more than willing to smuggle Sabrina in, and both her and Rhys out again.”
Ianto shook his head. Cadi would have been what most people considered the black sheep of the Harkness-Jones family; she barely skirted the law in her chosen profession, plus she was the on-again, off-again lover of John Hart. At least she hadn’t declared the ex-Time Agent as her mate. Ianto could be grateful for that, because the last thing he wanted to do was kill the man and make his daughter unhappy.
However, Cadi was also fiercely loyal to her family, and would do anything to help if asked. They could trust her to do what needed to be done, even if it broke the laws of several planets.
Ianto had, in fact, lost track of how many worlds Cadi was wanted on.
As for Sabrina…
Jack was nodding. “Brina makes sense. She’s the best operative we have. If anyone could get Rhys out, it would be her.”
Sabrina was their ninth born, and an excellent Torchwood agent. Jack had carried her, which meant that she’d only gained her dragon form after she’d found her mate, but the pair hardly ever saw each other. Belen Swann was also an agent, undercover for months at a time, and Ianto had wondered how they were able to balance their relationship against their duty. In a way it reminded Ianto of him and Jack, back in the days when Torchwood was more important than anything, however Belen wasn’t immortal like Jack had been. Yes, a dragon’s mate gained a longer than average lifespan, but that wasn’t going to guarantee Sabrina and her mate time to gain their own family.
It was a dilemma that no one had come up with an answer for yet, and there were only so many immortals out there in the universe. As far as Ianto was aware, Jack, Phillip, Merlin, and Rowena’s mate, Henry, were the only ones. Anwyn’s mate, Gwaine, would reincarnate and always came back to her, but that had yet to happen for any of their other children.
“Will Cadi be bringing Rhys here?” Jack asked.
Phillip shook his head. “No, she’ll take Sabrina and Rhys as far was Madrina, where Rhys will get a ride back here with Morgan, and Sabrina will move on to her next assignment. Morgan’s currently on tour there, and Nathan is with her.”
Ianto couldn’t help but snort. This was swiftly becoming a family rescue; Morgan, Sabrina’s older sister, was known throughout the Human Empire as a singing star, one that her parents were very proud of, even if Ianto wasn’t quite into the style of music Morgan sang. Having her bring Rhys back to Hubworld made sense; after all, who would believe that a celebrity would be harbouring a fugitive from Andralan justice?
And Nathan was one of the twins that their eldest son Clint - born Franklin, however that was before the ‘reincarnated from a former teammate’ thing - working as a techie for Morgan’s band, Starshine. It had been a temporary thing at first, but Nathan was too much like his father had been before he’d settled down with his mate, Phillip, and the young man had inherited that same wanderlust. What better way to serve it than to go on tour with his aunt?
“We’ll need to check Rhys out medically,” Phillip went on. “They put him in a mind probe on top of him getting spat out on an unknown planet by a rift in space and time. I don’t want to think he’s been permanently damaged…”
As his voice faded out, Ianto couldn’t help a shudder. Every once in a while, the Rift still deposited people around the area of Old Cardiff, which was why Torchwood had a base set up there to continue to monitor things. It had been over a thousand years since the water had receded enough to expose what had once been inundated when global warming had swallowed the original Cardiff…which was a good thing, since it meant any innocent that came through would no longer drown.
Although, if Ianto was honest with himself, he did wonder if that might not have been a mercy for some of the Rift victims.
The island of Flat Holm no longer existed, but Torchwood had set up a new residence for the permanently damaged beings who’d been sucked up by any number of Rifts that they’d discovered since Torchwood had expanded into the Human Empire. There were at least a thousand Rifts scattered out there, and it was their duty to monitor each and every one of them. This meant taking care of those who had been touched by that sort of disruptive power.
“From the way he sounded,” Jack said, obviously amused, “I doubt we have to worry too much about that.”
Phillip smirked. “I’m going to ask him to teach me some of the swears he used in Welsh. He certainly can be creative.”
Ianto couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s our Rhys the Rant,” he commented, recalling their former team member’s nickname.
“You didn’t hear it all,” Phillip added, “but he pretty much told them everything, even if they couldn’t understand a thing he said.”
“I believe I taught our teammates that,” Jack said. “It doesn’t do anyone any good to fight a mind probe. It’s gonna get it out of you no matter how hard you fight, and it doesn’t do any good to you if you’re injured in the process.”
“How long will it be before Sabrina and Cadi arrive on scene?” Ianto asked.
Phillip checked his wrist chronometer. “I should think any time now…”
Chapter Four