Authors Notes: This is my first Doctor Who fanfic. I usually stay within the realm of Gunslinger Girl (in fact, I may do a crossover at some point – if there's anything suited to crossovers then it's Doctor Who). I was inspired to do this after watching the resistance of the Torchwood soldiers during Doomsday. This is very poor quality, I admit, however I'm just experimenting – the next WILL be better.
You can trust me on this.
The Story of a Soldier.
My name is Sergeant Benjamin Wright. I am a squad commander with the Torchwood Institute's Military Division. I was stationed inside Torchwood Tower and witnessed many things I would not have believed possible. Particle Guns, space craft, alien warriors... We had specimens and examples of everything. But this is the story of the day London, probably the Earth, got invaded. This is the story of how my home was destroyed and of how metal men took control of my world. This is the story of Torchwood. This is the story of a soldier.
We drove through the streets in a blackened 4X4 – our destination: a small military platoon monitoring ghost activity around the outskirts of London. I sat in the back and looked over my squad. Good people, every last one of them. Honest, kind and dutiful to Queen and country. There were five of us in the team – a team founded several years ago with a couple of extra members. We'd lost them during a landing of Ice Warriors in Highland Scotland – funnily enough, very close to Torchwood House. We'd defeated the Ice Warriors – scavenged alien technology from crashed ships had proved useful before, and would again. Now what remained was the hardcore: Benson, Briggs and Hague were extremely competent marksmen with their assault rifles. Whye was our technical expert – skilled in all manner of bombs, explosives and she was VERY good at figuring out how to use alien tech.
We stopped at our destination, a small hut hidden away in some woodland overlooking the outskirts of the city. The platoon leader came out to greet us.
"Afternoon, soldiers. I'm Lieutenant Henderson."
We snapped to a salute.
"Sergeant Wright – Torchwood. You have ghost troubles, sir?"
"Yes, sergeant. There's been increasing numbers of ghosts in the forest lately; it's been giving the lads troubles when it comes to security."
"Alright, my squad and I will monitor the area during the next Ghost Shift, sir."
Five minutes to wait.
We set up a small system in the trees – a monitor and a couple of sensors to detect possible anomalies. Then we sat in silence amongst the equipment, watching the decaying leaves and twigs on the surface rustle in the wind. High in the sky an airliner could be seen, descending on its path to Heathrow.
"Whye, what are we here for anyway? There's nothing we can do about ghosts..."
"We are here, Hague, to see if ghost levels are abnormal. Then the good folks in intelligence figure out what to do about it. We watch, and record."
"Alright, you two," I cut in, "we've got thirty seconds until Ghost Shift. Get that monitor on."
"Sir." They both responded as one.
I counted down.
"Three, two, one... we're into Ghost Shift."
Nothing happened.
"What the..." I couldn't help myself.
"Sir?" Benson was looking up from his monitor system.
"Alright. Briggs, get in touch with HQ – why isn't there a Ghost Shift?"
"Yessir. Right on it, sir."
I looked at my watch again, definitely Ghost Shift time. If something had happened to stop the Ghost Shift...what could it have been? Mechanical faults? System errors? Something worse? I couldn't help but imagine the worst – terrorism.
"Sir? No response from HQ."
"Try again. Different channel."
I stood up and jogged towards the platoon hut, Henderson was already hurrying to meet me.
"Sergeant, where are they?"
"We don't know sir; our equipment is having difficulty reaching Torchwood. May we use yours?"
"Of course, come on in."
I spent several minutes trying different channels. But there was nothing, nothing but static. The platoon of young, fresh out of training recruits looked at me with nervous eyes. They had been expecting some form of help – but they were getting more and more problems...
"SIR! GHOSTS!"
I ran outside, and saw them. There must have been fifty ghosts congregating around the platoon hut. The entire platoon came out with me.
"Alright," I ordered, "get those machines running again!"
"Nothing sir! They aren't picking anything up – it's as if every signal is being jammed." Benson was fiddling with the sensing tools, as five ghosts surrounded him – then moved away.
"It might be a side affect of the ghosts... this could be important."
"SIR!" I turned and looked at Whye, who was stood, pointing towards a single spot where the ghosts were converging upon. Like a military formation. My senses pricked up and I ordered weapons at the ready. I raised my rifle, along with the others in the platoon. We Torchwood members stood out – our black and white urban camouflage contrasting with the pale green fatigues of the infantrymen. The ghosts formed an ordered rank.
Then all hell broke loose.
From across the city we heard screams and shouts. We heard the distant rattle of gunfire. I gave the order to open fire, just as the ghosts began to...change. Their ghostly, ethereal forms dissipated and were replaced by giants. Seven foot tall, identical steel men. Fifty of them. On the sides of their heads was a pair of handle bars... But what struck me most were their faces. They looked like skulls... Our bullets sparked as they struck the robots' 'skin'.
"Heavy weapons!" I ordered, and two men rushed to equip their anti tank rocket launchers.
One of the metal things stepped forwards. It spoke in a low monotone voice, clearly synthesised.
"We are Cybermen. Join us. You will be upgraded. You will become like us."
"Not a fucking chance, mate. OPEN FIRE!"
The two rockets blew two 'Cybermen' apart in a spray of metal. Their apparent spokesperson raised his right arm, as did the others, whilst my gunners reloaded.
"You are incompatible. You will be DELETED!"
A small, silver tube appeared on its wrist. It spat red bolts of energy, and both the heavy weapons men died screaming. The lieutenant ordered a retreat, but half the platoon was engulfed by flying red bolts of death, and fell screaming to the floor. I ran into cover behind the Torchwood 4X4 and motioned for my squad to get in. They ran across the killing field, but Benson tripped over a body on the floor, and one of the Cybermen placed a hand on his shoulder. It was like he had been struck by lightning – searing arcs of electricity ripped through his body and he fell, dead, on the leaves. I scrambled into the drivers eat of the 4X4 when the others had got in – we could mourn for Benson later, we had work to do now. As I set off, I saw the Lieutenant and the last few in the platoon being cut down by the Cybermen's guns. I held back my tears as Briggs leaned out of his window and emptied his magazine at the Cybermen behind. Bolts of energy smashed into trees and the road around us, causing them to burn fiercely.
There were more explosions all around as we entered the city. We passed a small bridge being held by some soldiers against the advancing Cybermen. As we crossed the bridge, an explosion rocked the jeep and we were cast on our side – burning. I scrambled to find a way out, cutting my seat belt off and up over the edge of the car. Hague and Whye clambered out of the vehicle, panting and trying to pat down the flames that threatened to clamber over their clothing. I dropped to a knee at the sound of steel clad boots marching in unison nearby and saw a half dozen or so Cybermen advancing down the road, their arms outstretched. The bridge behind them lay burning. Their wrists blazed and more bolts thudded into the tarmac around me, it began to bubble and melt from the heat. I opened up with my assault rifle, Hague added his fire to mine, but nothing but sparks rewarded our efforts.
"Sir! It's Briggs!"
I turned and saw Whye trying to open the car, to free Briggs. I swore to myself and ran across to help, but before I had crossed more than half way, the Cybermen's guns hit Whye, her body convulsing and writhing as it hit the floor. The car roared as it exploded – taking Briggs with it.
"Hague, with me!" I roared as I gunned down the door to a house, as I got to the doorway, I turned to offer Hague covering fire – but he stumbled and was mown down by the Cybermen. I swore to myself and loaded a new clip into my rifle. Backing into the house, I headed into the basement to hide. No chance in fighting THEM.
I hid there for twenty minutes, waiting for the heavy, marching footsteps above ground to cease. I peered out of a dusty, cobweb covered window letting some light into the room – there were legions of Cybermen out there. I turned back and went once more to the shadows, where I looked at what weapons I had. A pistol, my rifle (running seriously low on ammo) and a couple of grenades. I figured that if I was going to fight, the grenades would be my best bet.
I heard footsteps above – heavy, clanging, Cyberman footsteps. But there was only one... I could take him. I kicked over a stack of boxes, sending clouds of dust into the air. The basement door opened, and I saw IT descend. The Cyberman reached the bottom of the stone steps to the basement and looked around, missing me behind it, in the shadows. If I could take it alive... I reached around me for something, and laid my hand upon a heavy, iron mallet. Grinning to myself, lost in my own insanity, I charged and delivered an almighty blow to its forearm, smashing its weapon. I span the opposite direction and smashed it around its face, it fell backwards. Reaching for my rifle and a grenade, I aimed at its battered, dented face.
"Give up."
"You request my surrender?"
"Naturally." I had won.
"REQUEST DENIED!" Maybe not.
It lunged for me, but I was fast, I stepped backwards and blazed into one of its eye sockets with my rifle. It fell to the floor, nothing more than a dead, cold lump of steel.
More upstairs. I Saw one kick down the doorway to the basement. Both of my grenades exploded around it, causing the metal monster to topple forwards to its death. The second passed through the doorway and fired, but I rolled and aimed with my rifle. Two shots. Two eyeholes. It died. But so did my rifle. Empty - I had nothing left now except for my pistol. The third (and last) Cyberman clambered over the bodies of its comrades. I stuck to the shadows in the corner of the room, but it saw me and fired. I dived, blazing away with my pistol – but it lived. Turning, I grasped a hold of the mallet and sheltered behind the body of the first Cyberman I had killed. Using its metal frame as a shield, I waited for the last Cyberman to stomp down the stairs. It came too close, and I lunged and battered its gun with the mallet. I dropped it, and drew my combat knife. Slicing it across the un armoured back of its knees it fell forward. I stood in front of it and tossed away my knife – aiming my pistol into its eye. I was emotionless as I heard, over its personal communications system a strange order
"ALL CYBERMEN TO TORCHWOOD."
I pulled the trigger and it fell backwards, as dead as the rest.
And here I am. In a dusty, shot up basement with the bodies of four Cybermen around me. The story of Torchwood – just one part of it, really. There's so much else – other people, other places. But then I hear something. A low humming noise upstairs. I raise my pistol and climb up to investigate. In the shadows of one corner of the house I see a strange shape. I see it has a glowing, eerie blue light on it... and then, it screams the last word I will ever hear. Followed straight after by a terrible pain and a blue-green glow.
"EX-TER-MIN-ATE!"