Title: TORCHWOODGATE

Author: Soledad

Disclaimer: the usual: don't own, don't sue! Everything belongs to RTD and BBC, and whoever happens to own the rights to SGA. I've lost count somewhere along the way.


Episode 04 – Preparations

Warnings: Not Gwen-friendly – nothing I ever write will be, so if this bothers you, you should probably hit the Back button now. Also, beware the big, honking AU label. Everything that's different, is meant to be different.


Jack found Stargate Command awesome, and considering all the things he'd already seen in his unnaturally long life, that was saying a lot. But honestly, who'd have guessed that this was buried beneath Cheyenne Mountain? There were floors and floors of top secret labs and research units – not unlike what had once been in Torchwood Tower, at least according to Ianto. He'd never seen anything but the staff offices at Headquarters, himself.

And then there was the Stargate itself – this huge, magic ring of incredibly advanced technology that spat out subspace like a fountain of water and connected Earth to countless other planets across the galaxy. Or galaxies, if the preliminary information had been correct. Who'd have guessed? Only the TARDIS could be more awesome.

He'd been here a week already, and in good old Jack Harkness fashion, he'd connected with most of the expedition members. Granted, the SGC had made it easy for him. There were training sessions, both informational and physical. They were getting debriefed on a daily basis about previous Stargate missions, about everything concerning the Ancients, whose lost city they were supposed to find in the Pegasus galaxy – hell, they were even given language lessons, so that they would be able to read (and hopefully understand) inscriptions written in Ancient, even if neither of the two linguists was within reach.

They learned to use various sorts of weapons, including a strange alien gizmo called a zat'nikitel that had three settings, like a Star Trek phaser: one to stun, one to kill and one to completely disintegrate. For obvious reasons, only the ones with the best aim were allowed to use a zat, as the things were nicknamed. From the Torchwood gang, that meant Jack, Suzie and Andy Davidson.

Tosh was permanently in happy geek mode. She hit off with Dr. Markova at once, she had a happy reunion with the shy little Japanese woman who turned out to be Dr. Kusanagi, and she made fast friends with a short, scruffy little man with glasses and flyaway Einsteinesque hair who, as Jack would learn later, was Dr. Zelenka. Owen and Martha were gladly welcomed by Dr. Carson Beckett, the man with the sexiest accent and best blue eyes right after Ianto, and were barely seen from that day on.

Suzie and Mickey had been taken under the wings of Technical Sergeant Siler, who seemed to know almost as much about the Stargate and Ancient tech as the geeks; that pretty much took care of them for the rest of their stay. They were accompanied by a mixed bunch of technicians from all around the world and thus were in the best possible company.

Gwen, Andy and the other ex-cops – mostly Germans – chosen to make up civilian security, were given into the care of Master Sergeant Bates, also selected for the expedition, together with his Marine squad. Bates took them to scouting missions on alien worlds to make them familiar with Gate travel, drilled them in armed and unarmed combat, and generally made their lives to Hell. When someone (speak: Gwen) complained, the no-nonsense Master Sergeant told them that this was to save their miserable asses in situations where the cavalry would not come, and made the offender drop and give him twenty push-ups on the spot. Complaints abruptly ceased from that day on – at least when Bates was within earshot.

Jack decided that he liked Master Sergeant Bates.

As for himself and Ianto, they were extremely busy, too. Beyond basic SGC training, they had to help Dr. Shaw – with whom he was on first name basis already – planning the expedition budget, which soon turned into a logistic nightmare. Fortunately, they had Ianto. Without him, they'd have been lost, because honestly, how were they to decide what one hundred and fifty people might need for a one-way trip to a foreign galaxy?

"Food supplies," Liz Shaw counted on her fingers, while Ianto was making notes. "Power sources. Medicines; particularly antibiotics, as we have no idea what we might have to face."

"Heavy machinery," Ianto added. "At least one chopper, with plenty of spare parts. And one of those two-man submarines Doctor Markova had suggested. We're speaking of Atlantis – in might well be underwater."

"Ammunition," Jack said with emphasis. "Lots of it. Some of those zat weapons, as they don't need their power cells to be replaced so soon."

Liz Shaw nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, this all sounds very reasonably," she said, "but I still have the feeling that we aren't thinking broad enough. We're to write a packing list for something between a post-apocalyptic survival camp and a cross-country wagon trip."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "We are?"

She smiled at him in her usual motherly manner. "We aren't just providing an expedition, Mr. Jones. There's a very good chance that we're equipping a future colony. And we have to think about the logistics very carefully. Thirty-eight minutes worth of time to transport everything we might need through the Gate. That's the maximum of what we'll get. Less, if the ZedPM is drained of power too quickly, halfway through the transfer. So, I want you to sit down with every member of any SG-team that has ever been stranded off-world for more than forty-eight hours and ask them one question. What item – or items – would they have needed to have brought with them to keep them alive and well, if Earth had never been able to recover them."

Ianto nodded. "Understood, ma'am. I'll do my best."

And Jack returned to his other tasks, relieved, because he knew that Ianto's best would be enough.


Ianto took his instructions literally and was, as a result, barely seen in the next couple of days. At the end of their second week, he returned to Liz Shaw in the company of Dr. Eric Corrigan, a young Canadian anthropologist and linguist in his early thirties, who, it seemed, had spent several of his formative years as an archaeology help in African deserts, South-American rain forests and other less than welcoming environments. He was also a member of a continent-wide association called the Society of Applied Archaeology; people who studied – and tried out in practice – methods due which humans of early ages survived under their less than ideal circumstances.

As a result, Corrigan counted as the survival expert of the SGC and was often borrowed by other team leaders to help out dealing with natives, understanding their way of life and the likes. He also seemed to have a very clear image about what would be absolutely necessary, what would be needful and what could be useful to keep the expedition alive, no matter where they would end up. If Dr. Shaw wanted someone who could think broad enough, she certainly found it in the young anthropologist.

Corrigan's short list – consisting of iron, aluminium, lead, nickel and steel ingots, tallow for candles and soap, diatomaceous earth (both to purify water and for long-term food and grain storage), vitamins, matches, activated charcoal, chlorine, iodine, salt, needles of all sorts, wool roving and spindles and only God knew what else – would have been enough to fill their tonnage at least twice. So they needed to plan very carefully and methodically. The packing lists Dr. Shaw, Ianto and their quartermaster, a middle-aged female UNIT corporal by the name of Carol Bell set up between them, distributed the supplies into several categories, starting with the most critical supplies.

"The first quarter of our supply train must have all the most critical supplies," Dr. Shaw emphasized.

Ianto nodded in agreement.

"True; but each pallet of this quarter also should hold a cross-section of such good as would be necessary for survival and comfort," he said. "That way, even if we lose the Gate more quickly than expected, we'd have some of everything, instead of all of a small collection of things."

Corporal Bell looked at him with something akin to motherly pride.

"Young man," she said with respect, "that's seriously advanced tactical thinking. I'd have not expected it from a civilian."

Ianto shrugged. "Well, ma'am, just 'cos we don't wear a uniform it doesn't mean we're all fools."

"Carol," she corrected gently. "I'm a hard-working woman, not an officer. Besides, I could be your mother. So don't give me that ma'am crap."

"Yes, Mam," Ianto replied with a grin. Both older women laughed, and with that, the tone of their working relationship was pretty much set and Ianto all but adopted by them.

Parallel to logistic considerations, Gate travel drills were running full time. Jack didn't need more than a week to realize how lucky they had been that Master Sergeant Bates, their off-world expert, insisted on constant practicing well before the actual day of mission departure. Had people not gotten used to wormhole travel in advance, they'd have held up the line on the way, in a situation when seconds could prove crucial.

Fortunately, Bates and Captain Magambo hit off from the first day on, and so all UNIT soldiers had been made to understand that when the Master Sergeant gave an order, they were to obey without question or hesitation… unless Magambo told them otherwise. That made it a great deal easier – not to mention faster – to line up people day after day in he Gate room, taking them and already pre-packed equipment through the Gate to the Alpha site (which, it seemed was one of Earth's off-world evacuation bases) over and over again, until seconds saved turned into minutes saved and they could have done it in their sleep, if necessary.

They could also call themselves lucky that Bates had such good connections to the military personnel within in the SGC, despite him being a Marine and most of the SGC personnel belonging to the Air Force. It was his doing that they got every pair of hands available to help in the line of goods up the ramp and through the Gate. These people offered what little spare time they had to practice the moving of said goods, despite having taken offence of having to give up the expedition to non-Americans. They did it out of respect for Bates – allegedly the only team leader who'd never lost a man off-world, despite the hairy situations they'd got themselves – and Jack understood quickly how invaluable the man would be, if treated properly.

Not being actively part of the military any longer, Jack was the ideal person to deal with a man like Bates. He wasn't one obsessed with rank differences anyway, and it wasn't hard to respect a man as capable and loyal as the Master Sergeant, even though Bates did tend to be a little paranoid – something that was fairly alien for Jack, who used to confront things – and people – directly.

On the other hand, paranoia could be useful at times, in healthy doses. It could save lives, by keeping people alert and observant. Ianto, for his part, declared himself relieved that there would be somebody to hold back Jack when he got reckless and ran into peril headfirst again. Especially as they weren't planning to make the coming back from death part general knowledge just yet.

At first Jack had been a little worried that the Marines wouldn't react well to the fact that he and Ianto were not only together but open and official about it. At first, there had indeed been queer looks, and two of the UNIT soldiers had immediately asked for reassignment. Even some of the geeks seemed a little… uncomfortable around them, although both Dr. Shaw and Dr. Markova treated them no differently than, say, Doctors McNab and Moore, a married couple of Scottish oceanologists.

Contrary to expectations, however, Bates' team took the fact with a shrug. All of them had been either to Iraq or to Afghanistan before getting assigned to the Stargate Programme, and the only thing that concerned them was whether Jack would watch their six in a fight. As soon as they felt sure about that – and had seen Ianto score one perfect round after another on his firearms training – they simply accepted their marital status as they'd have accepted any other personality quirk from a commanding officer. As they'd accept the unpleasant weather they couldn't change.

There was one thing that seemed to make them wonder, though.

"Doesn't it bother you that he flirts with everything on two legs?" Sergeant Jamie Markham, young, baby-faced and pretty, with dreamy dark eyes, asked Ianto one day in the mess hall.

Ianto shrugged and smiled. "That's Jack for you," he replied easily. "That's how he connects with people – he charms them out of their pants… well, not literally in these days, but there used to be times… Anyway, yeah, he is a terrible flirt… but that's how far he would go."

"Are you sure about that?" Markham asked doubtfully. "Cuz he seems awfully chummy with just almost everyone. Were he my…" he blushed, considering a previously alien concept that clearly made him uncomfortable, "… my partner, it would bother me."

"Jack is larger than life," Ianto replied, giving that aspect of their lives some thought, perhaps for the first time. "He can't be cornered like other people could be. Besides, it all comes down to trust, doesn't it? If I cannot trust him, then what's the point? Trying to put him under restrictions wouldn't help. It would only break us up."

"If you say so," Markham still didn't seem convinced but let it be for the time being.

And Ianto realized, with no small amount of surprise, that he could count on the Marines to watch his back, should he ever need it. That was… unexpected, to say the least.


The remaining weeks at the SGC seemed awfully short, considering the workload they still had before them. Jack couldn't even remember having felt so tired since he'd stranded on Earth back in the late 19th century.

They had to make plans for every possible situation they might face upon passing the Gate to the Pegasus galaxy: from arriving in a small, closed room with little to no storage space all the way down to arriving outside on a broad open plain with plenty of storage but absolutely no traction for the pallets' wheels. They practiced for each and every one of those possibilities, using friendly planets that offered similar conditions, while overseeing – and in great part doing – all the packing.

By zero hour, they'd gotten the transfer of people and most important goods down to seventeen minutes and fifty-one seconds at their optimal time, with the remaining time available for their voluntary helpers to throw as many not-necessary-but-useful goods through the open Gate after them as they can, until the Gate ran out of power and disengaged.

Both Captain Magambo and Master Sergeant Bates agreed that their soldiers could haul goods with them before fanning out to secure the area. Michael Naseband, the head of civilian security, agreed to have his people do the same thing.

"The ideal thing would be to find an uninhibited world that we could explore and claim and make our own," the big, bald-headed German ex-detective said with his harsh accent, "but we must be prepared for the possibility of running into people, too; possibly even into hostile ones."

"I'm aware of that," Dr. Shaw replied, "which is why I put Doctor Corrigan in the first wave. Just in case we need to talk our way out of a sticky situation."

Naseband nodded. "A good choice. That boy might be young, but he's very level-headed. Small wonder, after all he's already seen, I guess."

"I hope this Doctor Penny Lindsey is at least half as good," Dr. Shaw sighed. "Even if she's more of a theoretician."

"She'll have to learn the practical skills as she goes," Naseband said soberly. "We all have to. Otherwise…" He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. They both knew what the alternative was.

"All right," Dr. Shaw said with another tired sigh. "Let's get back to the drill. I'll be happy when this phase is over and we can finally begin our real work in the Pegasus galaxy… unless I die from exhaustion before the actual departure."

Naseband gave her an inquisitive look and realized for the first time how tired she truly was.

"Perhaps you should skip the next drill and rest a little instead," he suggested. "I'm sure the others will understand."

But the old lady shook her head determinedly. "No, no, I need the practice. I can't be the one holding up the line."

"You definitely will be holding up the line if you collapse right in front of the open Gate," Jack intervened, walking up to them. "Mr. Naseband is right. You need to rest. And I need your signature on a dozen or so documents. So why don't we go back to your office, have Ianto make us some industrial strength coffee and discuss the problems of taking some additional equipment with us?"

"Additional equipment?" Liz Shaw stared at him, bewildered. "Jack, we're beyond the original limits of our tonnage already."

"I know," Jack replied amiably. 'That's why we need to discuss it. Cos I think we really need to take those things with us."

"What kind of things are we talking about?" Liz Shaw asked suspiciously.

"Torchwood-issue things," Jack answered with an I'm-too-cute-to-be-yelled-at expression on his face that made him look about fourteen. "Small things we… well, liberated before closing down the Hub. Things that can prove very useful."

"I see," Liz said slowly. "You're right, Captain. We do need to talk about this."

That didn't sound very promising, but Jack knew he wouldn't be able to smuggle all those pilfered Torchwood items through the controls. He followed his boss to Liz' temporary office, hoping for the best.


"All right," Dr. Shaw said, closing the door behind them. "I want a complete list of those items you were talking about, and I want it now. Unless you wish yourself and your team arrested and sent to the next best UNIT prison. If you think you can play me, Captain, you are mistaken."

"Here you are, ma'am," Ianto materialized seemingly out of thin air, placing a mug of coffee before each of them and a printed list of said items next to Dr. Shaw's coffee. "It isn't such a long list, really. Barely a dozen items, all very useful… and none that would be missed back home."

"I'll be the judge of that," she replied, snatching the list to check out the individual items on it. "For starters you can tell me what this anti-Droon audio paddle is. For that matter, what is a Droon?"

"Droon are a species of small, black parasitic insects the size of a cockroach, with sharp, barbed limbs," Ianto explained matter-of-factly. "A migratory species, occasionally coming to Earth via the Cardiff Rift. When they arrive, they seek out somewhere warm and moist to hide in, generally people's noses. As many as six can be found in one person. They're generally harmless at this stage, causing a state akin to the common cold. Most of them leave or die in a few months, but about ten per cent of them usually pupate and advance to their next stage."

"Which is not good for the host, I assume," she said.

"Not really," Ianto replied. "At this point they emit alpha-wave patterns, which – if they aren't removed before they finish developing – would cause harm to the host. Fortunately, at this stage they're vulnerable to infrasonic waves, which this device," he pointed at the picture of a black, spoon-like object inserted into the list, "emits, thus damaging them before they could hatch. It's harmless for the host, as it only causes temporary disorientation."

"And you're sure it works?" Dr. Shaw asked doubtfully.

Ianto nodded. "I know that for a fact. There have been seven documented cases of successful removal by Torchwood Three since 2000 – three of them during the last year. I've witnessed Doctor Harper perform the act twice."

"But do you truly expect to find these Droon creatures in the Pegasus galaxy?" Dr. Shaw asked.

"No, we don't," Jack admitted. "At least I hope we won't; they're nasty little buggers. But Owen says the paddle should work with other sorts of parasites, too, and who knows what creatures we are gonna face there? It's not that we'd be able to ask Earth for help… not likely."

"That's true," she admitted. "All right, at the odd chance that it might be helpful… How big is it anyway?"

Jack grinned. "Small enough for Owen to carry it in his standard antitoxin kit. It's a handheld device, approximately of the size of a spoon. Besides, it's only fair. He's the one who wants to take it."

"Then he can have it," she looked at the list again. "Now, this… this Bekaran deep-tissue scanner. Is this something like MR or X-ray?"

For a moment Jack stared at her in surprise; then he remembered that she had a degree in medicine, too. Plus, during her decades working for UNIT and the Preternatural Research Bureau, she'd had enough chance to study alien technology.

"As a matter of fact, it's better," Ianto intervened smoothly. "While only the size of a pocket calculator, it allows the user to see internal organs without surgery, with much greater accuracy and definition than either an X-ray machine or an MRI scanner It is capable of producing a photo-realistic images on its creen that can be viewed at any depth by adjusting the resolution and can be hooked up to whatever wireless network someone uses."

"Sounds handy," Dr. Shaw studied the picture on the list with interest. "What about the power source?"

"It has a rechargeable core battery," Ianto explained, "compatible with the usual power sources of our technology. We've got four of these things; Tosh happened to buy one on e-Bay from a clueless owner. They could serve well as back-up tools, especially as we can only take a limited amount of the standard medical equipment because of their size and weight."

"You don't need to tell me that," she replied dryly. The fact that even the most advanced medical technology tended to be large and heavy and therefore they could only take the barest minimum with them had concerned her from the very beginning. "Can any trained doctor use them?"

"Certainly," Ianto said. "It has no harmful effects whatsoever. One has to be careful with it, though; it's rather sensitive."

"I'll assign that young Indian doctor to keep an eye on them," Dr. Shaw said. "Dr. Patanjali, or whatever his name is. Interns ought to learn the tough aspects of the job, too."

They laughed and she ticked off the item on the list.

"Now, this is one I've heard about already," she then said, looking at the picture of the singularity scalpel. "This is the gadget that allows you to operate without opening the patient, isn't it? The one Doctor Harper saved Doctor Jones' life with, right?"

"Jack nodded. "The very same. "Unfortunately, we haven't figured out yet what kind of power source it uses and how long it will last, but…" he shrugged.

"But as long as it lasts, it will be invaluable," Liz Shaw agreed. "I'll instruct Doctor Beckett to only use it in the direst emergencies. We'll take it. One of the med-techs can carry it; it's fairly small, after all."

Ianto studied the master pack list. "According to this, Rick Wong would be the one with the least medical equipment to carry. He can take the laser torch as well when he's already at it."

"What laser torch?" she asked. Ianto produced the instrument in question from his pocket.

"This one. It can not only open up flesh with a laser with virtually no mess, it can also reattach it with no visible signs afterwards."

"You had a great deal of useful medical tools at Torchwood Three," she commented. Jack shrugged.

"Well, yeah, we only ever had one medic, so he needed to be versatile… and well equipped for the job. Owen dubbed both as our exobiologist and pathologist, aside from patching us up after a fight; and he's very good at all this."

"I know," she replied. "Otherwise, he wouldn't be here. Now, do you have more medical tools on this list?"

Jack shook his head. "Afraid not. The rest is scanning equipment or weaponry."

"I see," she said, a little more uncomfortable with the thought than with the idea of taking alien tools she hadn't seen working yet. "What's this Eye-5, for starters?"

"Oh, that's a very cool thing," Jack grinned. "A pair of special contact lenses that can be used to record the things the wearer sees. They look and function just like normal contact lenses, but they can transmit information wirelessly back to a computer network. A person at the other end then can communicate with the lens via a keyboard."

"Impressive," Dr. Shaw said. "Can they transmit sound, too?"

"Unfortunately, not," Jack replied. "But it has lip-reading software that transcribes lip movements to speech after a short delay of a second or two."

"Of course, it helps if the wearer faces the person who's speaking directly," Ianto added. "Otherwise, the results can be… interesting."

Jack ignored his comment. "Information transmitted from the lens can get recorded like conventional video," he explained. "As far as we can tell, it also can't be traced back to the surveillance team."

"Sounds practical," Dr. Shaw allowed. "Well, I guess it can't hurt to take them with us. How many of these things do you have?"

"Four pairs only, alas," Ianto answered. "We can either give one pair to each of the future survey teams, or send them all with the one team out scouting the area. Toshiko offered to take them, as they're already hooked up to her special laptop."

"Good, let her have them," Dr. Shaw said. "Any more such handy tools?"

"Well, there would be this data scanner," Ianto pointed at the next item on the list. "It's a device that can be used to store text and other data in the form of photographic images. By merely waving it at printed text and images, it can store them as information inside itself or translate the data to a computer. Toshiko calls it an iPod for books. She speculates that perhaps alien archaeologists used it to record ancient writings, which in our case would be very useful, as it's also capable of translating foreign languages."

Dr. Shaw studied the technical data in amazement. "The data storage capacity of this thing is incredible," she said, impressed. "Should we manage to reverse-engineer it, we could carry entire libraries in our pockets."

"It can also be used to pick locks," Ianto told her.

She frowned. "What? How is that possible?"

"We haven't got a clue," Ianto admitted, "but Toshiko has managed to do it at least once that I know of."

"Hmmm," she thought about it, her scientific interest definitely piqued. "Perhaps it has something to do with the sheer unlimited data storage capacity. I'll give the project to Peter Grodin. I'm sure he'll love it. Toshiko and Doctor Kusanagi can work with him on it. Having more of these things would be extremely practical," she ticked off the data scanning device on the list. "Now, what the heck is this quantum transducer?"

"Now that," Jack said thoughtfully, "is a very strange thing. It allows the user some kind of mental time travel, by converting the quantum traces of emotional events, both past and future, into a form that humans can experience, using nanotechnology. I've come to believe that it worked as a navigational device for travellers across the dimensions who use quantum traces to orient the flight of their craft."

"But he could be wrong, of course," Ianto added, earning a dark look from his husband.

"Which is why we call it a quantum transducer," Jack continued, ignoring his remark.

"Or simply the Ghost Machine," Ianto interjected. "When activated, by touching the buttons on the front, the user is shown an emotional event from the past of future. Aside from the actual event, though, it also transmits the thoughts of the people involved in the action."

"You mean it really can show the future?" Liz Shaw asked doubtfully.

"Only possible futures," Jack corrected, "that might or might not come to pass."

"However, so far all the visions the machine had relayed did come true," Ianto added.

"And in what way could that help us?" Liz Shaw asked sceptically. "I can figure out a dozen possible futures all on my own; and besides, knowing what might happen would only slow people down or freeze them in a fatal moment when a split-second decision could decide between life and death. I don't think we should take this thing with us, Jack."

"Perhaps not the whole thing," Jack allowed. "Just the half that shows us past events. Arriving somewhere in an abandoned settlement or am old battlefield always raises questions. This instrument could answer those questions and show us whether it's worth to watch the place or not."

"Perhaps," she said reluctantly. "But I want the other module destroyed, before my very eyes. And I want the rest to be kept in one of those containment boxes you used in the Hub. Only a selected few people will be allowed access to it. I'll consult Doctors Duvashar and Heightmeyer and choose the people they deem mentally stable enough to play with such a dangerous toy. Then I'll study the files of those people and select the most reliable ones; one for each team."

She held out her hand, and after a moment of hesitation, Jack took disconnected the "ghost machine" and dropped the module declared acceptable into her palm. He hated the idea of having to give it up, but he had to admit that she did have a point.

"Thank you," she said. "Now, how do you intend to destroy the rest of it?"

"What about demonstrating the effects of the Jamolean lance, Jack?" Ianto suggested. Turning to their boss, he added as an explanation. "It's a type of energy weapon… more like a gun than a lance, actually, save from its shape. It can produce an exothermic reaction that increases the temperature to fatal levels. Of course, it's possible that it only works on organic material. We haven't tested it on lifeless objects yet."

"I'd very much like to see the test," Liz Shaw said. "But why would you wish to take a weapon like that? We've packed more than enough weapons already; both traditional ones and a few zat guns. Not to mention the naquadah warheads I've managed to get from the SGC… and believe me, that wasn't an easy feat!"

"I can imagine that," Jack said. "In any case, the advantage of a Jamolean lance is that it can't be immediately recognized as a weapon, unlike standard guns. Not by technically advanced people anyway. That may prove to be and advantage."

"Plus, it has a rechargeable power cell, so it doesn't need ammunition," Ianto added, practical-minded as always.

"The only disadvantage is that it runs out of power after half a dozen shots or so, unlike our big gun," Jack said, pointing at the picture that showed the individual elements of the Torchwood-issue build-up gun. "Now, this is a nasty piece of work. One shot's enough to cause spontaneous combustion by all organic targets, and it has quite a few shots in it, which is the reason why we keep it in several parts, stored inside individual boxes."

"A wise precaution," Dr. Shaw said. "You only have this one?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Jack replied. "We might have been able to build more, but Torchwood Three simply didn't have the resources to do it – and we didn't want others to get their hands on the design. That could have proved… dangerous."

"Quite so," Liz Shaw agreed. "Right now, we could use a few more of those, though."

"Well we still have our stun guns," Jack pointed out. "They're a bit like those zat weapons, but with only two settings: stun and kill. And they work with batteries, which is a disadvantage."

"At least the batteries are rechargeable," Ianto reminded him. "People just ought to check if they're fully charged before going on a mission."

"Zat weapons are still better," Jack said.

"They are," Ianto agreed, "But we only got six of them. With our six stun guns as backup, we can provide energy weapons for an entire survey team. Not all creatures are vulnerable to projectile weapons, as you know."

"Believe me, I do know," Jack said grimly. "I wish the Doctor hadn't snapped my sonic blaster when I used to travel with him. I'd feel much better if I still had it."

"Yes, but the Doctor always suffered from the delusion of knowing everything better," Liz Shaw replied tartly. "All right, boys, the weapons have a go. What else do you have on your list? What's this inflatable cell?"

"Just what the name says," Jack answered. "It's basically a portable prison cell of probably Chulan origins. When thrown on the ground, it generates a force field around the prisoner."

"Now this is an excellent little thing," Liz said, impressed.

"Unfortunately, the battery runs out after an hour," Ianto pointed out.

"Can it be recharged?" she asked.

"No need for that," Ianto replied. "It recharges itself. But timing is important when one uses it."

"Like with so many other things," she said. "Very well, then. We'll take all the stuff you've listed here – they all appear useful, even though I still have my doubts about that quantum transducer. But Jack… you should have come to me with this list a lot earlier."

"I wanted to," Jack admitted, "but I, too, had my doubts. No offence, Liz, but I don't know you well enough yet… and I'm having my doubts about UNIT: More so as time goes by. I'm sorry."

"I do have my doubts about UNIT politics sometimes, too," she replied seriously. "I always had. But Jack, this isn't about UNIT. This is about the safety of a hundred and fifty people for whom we bear the responsibility; you and me before everyone else. If this is supposed to work, we shouldn't keep things from each other."

Jack had the decency to at least look contrite. "You're right, Liz. Again, I'm very sorry."

She smiled at him. For a woman of her age, she had a surprisingly cheeky smile. "Apology accepted. Now, let's get back to our tasks. The day isn't getting any younger... and neither am I. I'll meet you after supper to see if the Jamolean lance works on the transducer."


"Sir," Ianto said on their way to the Gate room to join the drill currently running; the addressing signalized that he wanted to ask something official, as he didn't call Jack sir anymore. "Are you really willing to destroy the other module of the Ghost Machine?"

Jack gave him an unreadable look. "What do you think?"

"I think," Ianto replied slowly, "that destroying one half might render the transducer completely useless. Even though they're not physically connected."

"Then you have your answer," Jack said flatly.

"Ianto nodded. "That's the answer I've feared, sir," he replied.

~TBC~