Fellowship of Inner Peace; Nigeria
Friday, October 6, 2019
Keara watched in her mind's eye. Miriam's army attacked as the first rays of sunlight filtered into the compound. Oliveira ordered the acolytes to surrender over the intercom as screams filled the silent hallways. The soldiers were killed. The psychics were tranquilized. His world burned.
She sympathized with Aman Oliveira. Regardless of his intentions, he created a home and family for many that had nothing. The lost and the lonely found purpose, albeit misguided, and a place to belong. Perhaps it was the consideration he showed in the end. Not only for the acolytes, but Idrissa. There were rumors about the two. She hadn't cared who slept with who. Oliveira could have left Idrissa behind. He only had enough time to chose between his lover and his information.
Miriam had an aptitude for leadership. She took the facility with minimal injuries and no unwanted deaths.
Keara woke from the trance with tears flowing down her face. Viewing the battle had been a training exercise. Her education was complicated by an ongoing argument over what type of psychic ability she had. A rarity at the refuge. One of the leaders was adamant that her remote-viewing was a parlor trick and not part of her actual ability.
Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales
Frustration over work, his relationship and life in general sent Jack Harkness to the roof. It was cold in the early hours of an October morning. Ianto followed him from their flat. He'd woke just after dawn from a nightmare. A warm bath and music made more sense than sitting on the roof watching him think.
"You should go back to bed." Jack called over his shoulder.
"I'm fine."
Ianto wasn't fine. He was cold, tired and paranoid.
Reluctant to abandon his pseudo meditation, Jack sat on a makeshift bench next to him. "Luc or Rhys?"
Ianto smiled.
Jack reached for Ianto's hand and twined their fingers together. "Talk to me."
"Its nightmares." Ianto sighed. "Absurd nightmares."
"The elderly nudist has his shades up again."
Ianto laughed. "No."
"I will keep guessing."
Ianto's body languages shifted and he all but whispered. "The grim reaper."
Jack kissed Ianto's forehead.
The access door opened and a man stepped onto the porch. He looked familiar somehow, even with large sunglasses. He quickly removed them.
"Forgive me for assuming you wouldn't be making out on the roof in October."
Jack released Ianto's hand and stood.
"We need new locks." Ianto grumbled.
"General Trefor Williams."
Ianto stood. "Already guessed that. We have coffee in the kitchen."
"Why are you here?" Jack asked.
"If he has blocks, I'm shooting him." Ianto disappeared through the access door.
Trefor Williams wasn't sure what to expect. The Jack he knew growing up was a confirmed bachelor. Mom was the only person he'd seen that settle Jack down. He'd heard Ianto stories, but interpreted them differently than his sister did. He suspected most of the grand romance was survivor's guilt.
The flat looked much different than the ones the Jack he knew had over the years. "Nice decorating. He definitely has better taste than you do."
Jack shrugged off his coat.
"I was sixteen. I got into it with Rhys about…" Trefor trailed off, obviously trying to think. "I don't know. I decided I was going to live with you. The flat looked like a military bunker."
"Really ugly military desk?" Ianto set coffee mugs on the table.
"Yeah."
Ianto motioned behind him. "In the office."
Trefor laughed.
"Why are you here?" Jack asked.
"Monitoring the insanity."
Jack sat at the table. "Explain this to me."
Trefor sat across from him.
Ianto remembered what Oliveira had said about Trefor. They looked so much alike. Not just facial features but body language.
"When Torchwood Three was destroyed, it left the area without a monitoring station. The aliens figured out how to cross through without being noticed. By 2029, the situation was potentially impossible to reverse. Mom ran a small Torchwood office. When it got bad, Anwen dropped out of college. Rhys's trucking company was little more than a Torchwood front. With a growing security problem, I had to be home-schooled." A beat. "You met Aman Oliveira in Nigeria following a lead on an artifact at the former office. He helped. The relationship helped a lot in the beginning."
Trefor stared off as if remembering. "I was eighteen and packed to move out. Living with Anwen and mom was intense. Then Rhys died. He'd survived so many things to be killed by a drunk driver. The woman had money and nothing was done. When she disappeared, and was later found dead, we were all suspects." Trefor focused on Jack. "Mom did what you could imagine. Torn by grief and trying to run the office with her children, she begged you to come home. That went as expected, except the amount of guilt. It was too much." Pause. "I was twenty-three and in Africa trying to negotiate a Torchwood arrangement with the Kenya refuge when Moss-Probert got mom. Anwen couldn't find you. I couldn't leave. She planned mom's funeral by herself; neither of us made it." A beat. "The next five years were a blur of bad situations. Two of Anwen's boyfriends died. I lost a lover, and a long-term friend disappeared; which was never resolved."
"What justified changing the past?"
"MP, and companies like them, were taking over third world countries and making backroom deals with aliens. The usual claims of pharmaceutical research and security concerns. It had a lot more in common with Hitler. The genetic purity movement made it worse." A beat. "By 2044, the biomechs were in full production. When combined with cloning and rapid aging, it was a nightmare. We were fighting corporate armies and aliens. Torchwood Global space station became the home of our space fleet."
"General?"
"I started leading ground troops, coordinating with the refuge. When we had ships, there weren't a lot of people who could fly them. MP tried infiltrating defense forces with biomechs. We had to genetic imprint everything. Then MP got the bright idea to clone pilots with imprints. My hybrid DNA is hard to clone." A beat. "The final decision was forced by Miriam. She was the best option, but I was the better pilot."
"Why show yourself now?" Ianto asked.
"The odd-defying situations and the coincidences had to have been noticed by now."
Anwen sat in the stairwell and waited. The newcomer had a time signature similar to Oliveira's and had been invited into Jack's flat. It didn't take much to guess.
"How did you know?" Trefor approached.
"I know my baby brother."
Trefor laughed.
"Do I really become a monster capable of playing games with people's lives? Ianto is afraid of his own shadow." She removed the chain from under her pajama top. "John is self-destructing. Either one of them could jump off the roof tomorrow." She was near the point of losing it. "What gave us the right to play god?"
"Ianto needs time. The PTSD was unexpected." As was her questioning him, apparently. "John is a rabid dog."
Anwen took a deep breath. "That rabid dog is why I'm still alive."
"You're not old enough to understand."
"I'm old enough to kill ships full of sentient beings in defense of the planet. I'm old enough for you to explain this to me."
Trefor said nothing.
"You wouldn't understand, darling," John said from farther down the stairs. He walked up behind Anwen, setting a hand on her shoulder. "War changes a person." A beat. "General Williams is a younger version of your uncle. He became a soldier to protect the planet from aliens. Jack became a leader. Different circumstances."
"What have you done?" Trefor demanded.
"Go back to your flat," John said.
Anwen wanted to stay and hear what her brother had to say for himself.
"Go."