Summary: What might have happened if cybermen had attempted to take over Cardiff.


Ianto knocked gently on the door of his boss's office. Usually he just gave a single polite tap and entered, ready to assist with whatever she needed, but on this occasion she'd asked for him specifically and even put a time in his calendar for them to meet. She must have meant business, though what kind of business he couldn't say. Some special project that needed his involvement, he hoped. Everyone else around here had special projects, but mostly he was just here to attend to whatever needed attending to. That was the job of the executive assistant to the head of Torchwood One.

'Come,' came the reply and Ianto pushed open the frosted glass door, admitting himself.

'Ah, Ianto,' Yvonne greeted. 'Come, sit down.' He slid into the modern white leather chair opposite her desk and flipped open his notebook, ready to jot down whatever was needed.

'I've got a little project for you,' she began, bolstering his hopes of finally having something specific to be in charge of.

'I'm all ears,' he said, sitting there with his pen poised.

'Need you to pop down to Cardiff for a few weeks.'

Ianto raised his eyebrows at her. 'Cardiff?' He'd come here to get away from his old life in Wales.

Yvonne's fingertips drummed on the thin leather folio in front of her. 'Torchwood Three,' she clarified. 'There's been a bit of an accident there.'

'An accident?' He didn't like the juvenile parroting of her words but she seemed a little reluctant to give him everything upfront. It wasn't like her. Something had her unsettled, which unsettled him in turn. Yvonne didn't get rattled by things.

'A complete shambles, actually,' she said, falling back into her more relaxed way of speaking with him. 'Suppose we shouldn't have come to expect any less from Torchwood Three.' She opened her folio for a second, perused the single page contents and then shut it again. 'The cyberman attempted to set up a base of operations there. Some piece of technology they were experimenting with in Cardiff that opened up a hole in the void between universes and let them through. The base was put into a lockdown and the team there held out against them for some time so we understand, however it was mildly successful, I suppose. They did manage to destroy them in a manner of sorts.'

Ianto felt shocked by the news. Cybermen from an alternate universe! A full on alien incursion. 'What did their debrief say?'

'None of them survived for a debrief. The situation was contained by the last surviving member of their small team, Captain Jack Harkness. At least he had the decency to go down with the ship. Set up some kind of timed electromagnetic pulse that killed their conversion technology and set off several explosive devices that destroyed the last few Cybermen remaining in the base. I've already dispatched a team to unseal the lockdown and start the clean up process.'

Ianto held his tongue. First Torchwood Four and now Torchwood Three. Bloody hell. 'And the project you need me for?'

Yvonne leaned forward over the desk, clasping her hands together. 'The job is twofold. One, to review the collection and removal of all technologies and artifacts to the London archives, and secondly, to…' she pursed her lips and she tried to find the right word, '…oversee the work of Doctor Tanizaki.'

'Who's he?'

'Cybernetics expert from Japan. UNIT recommended him. He's currently working on the surviving specimen. Important research for us.'

'One survived? I thought you said Torchwood Three destroyed them all?'

'Not exactly. It's, well, you'll see for yourself when you get there. Just make sure the good doctor doesn't cross any lines. You know what to do if he does.'



Ianto packed light for his new assignment. Just a few suits and one or two sets of casual clothes, which he stowed in the closet of the serviced apartment they'd arranged for him in the centre of town. He specifically didn't tell his family he would be in town on assignment. He didn't need the aggravation, and wanted to keep his mind fixed solely on the task ahead. Yvonne had charged him with checking everything that left the Torchwood Three base and nothing left without his say so.

He was directed to park in the underground car park beneath the Millennium Centre, just off Bute Street. The car park had big construction signs blocking the entrance, but men dressed in safety colours were letting through large trucks that were nondescript Torchwood issue, used to gather up things in an inconspicuous manner. As he pulled his Audi to the entrance and showed them his identification, he too was allowed past the barriers.

He followed the trucks down to the third lower level of the car park, sidling up in a space near them before being shown inside via yet another hidden door that looked like an unused fire exit and nothing more. Instead it led him right into the heart of the Torchwood Three operations hub.

The interior was as far removed from the pristine modernism of Canary Wharf as he could have imagined. The whole place was dark, dank and crumbling. Paint peeled from the metal gangways and railings and the concrete walls were stained with a century of water damage and other things he didn't care to think about. Lisa would have teased him no end about how a place that looked like this would upset his sensibilities. He was a man who didn't even like the scale on the inside of his kettle. This whole place looked just like that, except that he expected to see the damage caused by the explosive charges and couldn't. Perhaps they'd gone off in other parts of the base, which from the schematics he'd studied, were expansive and convoluted.

He flashed his credentials at a few of the military personnel positioned at various junctures and they directed him all the way to his new makeshift office, putting him in charge. If he hadn't known better, he'd have said that this office was actually that of the former Torchwood Cardiff leader, repurposed in a hurry for his temporary tenure. He paused a moment to reflect on the fact that the Torchwood personnel here had died rather than let an alien incursion breach their base. They'd done their country proud. It was not a sacrifice made in vain. There'd be a time and place to acknowledge their sacrifices, even if it wasn't right now.

There were already a small collection of files on the desk awaiting his approval for the artifacts already collected and ready for transport. He gave them a quick flick, confirming they were easy things to approve, such as the computer hardware and data servers, stripped out and ready to go back to London for analysis. They could wait however, as he remembered the other matter he'd been tasked with.

He asked the soldier standing just outside his office where he might find Doctor Tanizaki. 'That would be down in the dungeon, sir,' the soldier replied.

'Dungeon?' There were cells marked on the maps but no dungeon as such.

'Sorry, sir. That's just what we call it. Basement right at the bottom of the complex. Creepy place.' He showed Ianto where he could find it on his map.



It took him fifteen minutes to navigate the maze of tunnels and passages, stairs and Victorian lifts that took him down to the furthest corner of the hub, where the "dungeon" was located. He could understand why his counterparts from London had described it that way, the interior getting more and more dark and miserable the deeper down you went. When he finally saw the door at the end of the passage with its lone soldier standing guard outside, he felt a flutter of trepidation. The door was heavy metal, reinforced, with only a small caged window set in the upper part of it, through which he couldn't see anything. The young soldier grimaced and let him in, at which point his mouth went dry.

Inside it was like something from Frankenstein. The room snapped and crackled from the huge silver device taking up most of the limited space. It was a cross between a surgical table and something he imagined belonging in a logging mill, with huge rotary blades suspended threateningly overhead.

He swallowed down his initial fear at the sight of it as he spotted a lone figure standing near the machinery. 'Good morning, Doctor Tanizaki.'

The man scowled at him and said nothing, focusing on the machine instead.

'Konnichiwa, Tanizaki San,' he said instead, giving a deferential little bow of his head.

Tanazaki grunted and nodded back. 'Torchwood sent you to supervise my work?'

Ianto breathed a sigh of relief that the man spoke English. He'd just used the entirety of his Japanese language skills and didn't know what they'd have done otherwise. It seemed he'd merely passed some kind of initiation in respect that was required before they could begin working together. 'Among my other duties here,' he replied.

'Hmph.'

Ianto stepped forward, coming to encircle the machinery. He was even more shocked when. He saw that from the front in view, it was not only scarier than he imagined, but it also contained the cyberman survivor, strapped into its workings. It had been invisible from the back of the machine and the doorway. 'I thought it would be locked up somewhere,' he said, trying not to look at it too hard.

'It is perfectly safe here,' Doctor Tanizaki replied. 'It is weak. It cannot survive without the unit to preserve its failing functions.'

'It's dying?'

'Not dying. Surviving,' he said, sounding excited by the prospect. It was partway through the conversion process when the power was cut. 'Just look at it! Part cyberman, part human. Fascinating!'

Ianto gave it another look, horrified to truly take it all in, seeing it for what it was. Fascinating it wasn't. From the waist down it was almost completely metal, except for a little part at the top of the quadriceps that was still pale, exposed flesh. Further up his eyes travelled over the half covered torso, watching as the uncovered stomach continued to move gently up and down with steady breathing. The chest was again mostly encased in steel, as were the shoulders and upper arms. Parts of the lower arms still showed the skin of its original owner and the backs and palms of the hands were likewise still human skin, trapped in a skeleton of metallic fingers.

When he finally braced himself to let his eyes drift up to the face, he nearly gasped. The head was encased in a helmet of metal and one eye socket was a giant metal cog but on the other side the face was still so human, from the corner of the lips to the strong cheekbone, and the eyelid that lay shut as if in sleep. Ianto finally understood what Yvonne had meant. Torchwood Three's leader, Captain Jack Harkness had been the last man standing in their defense, and the last to be converted. He was what remained on the cyber army - defence and offence intermingled into one horrific monster.

'Is it?'

'It's sedated for now,' Tanizaki told him. 'Circulatory and nervous systems appear to have been made entirely cybernetic, but respiratory and sensory systems still seem to be organic. Without the conversion unit, it cannot sustain itself. It could not get up and walk out of here if that is what concerns you.'

It hadn't been top of his list of things that trouble him, but it was adding to a mental list of concerns. 'What do you propose to do with it?'

'Study it, of course. Understand how we can use cybernetic technology to replace organic systems that fail in human physiology. If possible, to return the human to functioning capacity.'

'You mean Jack Harkness survived…' he gesticulated at the mechanical contraption '…this? That the process could be reversed?' Was there even enough of the human body left to restore?

'Consciousness has been observed. The human subject still experiences elements of pain, even though neurologically speaking, it is capable of shutting off those signals. Perhaps part of the conversion that was not entirely completed,' he mused, toying with his glasses and readjusting them on his nose.

Ianto shuddered, though whether it was on account of the metal monster clamped in the machine or the dispassionate way the doctor woke about it, he couldn't say. All he knew was that he wanted to get the hell out of there. 'I'd like your preliminary reports on my desk by the end of the day so that we can assess the continuation of your work and what safety protocols need to be put in place.'

'My report will be done when I am done. And proprietary knowledge will not be made available for Torchwood's use without my express permission.'

Ianto didn't appreciate his tone and for once, ignored the fact that he was far younger and less experienced, setting down a marker for his expectations whilst he was stationed here. That was the job Yvonne had sent him here to do. 'End of the day,' he repeated. 'Your continuation and access to this secure facility are contingent upon it.'

He didn't wait for an acknowledgement, suspecting he wouldn't get one anyway. As he stepped out, he gave equally strict instructions to his military officers. 'Nothing in or out of that room without my knowledge and approval. If he objects to a body search, apprehend him and lock him up.' It wasn't quite the shoot to kill order that Yvonne had sanctioned for him, but it would do the job.



Upstairs he set himself to work, reviewing and signing off the files on his desk, checking the details and watching as the inventory of items were loaded onto trucks destined for the Limehouse underground storage facility. Some ambitious staffer had even stripped and inventoried the Cardiff Bay armoury, so Ianto diligently checked and signed off on every weapon and every box of bullets that eventually headed out the door. Yet even though it was fastidious, important work, he couldn't shake the images of what he'd seen downstairs. It bothered him in ways he couldn't even articulate to himself. Those cybermen had killed everyone in this facility and planned on making more of themselves using the bodies of the people who'd worked here, before spreading uncontrollably across the city, and then the world.

There were mountains of inventory files still waiting for his approval. From his position, there was a large round window painted with key solar system constellations and lines, but otherwise not obstructing his view of the facility beyond. Two dozen staff were packing things away in large plastic containers and sealing them with ubiquitous yellow tape that had the Torchwood T logo running along them every few inches. They packed quicker than he could review the listings and trucks were sitting idle until he could approve them all for loading. Eventually he'd catch them up as they ran out of low hanging fruit to pack away. If reports were to be believed, the extensive Torchwood Three archives would slow them down considerably, at which point he suspected his assignment would move from weeks into months. He'd have to negotiate things with Lisa who wouldn't be happy about their unplanned separation. Perhaps he could find a way to move her onto the project, and into his serviced apartment which was larger and more comfortable than the one they currently rented in London. He was confident he could bend Yvonne's ear to wrangle it, especially since she'd been the one that had gotten them together in the first place.

He did his best to focus and set aside his other responsibilities. Tanizaki couldn't go anywhere, and he had said that the cyberman was too weak to be a danger. If anyone knew what it was capable of, surely it had to be him as the leading expert in the field.



Hours drifted by in a blur as Ianto finally lost himself in the paperwork and process. It was late when someone finally knocked on the edge of the doorway, forcing him to raise his head.

'Doctor Tanizaki has left for the day, sir. Duly searched. He also asked me to give you this.' The soldier handed over a thin file and Ianto almost laughed. Tanizaki's report was remarkably scant on details, and Ianto knew it was done so intentionally. He didn't trust Torchwood and the feeling was growing mutual.

'Thank you,' he said, dismissing the man for the evening. He turned around in his chair and took in the view of the slowly emptying space. 'Last one left as usual,' he muttered to himself, pushing up from the desk where the remaining bits and pieces could wait until tomorrow. It was already late as it was.

He strolled out, registering all the tiny details he'd missed on his first inspection - the way the walls curved and hugged the space, making it feel cosier than it initially had, the tile work that had stood up well against a century and a half of use, and the tinkling, slapping sound of the water that dribbled down the tall silver water tower at the hub's centre, adding to the feel that the place had sprung a leak no one had bothered to fix.

He should have gone straight to the apartment, but something tugged at him. He didn't want to go down to that room alone, yet he needed another look. Perhaps in hindsight he should have asked the young soldier to stay a half hour more and accompany him down there, but he'd dismissed him already, and leaving here without knowing that the cyberman was secure had him on edge.



He traced his way back down through the labyrinth of passages, memorised from his first trip. All the while he got closer, he felt his stomach clench in tighter knots. There was nothing to be afraid of, he told himself, as his hand reached into his pocket for the key the soldier had given him. It was heavy and cold as he wrapped fingers around it, plucking it free and slipping it into the heavy lock on the door. He paused a second to peer through the tiny window, still unable to see anything, before flipping the key ninety degrees and hearing the loud clank of the tumblers in the lock falling into place.

He pulled the door slowly open. Two floodlights had been set up in each corner, keeping the room bathed in illumination. He moved slowly and quietly, each footstep feeling like it echoed a hundred times, before he was standing beside the machine, peering down at the half human, half robot creature, restrained in place.

It looked just the same as before, gleaming new metal merging into soft, pale flesh. He hadn't asked what happened to the other Torchwood Three personnel, whether they'd been converted like this or simply killed in the line of duty. He couldn't even begin to imagine the pain of going through what Jack Harkness must have. Death would surely be a relief.

He turned and checked the power monitors beside the huge machine, assuring himself that they were all operating at low levels, just enough to keep the machine ticking over with its life support functions and no more. His gaze cast itself upwards once more to the saw blades hovering menacingly overhead. They were designed for cutting up bodies, that much he knew, but now they hung there uselessly.

'See? Nothing down here to worry about whatsoever,' he said. 'Panic merchant, you are.'

He walked back toward the door when a rattling breath and a muffled sound stopped his footsteps and his heart in an instant.

'Kill…' a breathy voice uttered.

Ianto was frozen to the spot, terrified to turn around, but he made himself do it anyway. He expected the cyberman to be standing right there behind him and was relieved when it wasn't. It was a stupid thought. He'd have heard it if it had broken free. Swallowing down a lump in his throat, he ventured back towards the machine.

As he approached, everything looked the same except for that fact that before there'd been half a human face relaxed in a state of deep repose, now there was a face scrunched up in anguish, and one vivid blue eye looking straight at him.

'Kill,' came the single word invocation.

Ianto said nothing. Clearly anything human had been completely overwritten by now. It was to be expected, he supposed. He'd read the little research there was on the subject. Conversion didn't leave anything of the human behind. They were just raw material upon which the Cybermen could build their armies. It was madness to think that its victim was speaking of its own accord. It couldn't even breathe for itself.

'You won't be doing any more killing,' he told it, feeling strangely emboldened. 'Your foothold here is over. Torchwood made sure of it. You're all that's left.'

'Kill me,' it said this time.

The words startled Ianto. Perhaps it had malfunctioned. 'What did you say?'

That one blue eye fixed him with such a will that he didn't think he could break away from it even if he tried. 'Kill… me…'

Ianto's eyebrows knitted together as he frowned at it. The words were strained yet unambiguous. 'Kill you?'

'Yes…'

Ianto was suddenly drawn to the metal monster. He tried something different. 'What's your name?'

'J-Jack… Hark… ness…'

Jesus. 'Are you in pain?'

There was a pause. 'Yes. Kill me… Please…'

'Er, hang on a sec.' Ianto fumbled around the room, pulling out drawers from the various wheeled cabinets dotted around the room, searching for medical supplies. Eventually he found a small box of vials labelled morphine. He carefully read the instructions before poking a needle into the vial and drawing out a small dose, then injected it into the intravenous line attached to the machine. After all, what was the worst that could happen? Robots didn't feel pain, but humans could. 'How's that?'

The eye closed for a moment and the jaw in its metal brace fell slack. He panicked momentarily that he'd given too much morphine.

'Thank… you…'

He could just imagine the intervening hours between night and morning, with no pain relief. Jack would be screaming by morning, and begging for the blessed relief that came from morphine induced oblivion.

Ianto leaned over to study the minute muscle twitches in the human side of the face, watching them with stern concentration as the eye slowly opened back up and worked to focus on him. There was such a look of gratitude and helplessness in that single gaze. 'Who're you?'

'My name is Ianto Jones. I work for Torchwood One. We commandeered this facility after receiving word that it was subject of a foothold incursion, in which all members of the facility were killed in action.'

'We won?' the voice asked him, a little stronger than before.

Ianto tried for a reassuring little smile, assuming that he really was talking to Captain Jack Harkness. 'Yes. You stopped them.' Adding a "well done" on the end felt too condescending.

There was the faintest nod of acknowledgement. 'Not over. Must destroy me.'

'That's not necessary,' Ianto replied, breaking from company policy. 'We have experts who claim they can undo what's been done to you.'

'No.' There was a firmness to the word. 'You don't understand.' Jack paused again for a long while.

Ianto wasn't sure what it was he didn't understand, but he didn't want to rush things. 'Can I get you anything?'

'Pain…'

Ianto risked another small dose of painkillers and gave them a few minutes to take effect.

'I'm losing,' Jack finally said, strength returning to his voice, bringing with it a distinctive American accent. 'Not long now.'

'Not long for what?'

'Taking over… my mind. Can't keep fighting it. You… you're all in… danger. Don't let it out.'

'Are you saying that some of the cyberman's programming is already active? That it's trying to rewrite your consciousness?'

'Yes.'

'How long? Days? Hours?' He scarcely dared to ask if it were mere minutes.

'No time… to waste. Must kill… me. Destroy cybermen.'

'I can't make that decision. Let me help you.'

'Can't.' He suddenly cried out in agony despite the painkillers already coursing through his system. 'Running out of time! Help me. Help… me. Help…' His face contorted and Ianto couldn't get any more sense out of him. Terrified of what might happen, he reached for the bottle and syringe and administered a heavy dose; not enough to kill but enough to drive him into a heavy sedation. Moments later the half converted body stopped arching and straining against the shackles that held it in place and it fell limp against the metal dock.

Ianto kept his distance, hand covering his mouth as his head pounded with the blood rushing around in it, trying to process what he'd just witnessed. When nothing happened for what felt like an eternity, he risked stepping closer again. 'I'm going to get help,' he promised, reaching down and giving the hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance. 'Just hold on.'

He stepped out of the room and locked the door again, then pulled his phone from his pocket. 'Doctor Tanizaki? It's Ianto Jones from Torchwood. You need to get down here. Right now.'



Ianto waited for the doctor to arrive by pacing around his makeshift office. Rifling around in the desk he found a semi-automatic gun which he slipped into his waist, after checking it was loaded. As a rule he didn't love guns, but he might need it all the same. In another drawer on his search he found a bottle of well-aged scotch. He didn't feel even the slightest guilt as he poured himself a small finger of the amber liquid into one of the crystal tumblers sitting on a silver tray behind the desk for what had to be just such an occasion. He threw it back to settle his nerves and felt better for it.

When Tanizaki arrived, Ianto led him through the corridors from the car park down to the basement. He didn't have time to listen to the aging Japanese scientist complain about the hour and how inappropriate it was to be spoken to the way Ianto had, making demands that he get out of bed this instant and be in the first taxi that came along.

Ianto unlocked the door and was relieved to find Jack still there, still in his drug induced comatose state. He'd had time to think through his options and it seemed clear that there was only one. As much as he wished to save a fellow Torchwood agent, could he really risk it when that very person was telling him there was no chance of being saved? He'd already reconciled his own fate, now he was asking Ianto to do the same.

'It was him,' Ianto said. 'Jack Harkness. He was talking to me.'

Tanizaki ignored him, taking his pen light and flashing it into the eye he prised open with a gloved hand, scrutinising his state. 'The human consciousness is unlikely to survive; only the body. Even in a half conversion process such as this. A remnant stored memory within the neurological core that perhaps malfunctioned.'

'He wanted us to destroy him. That's what he said.'

Tanizaki hovered protectively over the busy. 'No. It cannot be destroyed. We will never have another opportunity like this to study how the conversion process works and how it will better the human race.'

'Better the human race?' Ianto nearly choked on the words. 'These things want to wipe us out. They killed everyone in this facility.'

'The technology can be refined. Conscious thought is removed in the process but it doesn't have to be.'

Ianto winced at the suggestion, as if he were suggesting nothing more than not adding tomato sauce to a bacon and egg fry-up. 'I met that consciousness tonight. It didn't sound too much like it wasn't surviving to me.'

'You were here interfering with my work?'

'Speaking to a Torchwood operative is not interfering. The leader of this facility, no less.'

Tanizaki drew himself up to his full height, though it was no match for Ianto's stature even as he stepped into the man's personal space. 'You could have jeopardised everything! It's not strong enough. If the human dies then we lose everything!'

Ianto felt his jaw clench. 'That human has a name. And it is fighting a battle we can't even begin to understand. He said he's losing, trying to hold on to what makes him human. If he loses then the cyberman programming takes over.'

'It doesn't matter. It cannot escape the machine. It does not have the power to do so, even if it could. The machine is all that is keeping it alive.'

'It's lying to you, making you think it's weaker than it is. That's what Jack told me. That's what they do, isn't it? I've read the reports from UNIT. They barely stopped the one that invaded their Ashton Down facility in 1979. Even when they thought it was dead it was just in suspended animation, waiting for them to throw it on the scrap heap. It's why we have to destroy it, burn every last bit of metal and machinery.'

Tanizaki stood firm. 'No.'

'Yes.' He hated himself for saying it, but what other option was there?

Tanizaki glared at him. 'You don't have that authority. I did my own research tonight. You're just a caretaker here. Coordinating the removalists. Yvonne Hartman's shitanomono.'

Ianto had no idea what that was but he took it to be offensive. 'Fine. You stay here until morning. You keep him sedated and monitor him or you can come up with a brilliant plan for how we stop the conversion from progressing and then how we reverse it. Either way, you're not going anywhere.' Petulant as it might have been, he locked Tanizaki in the room to make sure of it.



There was another glass of scotch before Ianto felt brave enough to ring Yvonne in the middle of the night. Even as her executive assistant, there were certain lines you just didn't cross, but this was Torchwood business, and Torchwood never really slept. The second drink hit him harder than the first, and he wished he'd stopped to eat something first just to soak up the latent effects.

'Ianto…' answered the clipped but slightly slurred voice of his boss.

'I'm really sorry to call you this late, but we've got a bit of a situation down here.'

He heard a shuffling of slippered feet, presumably heading for the kitchen as the telltale click of a kettle was switched on. 'Go on.'

He began to explain the last few hours to her as the kettle boiled away in the background. It must have been full to the brim because it took a full four minutes to ping itself off, by which time haled somehow managed to succinctly elucidate the current state of affairs, leaving out the small matter of having incarcerated their lead scientist. That was just window dressing.

'Okay, let me stop you there,' Yvonne said, teaspoon audibly clinking the sides of the mug as she stirred in milk and sugar. 'We're not putting him down, Ianto.' It was a strange choice of words, as if the leader of Torchwood Three - much as he might have grated on the nerves of his Torchwood One counterpart - was nothing more than a stray puppy underfoot.

'But Yvonne… you've read the same reports as me. The Captain said it himself that he wanted us to kill him rather than risk it. Doctor Tanizaki doesn't much care either way whether the person underneath survives or not. He just wants to be able to prove that it can be done for the sake of science.'

There was a tired sigh.' Doctor Tanizaki can bleat on all he likes about improving the human condition with medical grade cybernetic technology. That's not the endgame here, Yvonne said. We want his research so that we can build defensive weapons to use against them.'

'And I am all for that, but the risk…'

'You say you spoke to Captain Harkness? The real Captain Jack Harkness?'

'Yes,' he said, feeling sure of himself. 'And he said that the cyberman programming is just lying there in wait to take over and start this whole process back up again.'

'Have you considered for a moment that what you spoke with wasn't Jack Harkness at all?'

There was a beat. 'What?'

'If the cyberman thought we were able to analyse the technology to better understand it, then wouldn't it try and do everything it could to prevent that? Kill me, smash me up into little pieces, burn me. Destroy any chance you have of ever figuring out how to destroy us once and for all. Wouldn't that be what it would tell us if it thought we might otherwise learn something invaluable?'

'I…' he hadn't thought of that. Hearing it now made it a compelling argument. Yvonne had a way of making even the most ludicrous thing sound totally plausible in her calm, logical way.

'I've always admired your endeavour, Ianto, I really have, but I think on this occasion that you've let your emotions get the better of you. Everything is under control, I promise. Captain Harkness is dead. The Cybermen would rather die than be captured and studied. They're emotionless soldiers, using our own emotions against us.'

'I suppose,' Ianto said, feeling less and less confident by the second. 'Look, I'm really sorry that I called you.'

'Don't be. You have nothing to apologise for,' she replied, reminding him why he enjoyed working with her so much. Nothing was ever too much trouble. 'I'd rather you raise your concerns than not. You've got this under control. That's why I put you in charge.'

'Thanks, Yvonne. For everything.'

'Just get the job done and get back here as soon as you can. God knows Adrian can't make a cup of coffee to save himself.'

He slumped back in the chair and puffed out a sigh. Being in charge wasn't nearly as easy as he'd thought it might be, and this was meant to be a simple assignment. Perhaps he was better off just being Yvonne's assistant - the person that made her coffee and was a general dogsbody for everything else. If you only followed orders, you couldn't get into that much trouble.

He closed his eyes for a moment and let the warm lull of the alcohol in his system work its magic, feeling relaxed and at ease. Tomorrow everything would go back to normal.



He hadn't meant to sleep as such, but he knew he'd been out of it for at least two hours, judging by the slightly refreshed feeling in his body. He checked his watch and realised it was still too early for anyone else to be here, but not so early that there was any point trying to go back to his apartment for a few more hours of sleep, shower and a fresh set of clothes. Instead his stomach growled at him and he could have murdered a bacon buttie or two, but it was still too early for those as well, even in Cardiff.

His eyes wandered around the office, thinking about the man that had sat in this very chair only a few days ago. It was full of strange outmoded items, radios and a brass set of scales, an old gramophone, a funny piece of coral on a metal stand and a collection of science fiction paperbacks from the sixties, when aliens and the cold war had fascinated the masses. Now they were just silly and dated. The whole palace felt out of time, trapped in a different decade, a different century, even a different millennium.

As his eyes fished drifting from one curious object to the next they finally landed back on his laptop. At first it was a surprise that it was even on. It should have put itself to sleep hours ago when it had been abandoned, yet the screen glowed white and his emails were open. There was a brand new draft open in a separate pop out box. The cursor blinked at the end of three letters all in caps. HEL…

Seeing them made Ianto bolt from the leather chair. Oh, hell was right, he thought. His laptop was only connected to the Torchwood servers to access the Wifi.

His hand began to shake as he picked up his phone and dialled Tanizaki's number. It took more rings than Ianto liked. Either he was compromised or he was just pissed at Ianto and refusing to take his call.

'Pick up, pick up,' Ianto murmured into the handset.

'I demand that you let me out of here,' came the gruff answer. 'You have n90 right to-'

'Just shut up for a second,' Ianto snapped, already striding quickly towards the basement as he continued talking. 'This cyber conversion unit. Is it in any way hooked up to the other Torchwood systems in this facility?'

'No. Basic power supply only with a protective firewall as a backup. Now, are you-'

Ianto pulled the phone away from his ear, not wanting to hear the rest and needing quiet time to think. Something had broken through the firewall and latched itself into the network. Since they weren't in a lockdown and everything else was functioning normally, it was only a guess that Jack had tried to get into the system to send him a message. But if Jack could get past the firewall, what was to say the cyberman couldn't also? He could only assume the reason Jack hadn't finished his message was because he was fighting against the cyberman consciousness, trying to hold it back from flossing their systems. If it got into the Torchwood network, it could hop to Torchwood One systems, and then from there, use the Wifi to spread itself all over the globe. Who knew what else it might be capable of once it had a foothold there. There were robotics and AI systems all over the planet, 3D printers and everything a cyber army might need to start rebuilding.

He turned right at a junction when he would have normally turned left to breach the basement. It was no longer his target destination. Everything around here was running off grid power, and failing that, a backup generator that would kick in during a sudden loss of mains power. Keeping it out of the computers was key. A total power shut-down was the only option. It would put the hub into an automatic lockdown for at least twelve hours. If it didn't work, then he'd be on his own without any help from the outside world.

He kept running, banking left and right like he'd navigated this place every day of his life. That was the one benefit of having a photographic memory. All the way at the other end of the base, he finally reached the power generator room. It hummed happily, currently feeding off the national grid and not needing to work for its supper. That was until he came along and began entering override codes, switching it from mains to generator. Upstairs in Jack's office, along with his search for the gun and the scotch, he'd found a small notebook full of codes. Unlike him, everybody else wrote down the things they couldn't remember. On the fifth attempt, he found the Captain's override code, and the generator whirred into life, switching off the lights and replacing them with a dull red glow from emergency lighting.

'One down, one to go,' he muttered to himself.

The generator was trickier, insofar as it wasn't designed to be turned off for any reason. All the same, it was no less technologically advanced than any other generator and ran on a basic fuel mix.

Pulling the gun from his belt he gave it a furtive look. He might blow himself up in the process, but so be it. Lisa would make sure he got a good send off. He aimed it near the fuel lines and fired three bullets. It had the desired effect, first tearing the fuel line, then igniting the fuel. With a whump, he knew it was going to blow and he ran like hell in the opposite direction, rounding the corner of the concrete reinforced wall just as it did so, knocking him off his feet. A few seconds later he felt the thud of the facility locking itself down, using up that last spark of energy to do so, and then he was plunged into endless darkness. As much as he might have liked to have just sat there, catching his breath, he knew the job still wasn't done. Flipping his phone onto its flashlight setting, he worked his way back through the myriad of corridors towards the basement.



He could hear the pounding on the door long before he reached it. There was still a glow coming from the small window and he remembered that the floodlights operated on their own small battery packs. He pressed himself to it and called out. 'Tanizaki? Is that you?'

'Let me out of here now!' It was a command made in anger rather than fear. Ianto took it to mean that he was fine, just really pissed off. That was the least of his problems.

Ianto unlocked the door and was immediately accosted by the shorter man. He might have rough him off straight away but the sudden wash of bright lights blinded him after stumbling around in the darkness of the hub. Even so, it didn't take long for Ianto to gain the upper hand. Pulling a gun on the scientist helped as well. 'Stay over there and don't move,' Ianto ordered him.

With Tanizaki sulking in the corner of the room, Ianto moved towards the metal unit at the heart of the room. All the monitors were blank, having nothing to power their displays. Only the main conversion unit gleamed in the wash of the floodlights. Ianto watched the cyber body as it lay there unmoving, until he caught the tiniest movement. An eyelid flickered up, revealing that same blue eye from before. There was the faintest curling up at the edge of those lips as he saw Ianto hovering over him. Ianto grabbed Jack's hand and tried to squeeze warmth into it.

'Thank you, Ianto… Jo…' the word trailed off and he was gone. In that instant Ianto felt the whole weight of the world drop from his shoulders.

Tanizaki had found a backbone and ignored the threat of the gun he came rushing over to inspect the unit, fussing anxiously over it. 'The power has been off for too long!'

'Sorry. So sorry,' Ianto apologised. 'We had some kind of power outage. Something tripped the main line and took out the generator. That's what I was trying to tell you earlier. Some fragment of the cyberman was hacking our systems.'

'Impossible,' Tanizaki argued.

Ianto shook his head. Not impossible. Jack had managed it. Sent him an SOS in desperation, pleading with him to put the lives of everyone else on the planet ahead of his own. Whatever Yvonne's beef with him, he'd proven he was Torchwood to the core. A real hero. Ianto would make sure that was how he, and his team, would be remembered. He hoped that maybe one day he'd live up to that same level of bravery and heroism.



After twelve hours of being locked down with Tanizaki, Ianto was desperately happy to finally be released from the Torchwood Three facility. A whole platoon of London's military division were there, guns raised and ready for anything. It was anticlimactic for them to face down nothing more than two dishevelled men in suits. Yvonne, of course, was also there waiting for him.

'Torchwood Cardiff has not been a happy hunting ground for you, has it?' she asked, arms folded but at least not looking mad. More like she knew perfectly well what had transpired even without him having briefed her.

'The cyberman was unfortunately unable to be saved on account of the sudden and unexpected loss of power.'

She tipped her head sideways at him, searching for traces of the lie. 'I suppose we'll just have to incinerate it now.'

'I think that's probably for the best.'

She nodded pensively, gazing around at the Plass which had turned blustery. 'There still remains the task of transferring everything else back to London. I trust I can leave that in your capable hands to see through? Torchwood Three's legacy?'

He nodded. 'There's nothing I'd like to do more.'