Torchwood/Dr Who - fic - The Torchwood Girls, Part 11, Jack, OCs, PG
I have 2 parts of The Torchwood Girls for you!
Title - The Torchwood Girls, Part 11
Author - laurab1
Characters - Jack, OCs
Rating - PG for semi-graphic war events
Length - approx 1340 words
Spoilers - TW: general series, DW: to 3.11-13
Summary - Jack has lost countless men over the last two years, and he himself has somehow managed to not die, even once.
Disclaimer: alas, not all of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
Part 1, including art (original version)
Part 2 (original version)
accompanying art by _medley_
Part 3 (original version)
Part 4 (original version)
Part 5 (original version)
accompanying art
Part 6 (original version)
Part 7 (original version)
Part 8 (original version)
Part 9 (original version)
Part 10 (original version)
The Torchwood Girls
by Laura
Part 11
All he gets is another run-in with the little Pegasi. No aliens intent on taking over the Earth, just some flying horses, easily sent away. He’s kinda disappointed.
Later, after kissing his girls goodbye, Jack goes to London, before heading back to the Front. And promptly ends up in the aftermath of a Zeppelin bombing raid on London. The Zeppelin air raid, the one that happens on September the 8th, 1915. Germany’s L13 had managed to bomb central London.
“I’m sorry,” Jack says, addressing the city, surveying the huge destruction. “You’ll come through this, though. You always do, no matter what gets thrown at you.” He then notices an ambulance parked a little further up, on the other side of the street, with a small group of people stood by it. “Guess I’d better lend a hand, then.”
Reaching the group, Jack hears a Scottish female voice, the tone of which is not unlike that possessed by his women, back in Cardiff. Sounds like she’s instructing the people on how to re-dress their wounds. It also sounds like the men in the group don’t think she knows what she’s talking about, as she’s a ‘only a woman’. A little closer, and Jack can see the expressions, and her Red Cross armband. She’s a redhead, mid thirties, and oh, she’s biting back a swearword.
Or maybe not. It’s been a while since he heard that particular word come out of a woman’s mouth.
“Sir, that is what you should do. I did pay attention when St Andrew’s came to my work and taught us first aid,” she tells one of the men. “Or do you not want these bandages? I’m sure the boys in the trenches would appreciate them.”
“Definitely,” Jack says, joining the circle, standing by the volunteer medic, arms crossed over his chest. “Need all the help we can get.” His uniform instantly gets the group to be quiet. “Hi. Colonel Jack Harkness, Number Three Squadron, RFC. I know battlefield medicine, and I’d listen to the lady, if I were you. She knows her stuff.”
“Colonel,” she addresses Jack. He can see she doesn’t know whether to be annoyed at him for breaking her flow, or grateful for the assistance.
“Ma’am,” he steadily replies, trying not to grin. Jack watches her finish giving instructions and hand out the bandages. Then his internal radar starts beeping. Very loudly.
When the group has dispersed, she sounds rather put out as she tells him, “I was in control of the situation, you know. Didn’t need you butting in.”
“I saw that,” Jack says, defending himself, leaning against the ambulance. “I was only giving you back up.”
“Aye, Colonel,” she acknowledges, with a small sigh, and offers him her hand. “Miss Louise Burns, Red Cross volunteer.”
Jack pushes off the vehicle and shakes Louise’s hand. A kiss to her knuckles would probably earn him a knee between his legs. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Burns. What would you normally be doing, if you weren’t patching up ungrateful Londoners?” he asks, as he drops her hand.
“Secretary. God, it’s nowhere near as exciting as this.” Louise laughs, a little bitterly. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”
“Not at all. Saving the world’s --” Can he say that? Oh, what the hell. His radar’s still making a noise. “Saving the world’s serious business, Louise, and yeah, kinda arousing. You got something to write with?”
Louise gapes at him for at least thirty seconds, before shaking her head. Muttering something under her breath, she pulls a small notebook from her coat pocket and hands it to Jack, along with a pencil. Flipping to a blank page, he writes down Torchwood Cardiff’s telephone number. “Listen, Louise. You want out of being a secretary, but not out of this,” Jack says, returning the notebook and pencil, and gesturing to themselves and the ambulance, “call that number, and tell them the Captain gave it to you.” At that point, his radar finally silences.
“Captain?” Louise asks.
“Yeah, Captain. Long story. I gotta go, now.” Jack takes Louise’s hand, and does decide to risk a kiss to her knuckles, this time. He also salutes her, saying, “Ma’am.”
“Bloody show-off American,” he hears Louise mutter, possibly affectionately, as he then runs off. Before she hits him.
“Yeah,” Jack says, chuckling.
***
Then, he does return to the Western Front. In September and October, it’s the Battle of Loos, supposed to be “The Big Push.” But it’s really a complete disaster.
Photos taken on recon sorties, by Jack’s squadron, and others, show that the German defences have been massively strengthened in the area to be attacked, with three lines of defence.
Some squadrons also undertake missions to bomb German railway and other communications. Unfortunately, the weather’s dreadful, and it’s soon impossible to tell precisely where British troops are, ruling out accurate close-support artillery fire, and limiting observation.
The rest, Jack once again remembers from his studies at the Time Agency.
The British hold the town of Loos for just three days, 25th to 27th of September, before considerable supply problems and lack of men to continue to hold the town drive them back to their starting positions. Five days later, German forces regain most of the ground they'd lost during the initial battle.
And then there’s the gas, poison and smoke screen. Chlorine gas is made use of for the first time by British forces, because they don’t have enough fire power from their guns.
There are more than 61,000 British casualties in this battle, and over 7,700 of them are fatal.
***
When she and the rest of the Torchwood Cardiff women are neither discussing the war, running for their lives, shooting aliens (thank God they still have bullets) or dealing other Rift fallout, Amy spends much of the winter of 1916 playing with the differential analyser.
First, she reads Ioan’s reports on it. She does knows all about differential equations, having studied them while she was reading mathematics at the LSE. There are ordinary, partial, delay, stochastic or random and algebraic differential equations, all complicated calculations. In the course of her experiments, Amy realises something. Carrying her reports and the differential analyser, she goes to their physics expert.
“Eleanor, I think we could --" Amy cuts herself off, not quite sure what to say.
“Amy?” Eleanor prompts.
“I think we could monitor and attempt to control the Rift with this analyser, and the equations it can perform, Eleanor. Will you help me with this?”
“Of course I will! What would you like me to do?”
“Thank you.” Amy explains her ideas, and Eleanor listens intently.
***
In the summer of 1916, the long, bloody, muddy, Godforsaken mess that is the Battle of the Somme starts, and takes up much of the second half of the year.
Jack has lost countless men over the last two years, and he himself has somehow managed to not die, even once. His photographer for the initial surveillance of the battlefield area is a new arrival, a Captain Mark Earnshaw. He has a new plane, too, a Farman MF-II. She’s another incredibly ungainly machine, but she’ll do her job.
“How on Earth are the troops going to fight on that, Jack?” Mark asks, as they fly over the battlefield, and he takes pictures that show where the German artillery is stationed. “It’ll easily turn into mud.”
Jack sighs, and doesn’t answer.
***
The RFC hold air supremacy over the Somme battlefield for three months, July to September of 1916. They have ten squadrons and 185 aircraft; Germany only has 129 planes. With more aircraft, along with tethered balloons, Britain can spot more enemy artillery than Germany is able to. But in September, the German Air Service receives new aircraft, and regains supremacy.
And on the ground, tanks are used for the first time.
The RFC lose 782 aircraft and 576 pilots during the battle. British deaths on the first day total over 19,000. Total Allied casualties for the whole battle are nearly 625,000, and of them, more than 146,000 are either killed or missing.
crosspost:
torch_wood
torchwood_fic
torchwoodgenfic
dwfiction
new_who
galactic_conman
john_joan
Continue to Part 12
Teaspoon
Title - The Torchwood Girls, Part 11
Author - laurab1
Characters - Jack, OCs
Rating - PG for semi-graphic war events
Length - approx 1340 words
Spoilers - TW: general series, DW: to 3.11-13
Summary - Jack has lost countless men over the last two years, and he himself has somehow managed to not die, even once.
Disclaimer: alas, not all of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
Part 1, including art (original version)
Part 2 (original version)
accompanying art by _medley_
Part 3 (original version)
Part 4 (original version)
Part 5 (original version)
accompanying art
Part 6 (original version)
Part 7 (original version)
Part 8 (original version)
Part 9 (original version)
Part 10 (original version)
The Torchwood Girls
by Laura
Part 11
All he gets is another run-in with the little Pegasi. No aliens intent on taking over the Earth, just some flying horses, easily sent away. He’s kinda disappointed.
Later, after kissing his girls goodbye, Jack goes to London, before heading back to the Front. And promptly ends up in the aftermath of a Zeppelin bombing raid on London. The Zeppelin air raid, the one that happens on September the 8th, 1915. Germany’s L13 had managed to bomb central London.
“I’m sorry,” Jack says, addressing the city, surveying the huge destruction. “You’ll come through this, though. You always do, no matter what gets thrown at you.” He then notices an ambulance parked a little further up, on the other side of the street, with a small group of people stood by it. “Guess I’d better lend a hand, then.”
Reaching the group, Jack hears a Scottish female voice, the tone of which is not unlike that possessed by his women, back in Cardiff. Sounds like she’s instructing the people on how to re-dress their wounds. It also sounds like the men in the group don’t think she knows what she’s talking about, as she’s a ‘only a woman’. A little closer, and Jack can see the expressions, and her Red Cross armband. She’s a redhead, mid thirties, and oh, she’s biting back a swearword.
Or maybe not. It’s been a while since he heard that particular word come out of a woman’s mouth.
“Sir, that is what you should do. I did pay attention when St Andrew’s came to my work and taught us first aid,” she tells one of the men. “Or do you not want these bandages? I’m sure the boys in the trenches would appreciate them.”
“Definitely,” Jack says, joining the circle, standing by the volunteer medic, arms crossed over his chest. “Need all the help we can get.” His uniform instantly gets the group to be quiet. “Hi. Colonel Jack Harkness, Number Three Squadron, RFC. I know battlefield medicine, and I’d listen to the lady, if I were you. She knows her stuff.”
“Colonel,” she addresses Jack. He can see she doesn’t know whether to be annoyed at him for breaking her flow, or grateful for the assistance.
“Ma’am,” he steadily replies, trying not to grin. Jack watches her finish giving instructions and hand out the bandages. Then his internal radar starts beeping. Very loudly.
When the group has dispersed, she sounds rather put out as she tells him, “I was in control of the situation, you know. Didn’t need you butting in.”
“I saw that,” Jack says, defending himself, leaning against the ambulance. “I was only giving you back up.”
“Aye, Colonel,” she acknowledges, with a small sigh, and offers him her hand. “Miss Louise Burns, Red Cross volunteer.”
Jack pushes off the vehicle and shakes Louise’s hand. A kiss to her knuckles would probably earn him a knee between his legs. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Burns. What would you normally be doing, if you weren’t patching up ungrateful Londoners?” he asks, as he drops her hand.
“Secretary. God, it’s nowhere near as exciting as this.” Louise laughs, a little bitterly. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”
“Not at all. Saving the world’s --” Can he say that? Oh, what the hell. His radar’s still making a noise. “Saving the world’s serious business, Louise, and yeah, kinda arousing. You got something to write with?”
Louise gapes at him for at least thirty seconds, before shaking her head. Muttering something under her breath, she pulls a small notebook from her coat pocket and hands it to Jack, along with a pencil. Flipping to a blank page, he writes down Torchwood Cardiff’s telephone number. “Listen, Louise. You want out of being a secretary, but not out of this,” Jack says, returning the notebook and pencil, and gesturing to themselves and the ambulance, “call that number, and tell them the Captain gave it to you.” At that point, his radar finally silences.
“Captain?” Louise asks.
“Yeah, Captain. Long story. I gotta go, now.” Jack takes Louise’s hand, and does decide to risk a kiss to her knuckles, this time. He also salutes her, saying, “Ma’am.”
“Bloody show-off American,” he hears Louise mutter, possibly affectionately, as he then runs off. Before she hits him.
“Yeah,” Jack says, chuckling.
***
Then, he does return to the Western Front. In September and October, it’s the Battle of Loos, supposed to be “The Big Push.” But it’s really a complete disaster.
Photos taken on recon sorties, by Jack’s squadron, and others, show that the German defences have been massively strengthened in the area to be attacked, with three lines of defence.
Some squadrons also undertake missions to bomb German railway and other communications. Unfortunately, the weather’s dreadful, and it’s soon impossible to tell precisely where British troops are, ruling out accurate close-support artillery fire, and limiting observation.
The rest, Jack once again remembers from his studies at the Time Agency.
The British hold the town of Loos for just three days, 25th to 27th of September, before considerable supply problems and lack of men to continue to hold the town drive them back to their starting positions. Five days later, German forces regain most of the ground they'd lost during the initial battle.
And then there’s the gas, poison and smoke screen. Chlorine gas is made use of for the first time by British forces, because they don’t have enough fire power from their guns.
There are more than 61,000 British casualties in this battle, and over 7,700 of them are fatal.
***
When she and the rest of the Torchwood Cardiff women are neither discussing the war, running for their lives, shooting aliens (thank God they still have bullets) or dealing other Rift fallout, Amy spends much of the winter of 1916 playing with the differential analyser.
First, she reads Ioan’s reports on it. She does knows all about differential equations, having studied them while she was reading mathematics at the LSE. There are ordinary, partial, delay, stochastic or random and algebraic differential equations, all complicated calculations. In the course of her experiments, Amy realises something. Carrying her reports and the differential analyser, she goes to their physics expert.
“Eleanor, I think we could --" Amy cuts herself off, not quite sure what to say.
“Amy?” Eleanor prompts.
“I think we could monitor and attempt to control the Rift with this analyser, and the equations it can perform, Eleanor. Will you help me with this?”
“Of course I will! What would you like me to do?”
“Thank you.” Amy explains her ideas, and Eleanor listens intently.
***
In the summer of 1916, the long, bloody, muddy, Godforsaken mess that is the Battle of the Somme starts, and takes up much of the second half of the year.
Jack has lost countless men over the last two years, and he himself has somehow managed to not die, even once. His photographer for the initial surveillance of the battlefield area is a new arrival, a Captain Mark Earnshaw. He has a new plane, too, a Farman MF-II. She’s another incredibly ungainly machine, but she’ll do her job.
“How on Earth are the troops going to fight on that, Jack?” Mark asks, as they fly over the battlefield, and he takes pictures that show where the German artillery is stationed. “It’ll easily turn into mud.”
Jack sighs, and doesn’t answer.
***
The RFC hold air supremacy over the Somme battlefield for three months, July to September of 1916. They have ten squadrons and 185 aircraft; Germany only has 129 planes. With more aircraft, along with tethered balloons, Britain can spot more enemy artillery than Germany is able to. But in September, the German Air Service receives new aircraft, and regains supremacy.
And on the ground, tanks are used for the first time.
The RFC lose 782 aircraft and 576 pilots during the battle. British deaths on the first day total over 19,000. Total Allied casualties for the whole battle are nearly 625,000, and of them, more than 146,000 are either killed or missing.
crosspost:
torch_wood
torchwood_fic
torchwoodgenfic
dwfiction
new_who
galactic_conman
john_joan
Continue to Part 12
Teaspoon