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fandomweekly2017-03-05 05:50 pm
m_findlow) wrote in fandomweekly2017-03-05 05:50 pm
Entry tags:
[#035] A MESSAGE TO THE STARS (TORCHWOOD)
Theme Prompt: #035 Dear Diary
Title: A message to the stars
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Ianto fulfills a duty, though it may be final last words.
Captain's log. Twenty eight hundred hours, spacial date two zero six, five nine, zero, zero four.
My name is Ianto Jones. I'm not the ship's captain, but I feel like someone should record these events in case anyone should ever find this. At least then someone will know what happened.
Captain Sartand Beckley died three days ago, as did First Officer Nengent Gart, and twelve other crewmen on the bridge. A further thirty eight crew are also deceased or missing, and we currently have seventeen injured in the infirmary, though only a handful of those might be expected to survive. The names of those crew members have been recorded in the ship's database so that their families might be informed.
I supposed I should go back to the beginning. As I said, my name is Ianto Jones. Five days ago I arrived on board to assist with translation services. Captain Beckley had apprehended a prisoner who had smuggled themselves on board the ship. He didn't speak any of the known languages in this part of the galaxy, so a request was put forth to the Shadow Proclamation for an interpreter to aid in the interrogation. That's me, Ianto Jones, intergalactic language specialist.
Beckley's crew had just finished picking up supplies for their mission, which was to provide food and medical supplies, as well as technical assistance to a distant planet that had just been subjected to a horrendous war. Its people were in need of pretty much everything, and the Midnight Hope was the only ship prepared to make the journey, knowing that there were still enemy vessels dotted along the route, not all of which were happy that the war was over. The intruder that they'd caught on board the ship was one of the dissidents.
Maybe I should have known something was off when he refused to answer any of the questions put to him. He just sat there and looked smug... at least, I thought it was smug. Now I think it was more that he was at peace within himself. He knew what he'd done and that there was no undoing it, but that sacrificing himself would be a massive blow to his enemy.
It was a bomb, or perhaps several bombs. They must have been in one of the hundreds of crates loaded on board. All he had to do was take them out and plant them near the ship's vital systems, set the timer and wait.
I was resting in my quarters when it happened. There was a faint boom, then several louder ones. One must have been just under the bridge. It punctured a hole in the hull, killing everyone up there instantly. We've only just managed repair the breach to get back in here. There were bodies everywhere. It's only now with access to the main console that we can establish just how bad the damage is.
The explosion tore apart our star drive, knocking us well off course. Emergency beacons have been activated, but there's no telling how far off course we've ended up, nor where we actually are. The ship's computer can't pinpoint our position. We're literally lost in space.
The ship's remaining crew are scared, even if they don't show it. Most of them are civilians, aid workers, doctors, scientists, humanitarians. They signed up to help, not to be be the ones needing help. All the ship's supplies were in the cargo dock, which is now smithereens floating out in space. There's some food and supplies in the ship's other storage areas, but it's not enough, even with rationing.
Midshipman Oltos keeps calling me Captain and forcing me to eat, but I can't even stomach the thought of food, especially knowing how little of it there is. I'm no captain either, but for some reason everyone is looking to me to get them through this. Perhaps they think the Shadow Proclamation has some sort of power that will save them all. Me, I'm just an ordinary Earthling. Nothing special about me. The only thing I've ever been in charge of is a coffee machine, and there's not even one of those around here.
The back half of the ship is completely gone and the airlocks are the only thing keeping the rest of the ship together. First Engineer Marcos has reported a slow leak from the locks, meaning that we're gradually losing atmosphere. The locks just weren't designed to hold back the vacuum of space. The scrubbers are still working fine on what residual power is left, but the air will grow too thin in the coming days, leading to hypoxia. Maybe that's a godsend. Better that we all die in our sleep than starving to death. Trying to stay positive, but chances are slim that anyone will receive our signal in time to rescue us.
Jack, if you're hearing this, well, just... don't blame yourself, yeah? It was my idea to join the Shadow Proclamation. With the rift closed, I knew you'd be bored staying on Earth. I wanted to see the galaxy with you before I grew too old and grey to enjoy it... or before I grew too old and grey for you to want to stick around. Working for the Shadow Proclamation seemed like a reasonably safe place for us; travel the universe, meet new people, credits in the bank account, and you - us - together. What more could anyone want?
Danger always seems to follow us, doesn't it? Maybe this is the universe's way of telling us that we just aren't meant to be. I... just wanted to say, you know, in case I don't get another chance... that I love you. I wouldn't change a single thing... well, except maybe having taken on this mission. I still pray that you'll find us and save us. I know you will, so we'll keep fighting to survive. I'm not ready to give up on us yet, the universe be damned.
Captain's log ends, twenty eight fourteen.
Title: A message to the stars
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Ianto fulfills a duty, though it may be final last words.
Captain's log. Twenty eight hundred hours, spacial date two zero six, five nine, zero, zero four.
My name is Ianto Jones. I'm not the ship's captain, but I feel like someone should record these events in case anyone should ever find this. At least then someone will know what happened.
Captain Sartand Beckley died three days ago, as did First Officer Nengent Gart, and twelve other crewmen on the bridge. A further thirty eight crew are also deceased or missing, and we currently have seventeen injured in the infirmary, though only a handful of those might be expected to survive. The names of those crew members have been recorded in the ship's database so that their families might be informed.
I supposed I should go back to the beginning. As I said, my name is Ianto Jones. Five days ago I arrived on board to assist with translation services. Captain Beckley had apprehended a prisoner who had smuggled themselves on board the ship. He didn't speak any of the known languages in this part of the galaxy, so a request was put forth to the Shadow Proclamation for an interpreter to aid in the interrogation. That's me, Ianto Jones, intergalactic language specialist.
Beckley's crew had just finished picking up supplies for their mission, which was to provide food and medical supplies, as well as technical assistance to a distant planet that had just been subjected to a horrendous war. Its people were in need of pretty much everything, and the Midnight Hope was the only ship prepared to make the journey, knowing that there were still enemy vessels dotted along the route, not all of which were happy that the war was over. The intruder that they'd caught on board the ship was one of the dissidents.
Maybe I should have known something was off when he refused to answer any of the questions put to him. He just sat there and looked smug... at least, I thought it was smug. Now I think it was more that he was at peace within himself. He knew what he'd done and that there was no undoing it, but that sacrificing himself would be a massive blow to his enemy.
It was a bomb, or perhaps several bombs. They must have been in one of the hundreds of crates loaded on board. All he had to do was take them out and plant them near the ship's vital systems, set the timer and wait.
I was resting in my quarters when it happened. There was a faint boom, then several louder ones. One must have been just under the bridge. It punctured a hole in the hull, killing everyone up there instantly. We've only just managed repair the breach to get back in here. There were bodies everywhere. It's only now with access to the main console that we can establish just how bad the damage is.
The explosion tore apart our star drive, knocking us well off course. Emergency beacons have been activated, but there's no telling how far off course we've ended up, nor where we actually are. The ship's computer can't pinpoint our position. We're literally lost in space.
The ship's remaining crew are scared, even if they don't show it. Most of them are civilians, aid workers, doctors, scientists, humanitarians. They signed up to help, not to be be the ones needing help. All the ship's supplies were in the cargo dock, which is now smithereens floating out in space. There's some food and supplies in the ship's other storage areas, but it's not enough, even with rationing.
Midshipman Oltos keeps calling me Captain and forcing me to eat, but I can't even stomach the thought of food, especially knowing how little of it there is. I'm no captain either, but for some reason everyone is looking to me to get them through this. Perhaps they think the Shadow Proclamation has some sort of power that will save them all. Me, I'm just an ordinary Earthling. Nothing special about me. The only thing I've ever been in charge of is a coffee machine, and there's not even one of those around here.
The back half of the ship is completely gone and the airlocks are the only thing keeping the rest of the ship together. First Engineer Marcos has reported a slow leak from the locks, meaning that we're gradually losing atmosphere. The locks just weren't designed to hold back the vacuum of space. The scrubbers are still working fine on what residual power is left, but the air will grow too thin in the coming days, leading to hypoxia. Maybe that's a godsend. Better that we all die in our sleep than starving to death. Trying to stay positive, but chances are slim that anyone will receive our signal in time to rescue us.
Jack, if you're hearing this, well, just... don't blame yourself, yeah? It was my idea to join the Shadow Proclamation. With the rift closed, I knew you'd be bored staying on Earth. I wanted to see the galaxy with you before I grew too old and grey to enjoy it... or before I grew too old and grey for you to want to stick around. Working for the Shadow Proclamation seemed like a reasonably safe place for us; travel the universe, meet new people, credits in the bank account, and you - us - together. What more could anyone want?
Danger always seems to follow us, doesn't it? Maybe this is the universe's way of telling us that we just aren't meant to be. I... just wanted to say, you know, in case I don't get another chance... that I love you. I wouldn't change a single thing... well, except maybe having taken on this mission. I still pray that you'll find us and save us. I know you will, so we'll keep fighting to survive. I'm not ready to give up on us yet, the universe be damned.
Captain's log ends, twenty eight fourteen.
no subject
Jack WILL save them, won't he? Please tell me he does and that Ianto will live to carry out other important missions... *wibbles*