Ficlet: No Choice
Oct. 6th, 2025 06:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
badly_knittedTitle: No Choice
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Jack, Ianto, Team, Alien.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 769
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: The Torchwood team only kill when there’s no other choice, and this is one of those occasions.
Written For: doreyg’s prompt ‘Any, any, And it wasn't a fair fight / Or a clean Kill’, at
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threesentenceficathon.Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
Jack had taken pains, after the leadership of Torchwood Three had been passed to him, to ensure that the Cardiff branch was nothing like Torchwood One in London, with their callous disregard of alien rights and their insistence that ‘if it’s alien, it’s ours’. He’d wanted to build something the Doctor would approve of; an organisation that upheld the rights of all sentient beings, not just humans, and he’d made sure everyone he recruited understood his rules, and the reasoning behind them.
That didn’t mean he thought aliens were always right, or that their rights were more important than those of humans; everything had to be taken on a case-by-case basis since not all aliens were friendly or trustworthy. They weren’t all sentient either, Torchwood got a fair number of animals falling through the Rift, but even then, most were fairly harmless, so the rules were to do no harm unless it was unavoidable, or to save innocent lives.
Killing was always to be a last resort, because everything had a right to live, even non-sentient species that wound up in Cardiff through no fault of their own. But, as always, there were exceptions to every rule. Daleks and Cybermen, for instance, were to be eliminated on sight, with extreme prejudice, assuming an effective weapon was available, which wasn’t always the case.
There were other alien creatures that were equally dangerous in their own way, and tonight Jack had the misfortune of running into one of the most lethal killing machines in the known universe, something that could not be allowed to roam free due to the threat it posed to every living creature in the city.
What had resulted hadn’t been a fair fight, not even close, because what chance did ANY unarmed man have against a beast like that, even an ex-Time Agent who couldn’t stay dead? And Jack had essentially been unarmed, because his Webley was completely useless against the Bozog. The creature’s hide was so thick that armour piercing rounds were the only thing that could penetrate through the coarse hair, the leathery skin, and layers of dense muscle to reach the organs within and, with luck, cause enough damage to bring the creature down.
Jack had shot at it, of course he had, because immortal though he might be, he wasn’t the kind of man to give up without a fight, no matter how pointless it was, and at least if the Bozog’s attention was fixed on him, it wouldn’t go after anyone more vulnerable, someone who couldn’t survive being killed. So he’d emptied his gun at it, and as expected, the bullets hadn’t had any effect whatsoever; the Bozog hadn’t even slowed down, just powered towards Jack, taken one mighty leap, and…
It hadn’t been a clean kill either. One slash of the savage, razor-sharp claws had ripped Jack open, but it hadn’t killed him, not right away. He’d gone down hard, in agony, clutching helplessly at his wounds as the Bozog had stood over him, howling its victory, making everyone who heard it shudder and glance apprehensively towards the nearest window or door, perhaps subconsciously understanding how little protection their homes provided from whatever could make a sound like that.
And Jack had died, after several long minutes, as the Bozog sniffed the air, taking in the unfamiliar scents of this place that wasn’t its homeworld. It was wary now, not yet ready to let down its guard enough to eat, and the sirens and flashing lights of approaching police cars had been enough to drive it off, if only for a short while.
That had at least meant Ianto had been able to go to his lover, cradle Jack in his arms as the rest of the team got into position… Because the Bozog wouldn’t stay away for long, and it wouldn’t continue hunting just yet. It had made a kill, the scent of blood was in the air, thick enough for the Bozog to taste; it would inevitably return to feed, and when it did… Ianto and the others would be ready, waiting for it, armed not with their usual weapons, but with hi-power automatics that had the stopping power necessary to take a Bozog down.
And they would kill it more mercifully than it had killed Jack, because they weren’t monsters, and although the alien had to die, being far too dangerous for any other option to be considered, it didn’t need to suffer. All it was doing was following its own instincts, ensuring its own survival, but then, that was what the Torchwood team were doing as well.
The End
That didn’t mean he thought aliens were always right, or that their rights were more important than those of humans; everything had to be taken on a case-by-case basis since not all aliens were friendly or trustworthy. They weren’t all sentient either, Torchwood got a fair number of animals falling through the Rift, but even then, most were fairly harmless, so the rules were to do no harm unless it was unavoidable, or to save innocent lives.
Killing was always to be a last resort, because everything had a right to live, even non-sentient species that wound up in Cardiff through no fault of their own. But, as always, there were exceptions to every rule. Daleks and Cybermen, for instance, were to be eliminated on sight, with extreme prejudice, assuming an effective weapon was available, which wasn’t always the case.
There were other alien creatures that were equally dangerous in their own way, and tonight Jack had the misfortune of running into one of the most lethal killing machines in the known universe, something that could not be allowed to roam free due to the threat it posed to every living creature in the city.
What had resulted hadn’t been a fair fight, not even close, because what chance did ANY unarmed man have against a beast like that, even an ex-Time Agent who couldn’t stay dead? And Jack had essentially been unarmed, because his Webley was completely useless against the Bozog. The creature’s hide was so thick that armour piercing rounds were the only thing that could penetrate through the coarse hair, the leathery skin, and layers of dense muscle to reach the organs within and, with luck, cause enough damage to bring the creature down.
Jack had shot at it, of course he had, because immortal though he might be, he wasn’t the kind of man to give up without a fight, no matter how pointless it was, and at least if the Bozog’s attention was fixed on him, it wouldn’t go after anyone more vulnerable, someone who couldn’t survive being killed. So he’d emptied his gun at it, and as expected, the bullets hadn’t had any effect whatsoever; the Bozog hadn’t even slowed down, just powered towards Jack, taken one mighty leap, and…
It hadn’t been a clean kill either. One slash of the savage, razor-sharp claws had ripped Jack open, but it hadn’t killed him, not right away. He’d gone down hard, in agony, clutching helplessly at his wounds as the Bozog had stood over him, howling its victory, making everyone who heard it shudder and glance apprehensively towards the nearest window or door, perhaps subconsciously understanding how little protection their homes provided from whatever could make a sound like that.
And Jack had died, after several long minutes, as the Bozog sniffed the air, taking in the unfamiliar scents of this place that wasn’t its homeworld. It was wary now, not yet ready to let down its guard enough to eat, and the sirens and flashing lights of approaching police cars had been enough to drive it off, if only for a short while.
That had at least meant Ianto had been able to go to his lover, cradle Jack in his arms as the rest of the team got into position… Because the Bozog wouldn’t stay away for long, and it wouldn’t continue hunting just yet. It had made a kill, the scent of blood was in the air, thick enough for the Bozog to taste; it would inevitably return to feed, and when it did… Ianto and the others would be ready, waiting for it, armed not with their usual weapons, but with hi-power automatics that had the stopping power necessary to take a Bozog down.
And they would kill it more mercifully than it had killed Jack, because they weren’t monsters, and although the alien had to die, being far too dangerous for any other option to be considered, it didn’t need to suffer. All it was doing was following its own instincts, ensuring its own survival, but then, that was what the Torchwood team were doing as well.
The End
(no subject)
Date: 2025-10-06 10:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2025-10-06 10:25 pm (UTC)Thank you!