"Who are you?"
"Captain Jack Harkness"
Well that's the thing, I don't know who I am, not exactly. It's been too long and if I did, something's are best kept out of the picture. The real Jack Harkness was a young and very /hot/ American Volunteer Group Captain serving in the Famous 133 Eagle Squadron. He died during a routine training excise in Cardiff, where he and his men, were taken by surprise by two formations of Messerschmitt. His plane had caught fire and got brought down; his men heard his screams over the radio and couldn't do anything for him. His body went missing, failing to report for duty the next day, presumed dead – no records. I took them, along with his identity. I start by introducing this man because, even though he doesn't know it, from the moment I took his name, he changed my life and I just hope wherever he is, I do him proud.
Real Jack Harkness - 1941, Kiss The Boys Goodbye - day before he died.
Raise your glasses
Toast: Captain Jack Harkness
Killed in Action: 21st January 1941.
Let me re-wind or fast-forward, however way you look at it, to the fifty first century, where it all started. I was born and raised from a place called Boeshane Peninsula, one of Earth's colony worlds. It was a total different place growing up, but for me it's what I call home and never knew anything else. I always say the twenty first century is when everything changes; I said the same thing about the twentieth and again in the nineteenth and also the eighteenth, but it's not until the fifty first people start living a little. I grew up in an environment where sex wasn't an issue, any gender, any species. Mankind finally found their feet, expanding towards the skies and taking a giant leap towards the stars, space, the universe and time travel. So many species, so little time. Answer me this, what else are you expected to do? Neil Armstrong eat your heart out, actually don't, too hidden myth with Mary, I always got a little worried when Greeks start Bearing Gifts.
Boeshane Peninsula was a sandy area, beaches that stretch for miles and blue sea as far as the horizon. It was a truly beautiful place, a real breath of fresh air and a pleasure to be part of, but it could turn incredibly boring in a blink of an eye. I was the adventurous type, something never changes, but the mischief and pulling pranks that I was well known for in the area didn't always go according to plan. I could be very persuasive at times, get what I want if you know what I mean. It was a small community, just a few hundred of us, most often than not, I would be found playing catch or cricket with my brother Gray down on one of the beaches. My Dad would join in when he had time and we would often play, way into the night. When the evening came, it was straight back home to watch the sun set around a campfire with Mum and sing a song or two. Mum and Dad were good people, and my brother didn't always hate me. You might think to yourself, if it was such an awesome place then why don't I talk about it more? Why should I? I don't like talking about my past, never have, never will, because yes, some of the things I've done, I'm ashamed to admit, but we have all made mistakes. I have only decided to write this because I'm –god forbid me to say- getting old and I want to get things down on paper just in case my memory fails. These are my memories, not yours and not all of them were this good either, as you'll find out.
From an early age, as far back as I can remember the people of the Peninsula, including my family were always living in fear of war and invasion from The Worst Creatures Imaginable. Yes capital letters, my alias for them. Take your deepest fear, your worst nightmare and your arch enemy all rolled into one and triple it. Now I might be over exaggerating that, just the tiniest bit, considering the things I've been up against since, but I was only a small boy back then, when they attacked remember? They were like the monster at the bottom of my bed and you never knew when they would strike. It was kinda similar to 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf' towards the end and we all know what happens to the boy when eventually The Big Bad Wolf comes, nobody listens, right? Well, we had gotten fed up of the calls, the constant threats lingering, always getting ready for battle when we got the word and nothing came off it. So one day, we ignore them and they hit. They hit us hard, we hadn't been ready, I wouldn't want anyone to go through, what I went through that day.
My Father told me to take Gray and run, while he went and fought. What did I do? Act stubborn, loose precious time by protesting that I wanted to go with my Father too. We had been trained all our lives for this day, I wasn't going to sit back and do nothing, but my Father wouldn't have any of it, so in the end I gave in… took Gray's hand… and ran… I ran for my life, I ran for my brother's life, just ran, so fast, never looking back, daring not to look. I dug in scared, burrowed myself into a base of a tree and waited for the creatures to pass over. I thought my brother was behind me. It could only have been minutes or hours but to me, it felt like eternity before the creatures left. I ran all the way back home, through a blood bath of bodies, with no sign of Gray. Deep down, I was hoping he'd find his way back eventually. At the foot of our home, I found my Father, covered in blood, lying still on the floor, my Mother- devastated. Do I blame myself? Of course I blame myself, not for the creatures hitting, for what happened to Gray. I had been responsible for my brother that day, I should have done more and I let go of his hand. This was the day my idyllic teen childhood got shattered to pieces and as remained and always will remain The Worse Day of my Life. Now do you understand why I don't talk about it?
They started to recruit more people to join up to fight against 'The Worse Creatures Imaginable', fearing another attack - so me being me, I persuaded my best friend to join up with me, for a bit of an adventure and I got more then I bargained for. I went to war shortly after that with my friend and we both got caught crossing enemy boarder lines which resulted in, my best friend getting tortured and killed right before my eyes because he was weaker then I was. They let me go, just like that. It was horrible.
Things became clearer in my head after that, I had to find Gray, no - I needed to find Gray, hoping he would be alive when I got there. Wherever there was. My brother's disappearance was a turning point in my life, everything I did in the next few years was spent looking for him, believe it or not. I became the first one ever to receive a Vortex Manipulator from the Time Agency to widen my search for him. Besides, becoming a Time Agent was a must at the time, going on mission generally kicking ass across the universe. I just had to try it. I became a poster boy for them later. Just imagine the words /mine is bigger than yours/ the thumbs up and wink, wink, you can trust me on this, sort of thing going on. (Sorry Pete Tyler!) This advertising automatically prompted me to enter the Rear of the Year and 5094 was my year.
Face of Boe, is what people called me, they were all so proud.