"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.
I like that! It's overdue to have a Captain Jack diary, telling us about all those years and events we never saw in TW or DW! Can't wait for the next episode of that. :)
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