Ianto had quickly come to relish his role as Desmond Llewellyn, interstellar man of mystery, so much so that he’d even referred to himself as such when talking to some of his more trusted associates among the scoundrels and rogues he did occasional business with. It wasn’t taken seriously, was more of an in-joke than anything, but he enjoyed his ‘title’ nonetheless. Made him feel rather like a space travelling version of James Bond. Ianto Jones, double-o whatever.

Des was, of course, semi-fictional, in that he was Ianto by another name, the persona Ianto used when involved in activities of questionable legality. The air of mystery surrounding Des suited his purposes, it had aided him both in his search for Jack and in his self-imposed task of finding and helping those in need. If it meant he had to take on a few jobs with a certain degree of criminality attached to them in order to build the right kind of reputation among characters like Burl Three-toes, then that was a price he was willing to pay, although there were some jobs, such as assassinations, that he wouldn’t touch. He’d kill in defence of others, if it was absolutely unavoidable, but since he travelled by TARDIS, in most cases such situations were easily avoided.

His TARDIS made it easy for Des to appear and disappear at will, wherever and whenever he chose to, although he and his sentient time- and spaceship were still being cautious when it came to travelling in time. Even though Jack had ample experience for all three of them, Ianto and the TARDIS considered themselves novices in that area, and preferred not to take too many chances, at least not until they had a better understanding of the problems they might encounter, so for the time being they were still sticking to linear time, with only the occasional carefully researched jaunt into the past or the future.

One thing they had been able to do, however, long before Jack and Ianto were reunited, was set up a means by which Burl, and a select few other trustworthy individuals, could quickly and easily contact Des with information and job offers. A sort of electronic mailbox that the TARDIS could access from wherever she happened to be in time or space. Such messages were infrequent, but one had popped up from Burl a few hours ago, indicating that he had a job that might interest Des, and requesting a meet to discuss the proposition.

Burl ran a small network of criminals and was a mine of useful information on all kinds of things that might, potentially, prove useful to Des. He was surprisingly honest and aboveboard for a career criminal, taking the concept of honour among thieves seriously, in his own jovial fashion. He protected those he considered his friends, and he’d taken an almost immediate liking to Des when they’d first met. Subsequent meetings had only strengthened his admiration and respect for the human, so that by this point he was serving almost as an intermediary between Des and potential employers. It was a profitable arrangement for both of them, since Ianto passed a great deal of useful information to Burl in return for his services as middleman, as well as a generous cut of any profits.

On hearing the message, Ianto had replied, setting a time and place, and had made sure to arrive before his friend did, keeping out of sight until the time was right. Now, dressed as Des, he stepped out of the shadows, startling the people, Burl included, who had arrived at the deserted, seedy warehouse at the edge of a rundown spaceport some ten minutes earlier. The TARDIS had been monitoring them carefully as the approached, making sure they weren’t followed, and that there were no listening or recording devices, either on them or in the vicinity. She could have jammed them, if necessary; Ianto carried a portable jamming device that she could activate remotely, but in this instance, it wasn’t needed.

Recognising Des, Burl immediately relaxed, although the two people with him still looked nervous, standing close together, the woman clutching the man’s arm.

“Here he is, the man hisself,” Burl greeted, grinning. “Me old mate, the interstellar man o’ mystery!”

“Not so much of the old, if you don’t mind. You’ve got a good few years on me, my friend.”

Burl laughed his booming laugh. “Reckon I do at that.” He shook his head, a gesture he’d picked up from Ianto, and studied ‘Des’. “Always so mysterious with yer comin’s and goin’s, ya just show up right outta the black, even when I know fer a fact no ships’ve touched down here aside from me own in more’n a month. Are yer ever goin’ to tell me how ya does it?”

An enigmatic smile curved Ianto’s lips. “Maybe I’ve got a cloaked ship, or maybe I’ve always been right here, just waiting for you.” He shrugged. “Or maybe I simply prefer to keep my secrets to myself. Life’s a lot safer that way. You don’t exactly advertise your presence anywhere either. At least, not intentionally.”

That drew another good-natured laugh from Burl. “Yer right ‘bout that! Always best ter keep a low profile, folks like us. Too much attention don’t do us no good at all. Good ta see yer.”

“And you. It’s been a while; I was starting to think you’d maybe got yourself caught.”

“Like that’s ever happenin’. I din’t live this long by bein’ careless. Not bin much goin’ on that would innerest a man like yourself. Slim pickin’s, easy targets, routine stuff, ‘til this li’l job dropped inter me lap. Thought of yer right away, I did. Said to meself, this un’s got me good mate’s name written all over it, I’ll give ‘im a call, see what ‘e says. And here y’are.”

“Here I am. So, you going to tell me what this is all about, or do we just keep chatting all night?”

“Right ter business, one o’ the things I likes ‘bout yer.” He gestured to the two other people in the warehouse, Ferrumians, if Ianto wasn’t mistaken. “This ‘ere is Ildevar, an old buddy o’ mine from Ferruma, an’ ‘is brother’s mate, Helgrovid. They got big troubles. You tell ‘im now, Ilde.”

Ildevar nodded. “I have a brother, the eldest in our family, Helgrovid’s mate. He is a good man, works as an independent trader, travels all over, does a lot of trading in the Ruginian Sector, always had a good reputation. The Ruginians are… decent enough people, but the government is very strict. Androvar, my brother, has always obeyed their rules, never been in any kind of trouble, and now the family has been informed that he’s been found guilty of murdering a Ruginian woman.”

Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Murder tends to be frowned upon in most civilised societies.”

“Yes, of course, but Androvar didn not kill anyone. Before he was arrested, he got a message through to Helgrovid, that he’d found a woman who’d been attacked, and had tried to help her, but she died of her injuries.”

“And you believe him.”

“He had no reason to lie, he did not believe he had done anything wrong. Now he has been accused of the crime because there were no witnesses, and he was the only one other than the victim who can be positively placed at the scene. There has been no trial, it was not considered necessary since my brother is an outsider. We tried to intercede, but no one will listen to us.”

“So he’s been arrested for a crime he didn’t commit…” Ianto looked thoughtful. “Is he in jail?”

“After a fashion. His ship and all other assets sold off to provide for the victim’s family, while he has been sentenced to a life of slavery on a work gang. It is a death sentence. Even Ruginians do not survive for long in the work gangs. They are forced to labour, day after day, with little food or rest, until they can no longer stand, then they are fed to the tracker beasts. All we want is to spare Androvar such a fate, bring him home to his family.”

“Rugin’s World…” Burl shook his head. “It’s a harsh place these days. Used ta be quiet, peaceable, but not now. Goin’ in there ta rescue a convicted criminal… Would take a special kind o’ clever. Why I thought o’ yer.”

“I find this a very interesting proposition. I’ll see what I can do.” Ianto bowed slightly to the two Ferrumians, then punched Burl in the shoulder. “You owe me a few drinks next time we meet. Or maybe I’ll owe you. Who knows?”

“Yer takin’ the job then?”

“Already working on it,” Ianto assured him. “I’ll be in touch.” He nodded again to his employers. “You might want to start planning a welcome home celebration.”

“But… we have not discussed payment yet!”

“Oh, I’m sure I can pick up a few odds and ends while I’m on Rugin’s World to make the trip worth my while. Don’t worry about it.” With that, Ianto faded back into the shadows. Places to go, lives to save…

Ser Androvar didn’t know it yet, but he was about to be rescued.


The End