Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. I make no profit from this story, whose characters are owned by MGM and Matthew Reilly.
A/N: Assumes knowledge of Ice Station, 7 Ancient Wonders and the Stargate universe, but could be read alone. A companion fic to a massive crossover chapter fic I'm writing centred on Jack West Jr., Stargate: Atlantis but featuring SG-1 and CrAzY shenanigans. Testing the waters for an audience... so please review.
***
It was the mission of a lifetime. A new galaxy, an Ancient city, the Legend. Atlantis.
The Earth ship Titan hummed through hyperspace, bringing the newest contingent of soldiers to Atlantis. Onboard, in the mess, the soldiers were crowding around a table, cheering and laughing.
Some of the new marines were taking turns at arm wrestling an older, retired SAS soldier. That's what he told them, anyway. They assumed he was there for scientific/military liaison, or detailing a report, and he didn't bother to correct them. Time after time, he beat the challenging young men and women with his left hand. Even when money was involved, they lost.
One marine, a Major, stood apart from the amusement, watching. He was wearing silver anti-flash sunglasses, even on the dimly lit ship. His face was unreadable. He was watching the ex SAS man - he noted that he had dark hair and dark narrowed eyes, was dressed all in black, his entire body covered except for his head and neck. And he never took the money he won from them, he noticed.
Finally he spoke. As this was a rare event, most people fell silent and turned to listen.
"I think you're being unfair. You're left handed, and these guys are all right handed." He said.
"Oh, I'm going easy on them." The older man replied, looking at him. The surrounding marines scoffed. He found a pen, wrote his name on a sheet of paper. "See?" He explained. "Right hand." He wrote his name in perfect script. "Left hand." He scrawled clumsily "Jack West" and showed it to the man with the sunglasses.
Shane Schofield zeroed in on the man's name. He cocked his head, thinking. "I'll bet $100 on winning, if you use your right hand."
The marines looked at him like he was crazy. They still hadn't noticed Jack simply handed the money back with each win, but stood aside so he could take the seat opposite Jack, who looked amused, though wasn't smiling. Schofield sensed that this was rare, but still he really took to the man.
"Let's see it" Jack said.
Schofield placed two worn $50 US notes on the table.
"Not your preferred currency, but where we're headed..." he said as he did so.
Jack's eyes narrowed further then he leaned forward, right hand out. This is a sharp one, he thought.
***
"Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!" The marines chanted as their officer, Schofield and Jack struggled for what seemed like ages, neither one getting the upper hand. Until, Jack seemed to tire, and Schofield slowly lowered his opponents' right hand to the table. The audience went nuts.
"Before you get angry about your own loses, look in your pockets" Jack said to the surrounding people, before handing over $100 Australian to Shane, as well as his crumpled $US. "Inflation wasn't specified," Jack explained to him.
"Show it!" Schofield said, smiling.
"Ah. My big secret." Jack pulled up his left sleeve, revealing metal. Then, he removed his glove, flexing his metal fingers and watching his artificial knuckles work.
Some of the marines looked a little stunned, but most just laughed. After all, the trick caused no-one harm. Then he held out his hand, for Shane to shake. Shane took it in his left, and felt the cold, answering pressure. It was very strange.
Then Jack stood up and the marines realised the fun was over, moved off.
Shane remained seated, and Jack sat back down. They were alone now. Reaching for a nearby MRE, Jack looked at his new companion.
"You know who I am?" he asked.
"I guessed. A friend of mine told me about you- but what you're doing here... I'm not so sure."
"I could say the same of you." Jack answered, unwrapping his power bar. Shane cocked his head again, as if to say, go on. Jack guessed that in the absence of expression of the eyes, Shane relied on his head.
"A friend of mine told me about you, Scarecrow." The ball was back in his court now.
Shane lowered his glasses a fraction, showing hideous vertical scars and sad blue eyes, confirming the rumours. Jack looked at him gravely, levelly, knowing what an honour it was to be shown. Shane put them back on, and spoke.
"This friend's name was John Sheppard, Huntsman." Jack nodded, and replied,
"Ah. Good pilot. Mad Johnny Cash fan. A mutual friend." Shane smiled again.
"That's how I heard of you. But why are you here?" Jack asked.
"I'm replacing him." He said simply. Jack looked mildly surprised. "The new military commander of Atlantis? Congratulations."
"To him, too, on his retirement to be with his family." Shane said. Jack nodded again. "So why are you here?" Shane asked.
"Family business." Jack replied, and for the first time, he smiled back.