"It doesn't look that different," Kitty commented as the two teams stood surveying the clearing around the Stargate.
"Convergent evolution," Carter supplied. "Most planets capable of supporting our kind of life look pretty similar."
"We don't have time to see the sights, let's move," Jack ordered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Evans and the rest were following. "Where's Logan?"
Carter and Teal'c looked around, startled by the sudden disappearance of one of their group. The three remaining X-Men were calm, however.
"Relax," Kitty said. "He's probably out scouting. If he runs into anything he can't handle, Logan'll just lead it back to us."
"He is quite skilled," Teal'c commented. "I did not notice his leaving."
"Ya think?" Jack replied, sarcastically, to which Teal'c merely raised an eyebrow.
When they reached the tree-line, Kurt waved and grinned. "Und this is where I leave you," he said, before leaping for a low branch some twenty feet above their heads and scrambling easily into the canopy.
"Cheater," Kitty said, under her breath.
SG-1 exchanged glances, and then they continued along the path Evans had indicated his team had taken.
"Does Logan disappear like that frequently?" Daniel asked, curiously.
Kitty shrugged. "He's not much of a team player, really. Too many years as a soldier or alone or something."
"He's military?"
Kitty shot him a look that would melt a stone. "Not anymore."
Jack dropped back from where he had been taking point with Teal'c to where Daniel and Kitty were talking. Peter was walking nearby, but he was more like a moving statue than a human being, with how quiet he had been.
"Whatcha talkin' 'bout, kids?" Jack asked, grinning.
"I was just curious about…" Daniel began, but Kitty broke him off, saying a single word. "Logan."
"Ah, right," Daniel said, nodding. "How did you two meet, anyways?"
Jack gave Daniel a look. "Classified."
"C'mon, Jack, it can't be that important," his friend wheedled.
"Why don't you ask him?"
"I did. He says he doesn't remember."
"He probably doesn't," Kitty said, shrugging. "Logan doesn't really care to think about his past, let alone talk about it."
Jack left them to walk in silence, and a couple hours later called a halt for food and a little rest. The site looked like it had been used recently, and Evans confirmed that SG-7 had stopped there as well.
"Since you kids won't leave me alone, I'll tell ya," Jack said, checking that everyone was there. Anyone who knew him would see he didn't want to be talking about this subject, but he didn't see a way around it, either.
"He never gave me his name, the last time," Jack said, looking down into the MRE he was eating. "I'd lost my wingman coming back from a fly-over during Desert Storm. We had a low ceiling due to the oil fires, but everything was going fine until I lost the Warthog's other wing. Your buddy Logan there pulled me out and carried me to help, and damn near killed us both doing it."
The last sentence was said to Kitty, and when she met Jack's hollow gaze, she wondered how much more there was to the story. She knew she'd never get to hear it.
Flashback: 1991, Kuwait
A single A-10 flew over the man's head, a plume of smoke blending with the dark columns of the oil fires he was fighting. It didn't take much to know that man was going down fast, but there wasn't anything he could do. He was here for the fires, not the soldiers. But he couldn't turn his back on a human in need.
"Mayday, mayday, I'm going down," Jack shouted into his radio. He was too low already to punch the ejection button, because the parachute couldn't fully deploy before he'd be splattered on the desert rocks below him. His only chance was to ride his plane down, and hope he'd be able to crawl free from the crash. He looked down to see the picture he taped to the instrument panel of his wife and son, and closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm coming home, Charlie," he told the picture. "I promised."
The man ran towards the downed airplane with little regard for his surroundings. Leaping over rocks, and dodging around scrub, he approached the crash, hoping that the pilot was still alive. The scents of blood and burning oil filled his nostrils as he approached what was left of the cockpit, and movement caught his eye.
All Jack could think about was pain. He had to be alive, because there was no way being dead could hurt so much. The only question was how much longer would he be alive. He tried to move, to remove the harness strapping him firmly into his seat, but his hands weren't cooperating. Then he saw a shadow cross over his line of vision, and he heard the sound of rending metal before blackness consumed the world.