The Goa'uld are known for two things; wealth, and power. Their ostentatious motherships, with state of the art technology and golden décor, nicely demonstrate this. One such ship was suffering an unusual case of infestation. They had come together, and since split up. On one level, a snake slithered undetected through the corridors, poisoning the guards of the ship with tranquillizing venom. On another, a spider descended from the ceilings to beat Jaffa into submission in a flurry of limbs. And on a third, an internet reviewer waved around a huge, impractical gunblade, breaking not only bones, but also this metaphor.

"Goddamn it," swore Spoony to himself. "I really need to find something better to use." He pulled a small, serpentine weapon from the chainmail worn by one Jaffa. He fired it at one of the still conscious humanoid aliens. Blue electricity exited the serpent's mouth, and his target fell unconscious. Spoony shot the same one experimentally, and he died.

"That's more like it!" Spoony considered also stealing some armour, since all he had to protect himself was a sassy t-shirt. He decided against it, knowing that stripping the clothes off a dead body would be much more of a hassle than RPGs made it look. He stood up and turned on his radio. "How we doing?"

"Pretty good, Spoony One!" said Spiderman into his. "I didn't think I'd be so good at stealth in such a magnificent shade of bright red, but I'm doing pretty well!"

"What you wear on the battlefield is no laughing matter," growled Snake into his Codec, selecting a grenade from one of the pouches on his person. His mouth was drawn tightly under his rough stubble.

"Says the man wearing an eyepatch for no apparent reason," retorted Spiderman.

Spoony pushed some of his long brown hair out of his face. "Focus, people! We have to find this Scar guy."

"Right, right. I'm heading towards the bridge of this ship now..." said Spiderman. "You think it's the same Scar from the Lion King?"

Spoony rolled his eyes. "Don't be fucking stupid. We're on a spaceship. How is a lion without thumbs supposed to operate advanced controls?"

"Hey, it could be," said Spiderman defensively. "What do you think, Snake?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," responded Snake coolly, tranquillizing another Jaffa with his dart gun.

Spiderman gaped at his radio through his mask. "You've never seen the Lion King?!"

"I don't watch movies."

"Wow, dude, how old are you? No, don't answer that. No age is an excuse."

"Spiderman, you're on an alien spaceship fighting alongside two people from different dimensions," Spoony pointed out. "Can we move past Snake not watching the Lion King?"

"Yeah, but this kinda thing happens to me all the time. But never watching the Lion King? That's inconceivable!"

"You keep using that word," said Snake. "I do not think it means what you think it means."

"And you said you don't watch movies..."

##

In the bridge of the mothership, a gaunt, melanistic lion looked down at the control panel in front of him. It was comprised of white, oval crystals on a black board. He moved a paw tentatively forward and pushed one crystal into a space marked for it.

Behind the black-maned lion, a series of thick rings descended from the ceiling. They lit the space inside them with bright white light, and then re-entered the ceiling as quickly as they had come.

"And you say I can configure these to move objects anywhere above or below that space?" he asked of the Jaffa standing beside his large chair. His voice was deep, smooth, and dripping with malice.

"Yes, my lord."

Scar's deep green eyes sparkled with interest. He raised a thin black eyebrow, stretching the thin pink wound which had given him his moniker. "Fascinating. You'll forgive me if I'm a slow learner. The most advanced piece of weaponry in my homeland is a stick."

"Nonsense, my lord. You are most adept at this," said the Jaffa, partly because Scar was indeed proving a quick study, but mostly because constant praise is required of Jaffa.

"How nice to have minions who see me for the wonder I am," sighed Scar contentedly, who was completely unaware of this fact.


Clank had proved popular among Ratchet's new colleagues. Zeke was amazed that such a small robot could be so effective and intelligent, and the Engineer had been charmed by Clank's polite nature.

"So, you going to give us a hand down here?" asked Ratchet.

"As a matter of fact, I had a different idea," said Clank. "Your progress on these systems has been most admirable, but without a Scientific liaison working on the bridge..."

"It'd be a lot slower getting the whole ship back online," finished Ratchet. "So you're thinking of being that guy."

"Precisely." Clank looked concerned. "Do you mind?"

"Well, I admit I'd like to have you a little closer," said Ratchet, "but it should be fine."

"It's not that big a deal," added Zeke. "I still see Cole plenty, even though I spend a lot of time down here."

"Exactly," nodded Ratchet. "And besides," he grinned to Clank, "when things eventually start exploding – and they will – I'll meet up with you."

Clank returned his smile. "I'll hold you to that."


Spiderman entered the spaceship's bridge, the door closing tightly behind him. His Spider-sense was tingling like a wind chime in a hurricane, so he exercised extreme caution.

Inside were four or so Jaffa, who all had their staff weapons pointed at the wall-crawler. However, none dared to actually attack, knowing how a fight was likely to end, so pointing was all they did. Seeing this, Spiderman relaxed somewhat, putting their measly weapons down as being the source of his anxiety.

Then again, the source was just as likely to be the figure sitting in the large chair at the centre of the room. He was faced away from Spiderman, and partially obscured by the back of the chair, but the occupant was unmistakeably leonine.

Spiderman's eyes widened under his mask. "So you are Lion KingScar?" He cracked his knuckles. "In that case, I hereby dedicate this beating to every moviegoer you've ever made cry… and I don't mind admitting that that includes me."

Scar didn't understand what Spiderman was saying, and elected to ignore it. However, the part about the beating was undeniably clear. He was quickly catching on to the controls of the ship, but he knew he needed more time. Knowing he couldn't face the superhero in a physical fight, Scar fell back on his strength; manipulation.

"Well, I'd hardly imagine it was the first time you cried," he replied smoothly. He didn't turn to face Spiderman, but could see his opponent from the corner of his eye. "I mean, you strike me as a man who has gone through a lot of loss."

This was a gamble. Any TV physic will tell you that everyone has lost at least one loved one at some point, but Scar half expected Spiderman to brush the words aside and charge at him anyway. However, the slight tenseness he saw in Spiderman, and the pause before his reply, indicated to Scar that he was on to something.

"Hah! This isn't going to work, buddy," scoffed Spiderman, just a second too late for it to be genuine. "I've been dealing with guys like you my whole career, and they all try to psychoanalyse me to get an upper hand."

"And have you never questioned why that is?" asked Scar. In the field of manipulation, it was always best to work with what the subject gave you. "Why every intelligent opponent you face notes this distinct trait about you? Perhaps it's because you're painfully easy to read."

"Yeah, I'm easy to read," countered Spiderman. "Otherwise sales would go down."

"And there you go again with what I can only assume is another joke," Scar shot back. "It's clear to anyone that you only use humour because you're too afraid to face life's harsh truths."

Spiderman yawned dramatically. "Yeah? Like what? Every time I hear the 'life's harsh truths' bit they always give slightly different examples."

"Then I'll be happy to provide my own. Let's see… harsh truths. The fact that life's not fair. The fact that some people are born without luck. The fact you can spend your whole life striving for something, shoving aside all else to get to it, only for it to crumble as soon as you touch it... Oh, and the old classic - the fact that during the course of this conversation, I've worked out how to send you careening into the vacuum of space with a push of a button."

Before Spiderman could finish the sentence "Okay, that last one's new," the transporter rings descended from the ceiling and surrounded him. Cursing himself for ignoring his Spider-sense, Spiderman reacted with just enough time to shoot a well-aimed ball of webbing at the door release button before the rings energised and whisked him away.

The head Jaffa bowed to Scar. "Most well played, my lord."

"Yes," responded Scar smugly, "I'm quite proud of how that went."

"My lord!" called another Jaffa agitatedly from the door. "The spider has broken the door release function!"

"What?" snapped the lion, his convivial mood fading quickly.

"It's opened, and it will not close! His projectile has ruined the circuitry!"

Scar growled furiously to himself. While he had succeeded in thwarting Spiderman, the hero's reaction times had still been too fast for him.

"In that case, this position is now untenable," he snarled. "Send some idiots up here to act as fodder. We're going to hide som- we're going to position ourselves somewhere else. Don't stand there dawdling, go!"

"But sir!" protested another Jaffa.

Scar rolled his eyes agitatedly. "Now what?"

"The Chappa'ai has been activa-"

"Whatever it is," growled Scar, already standing in doorway, "deal with it as quickly and brutally as possible." With that he ran into the corridor, the other Jaffa matching his pace.

The Jaffa at the control panel, who had always had anger management issues, shrugged and rigged the entire level the Stargate was on to explode.

##

Snake fired another tranquillizing round and watched his last opponent's face go from angry confusion to perplexed tiredness. He collapsed next to his colleagues, forming a small pile of sleeping armoured aliens.

Snake crept out from the shadows and checked they were all unconscious. He then moved silently to the end of the corridor. His quiet movements made it easy for him to hear that someone was hurrying towards him.

Snake pressed himself against a wall, checking his ammunition supplies. A procession rounded the corner and moved past him without seeing him. Scar led a four Jaffa through the ship, scowling agitatedly. When they had passed him, Snake slid to the centre of the corridor and aimed his gun.

Scar came to a stop at the end of the hallway and scowled harder.

"What is it, my lord?" queried a Jaffa.

"I... don't actually know where I'm going."

"Oh." The Jaffa shared glances. "Would you like suggestions?"

"Whatever," muttered the lion, who hadn't even turned around.

"Down that corridor are the gliders. We can use those to travel outside, and from there we can..."

"Can what?" snapped Scar irritably. He turned in time to see the Jaffa he was talking to crumple, landing on the other three sleeping Jaffa. Scar looked up to see Snake point his tranquillizer at him.

Scar smiled nervously. "...Hello there."

Snake advanced slowly, gun trained on Scar's face. He didn't reply.

"Now, let's not do anything rash," said Scar. "I'm sure we can discuss this."

At that moment, the ship was rocked with an explosion. Snake's aim was put off and Scar seized the opportunity, bolting down the nearest corridor. Snake shot at him, but missed. He broke into a sprint catch up with him. Scar was fleeing faster than Snake could run – the benefit of being quadrupedal. Snake considered shooting him, but he couldn't be sure the dosage was enough for a lion; even a scrawny lion like Scar. So instead, he unclipped a grenade from his belt and flung it over Scar.

Spoony jumped out from behind a corner, Zat held high. He cried triumphantly upon seeing Scar scrape to a stop before him. His victory was short-lived, as he arrived just in time to have Snake's flash-bang smack against his forehead and clatter to the floor. Spoony and Scar regarded the device for a split second, before Spoony accusingly roared at Snake "YOU FOOL-"

##


##

##

##


"...heightened animal senses, it's possible he's feeling the effects worse than we are." Snake's voice slowly became apparent to Scar, although his vision remained purely white.

"Whatever." Spoony sounded tired. "I don't even care. I'm so tempted to shoot you right now."

"I don't think you'd get fa- ...? Look. He's waking up."

Scar, who had been trying to sit up, went unconvincingly limp and tried not to breathe.

"So this is the part where we defeat him, I guess. But first..." Spoony grabbed Scar by the shoulders and shook him violently. "Yo Fratricide. Where's Spidey?"

Scar coughed something almost inaudible.

"So we can hear you!"

"Space..." Scar repeated.

"Space?!" parroted Snake.

"You ejected him from the ship?!" screamed Spoony.

"Yesssss," Scar grinned weakly, "and I'll so to that you too!" He tried to claw at Spoony's face, but only succeeded in falling over. "My head hurts," he whined.

Spoony let go of him and went to a nearby keypad. Keeping his weapon trained on Scar, Snake queried "What are you doing?"

"Working out the teleporty ring controls."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Spoony's face was contorted with rage. "I liked Spiderman. So I'm going to give this furball a taste of his own medicine."

Scar blinked through the lethargy fogging his mind just long enough to work out the meaning of Spoony's words. "No, wait, you can't mean-!"

"I do."

"No!" protested Scar. "We can talk about-"

"Shut up," said Spoony matter-of-factly. "If there's one thing I can't stand, it's betrayal. So shut up."

"-" began Scar, but at that moment, the rings appeared and burst his form into whiteness. They retracted back into the ceiling. He was gone.

"Well, that's it then," said Snake.

"Hmm," said Spoony. "Probably should have beat him up a little before killing him. Broken his legs, maybe."

Snake gave him a look of puzzlement, which was quickly replaced by shock as they appeared on the other ship. Snake ducked into a crouch and aimed his tranquillizer at Deadpool, who waved at him cheerfully. Linkara, who had been speaking animatedly with the mercenary, smiled in surprise at seeing his friend.

"Hey Spoony! Good to see you," said Linkara happily. "I can explain. Actually, no, I can't. But I can fill you in a little."

"Hi Linkara," replied Spoony, walking up to him. "How was your day? Because my day was pretty interesting. I jettisoned Scar into the vacuum of space."

Linkara looked at him. "Now, when you say Scar..."

"Yeah, that Scar. Son-of-a-bitch-that-killed-Mufasa Scar."

Linkara blinked slowly. "Huh. That's… Okay then."

Spoony shook his head. "I know. Don't worry though, we gave him what he deserved. There's no way he's bouncing back from that one."


Scar coughed. He coughed again, and again, until his coughing reached a crescendo of throat-raking hacking, before slowly dying back down into a tired wheeze. Finally, he sucked in a mouthful of air.

Air. That was probably a good sign. Space didn't have air. Ergo, he was no longer in space.

The question was, where was he?

Scar's brain slowly warmed itself up, as though thawing from the freezing nothingness the lion had just experienced. It slowly told him that he was lying on his side on a hard floor somewhere, gravity once again pulling gently down on him as it should do. Darkness engulfed him, so either his eyes were closed, or he was blind.

Scar forced his eyes open and was greeted with a dimly lit, but mercifully visible, room. So he could still see. Seemed as though he was on a lucky streak. Obviously that wouldn't last much longer.

Scar's pessimism was not unfounded. As his eyes adjusted, he realized with a start that a figure was towering over him. It was tall and slender, and two long, curved horns sprouted from its head. Scar couldn't make out its face, but it was clear that the figure was staring at him.

"Pitiful beast!" it boomed. "Thou shalt now pay for all the atrocities thou hast committed in thy sinful life!"

Scar's eyes widened and he struggled to get upright. "No, no," he protested weakly. "There… must be a mistake. You have the wr-"

"Do not worsen my judgement of you further, fiend!" shouted the horned figure. The voice was male, that much Scar could tell, and also increasingly angry. "Make not excuses and face thine punishments with dignity - if indeed thou even possess any!"

Scar tried backing away but quickly met a wall. "Please, you have to understand!" he begged. "Everything I did I had ample -"

"Silence!" the figure exploded. Scar shrank into the ground, quivering in fear.

For a few moments, there was a tense quietness. Scar didn't dare to make any further protests, and the figure appeared to have nothing else to say. But then, gradually, Scar heard the figure make a slight noise.

"Eheheh… eheheheheheh…"

The figure's shoulders shook slightly with soft laughter. He reached over, turned on a light, looked at Scar's dumbfounded expression, and then burst into louder laughter.

"Bwahahahaha!" The light showed that the figure was a pale man whose horns were merely a helmet. "You should have seen the look on your face!" he exclaimed through fits of laughter.

Scar's face turned slowly from shock to confusion to resentment. "And just what is this?"

"A little concept you may have heard of called a 'joke'," replied the man smoothly. He bowed deeply. "Loki, god of mischief, deception and trickery, humbly at your service."

When Scar said nothing, Loki raised an eyebrow. "Well? Are you going to be civil and introduce yourself?"

"No," Scar growled. "I don't tolerate foolishness such as the stunt you just pulled."

Loki crossed his arms, smirking. "Is that so? Well, if I were you, I'd tolerate just about anything I did."

"And why is that?" sneered Scar.

"Oh, nothing major," replied Loki nonchalantly, twirling a broken staff in his fingers. "Just the little fact that I was the one who noticed your mangy hide floating around outside and, in a charitable mood, deigned to drag you to a place where your sad little lungs could draw breath."

Scar blinked, at a rare loss for words.

"Yes, I thought that might change your tone," continued Loki. "I've been here a while, you see. I saw the Spiderman taking a space-walk as well - I assume that was your doing? Kudos. Not much to be done for him now."

Scar's mouth finally caught up with his brain. "And where exactly did you spring from?"

"That 'Stargate' thing that was on your ship - you know, the one you decided to explode? That bright idea was the reason I was even outside in the first place." He chuckled. "Yes, were I not a god I'd probably be pretty ticked at you for that little mishap. But luckily for you, there's not much that can kill me."

"Well, the question now is what to do with ourselves."

"Quite. I can see two options. We can stand here and trade witticisms until you collapse from starvation, or, we can see if there's anywhere we can go which isn't this dull husk of a space vessel."

"I'd prefer that second option," said Scar straight-facedly.

"Hmm, I thought you might. The Stargate is obviously no longer open to us - again, fantastic work - so have you any alternatives to suggest?"

Scar considered this for a moment. "One of my underlings mentioned something about a 'glider', which I gather a lowly oxygen-reliant being such as myself may use to safely travel outside the ship."

Loki clasped his hands together. "That may be our escape route. Come, let us go find these gliders."

Loki strode out of the room, and Scar, seeing little else he could do, decided to follow him.

"By the way," called Loki, "you never did introduce yourself."

"Scar," answered the lion. He reflected on something for a moment. "King Scar," he corrected.

"Well, Your Majesty, it's an absolute pleasure."

"That means a lot, coming from the self-proclaimed god of deception."

Loki grinned widely. "Oh, we are going to get along like a kingdom on fire."


If you're familiar with my opinions on Scar, you should have seen that coming. And now, reviews!