Big Bang Fic #3: Child Soldier
Author: Regency
Title: Child Soldier
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): moderately graphic depictions of violence, language
Spoilers: Fragile Balance, but takes place shortly after
Word count: 1,036
Summary: Talk about your misnomers. Jack’s clone has found himself caught in a nasty little scenario with the international military-industrial complex, but he’s in a mood to turn that around.
Author’s Notes: Written for the stargateland Big Bang Challenge. Under revision.
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters recognizable as being from Stargate SG-1. They are the property of their actors, producers, writers, and studios, not me. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made in the writing or distribution of this story. It was good, clean fun.
~!~
Pretend you don’t hear the dogs, Jack coached himself while reaching for the next gap in the high brick wall. He forced his body up with his unwounded leg and paid no mind to the one that dangled on the last foothold, dripping blood to the torture-crazed canines snapping at his heels. They’d be gone as soon as he was at the top and over. They wouldn’t be on the other side; all he had to do was reach the top. Just one more obstacle, he assured his weary body, just one more.
He tossed his right arm across the hedge that the lined the head of the wall and into the branches to anchor his ascent. The thick limbs creaked and warped under his weight but didn’t give. He didn’t realize he’d started holding his breath until he was draped, panting, over the green. The blood still drip-dropped toward the muddy bottom and the hounds still waited. They wanted him to fall so that he could be their meal.
Jack had an idea how hungry they must have been, had a feeling that it was the burning emptiness in their stomachs that fueled the rage that made them snap and gnaw and chase at bodies too untrained to handle the strain. The course behind him was littered with the desecrated corpses of the kids who’d been too slow.
He hadn’t been all that fast himself, just fast enough to outrun them. He’d tried to pull some to speed with him, but they’d been too spooked to hear his instructions and follow his lead. It was every guy and girl for themselves when the dogs barked. They’d been let out of their pig pen of a shipping container only to land on Hell Beach.
It was giving Ne’tu a run for its money and he’d only been here for hours, maybe a quarter of a day. They sunset they’d arrived under had passed into eerie night. There used to be screaming as far the ears could perceive and the sound of grass and cracked leaves crunches under a multitude of feet. But from up here, way up here, Jack could only hear himself breathing. Breathing, bleeding, and dying. Whoever had brought them here hadn’t done it for the good of the children. They had an ulterior motive and he’d bet his last dollar that it wasn’t a good one.
People who yank kids off the street never have good intentions. It didn’t take a rocket scientist or even an astrophysicist to figure that out. Jack had been minding his business, walking near the park after school when a fan had ridden up next to him on the street. He could have outrun almost anyone they and he would have, if they hadn’t shown him the kid they’d already caught.
Reese Collins was a good kid. Whatever they had in mind, she didn’t deserve and she definitely didn’t deserve to go through it alone. So, he’d dropped his backpack in the hopes that someone would find it and he’d gone without resisting. Not for the first time, Jack cursed the part of him that would always have a soft spot for lost children.
They were here now, days later and however many hundreds or thousands of miles away from where they’d started. In the first sixty seconds, the dogs had come out to play and the games had truly begun. There’d been few places to hide where the dogs couldn’t reach and, so, he’d run. They’d all run.
It was a goddamned obstacle course. Old school, boot camp shit. There was no way out but through. Jack had never jumped through so many hoops or dragged himself free of so much quicksand. Spikes, needles, branches, glass. He burned in so many places that it was the uninjured spots that ached the most.
Whoever had sent for them wanted them to hurt, but most of all Jack thought they wanted them tough. Thin the herd. Separate the wheat from the chaff. Cliché, cliché, cliché. Someone wanted the fittest to survive and only the fittest. He didn’t let himself think about what was happening to the rest; he’d already seen.
This was going to be hell on Earth and he hadn’t the slightest idea how he was going to get out.
~!~
Jack landed on solid ground with his good leg and staggered on his bad one. The bleeding started again, the nausea it brought so strong he would have heaved if he’d recently eaten. He choked it back and began to move. The dogs had been quiet for a while now, but he couldn’t say how long. Somehow the stars had been distracting and the blood loss wearying until sleep was too easy. Sleep or unconsciousness, he’d felt about as good after a bout of either in the past. Yeah, things are looking up all right.
He looked around at the carnage that had preceded him to the ground. A pile of bodies and pieces of bodies and there goes that nausea again. He gave up fighting against the bile and puked. But not on the kids, never on the kids. All they had left was the dignity he gave them in death. He could give them that.
He wiped his mouth and staggered a distance. He could smell them; more things to dream about and never forget.
The wall they’d crossed had been a few hundred meters wide and several high. It was bookended by dense wood on either side. Nothing a few kids with no tools to surmount. The wall was the only final solution and apparently their hosts had had something waiting for the first to make it. The fall had been too much for Jack to contemplate at the time. He realized now that he’d gotten damned lucky. Guess some things never change even when you’re cloned.
And speaking of clones, he was seriously hoping someone had called Jack - other Jack - to ask about him. The old man was their only hope and he knew it. Hope had never gotten him far, but he was still counting on it. The rest, he figured, was up to them.
Bring it on, big guys. I’m waiting.
Title: Child Soldier
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): moderately graphic depictions of violence, language
Spoilers: Fragile Balance, but takes place shortly after
Word count: 1,036
Summary: Talk about your misnomers. Jack’s clone has found himself caught in a nasty little scenario with the international military-industrial complex, but he’s in a mood to turn that around.
Author’s Notes: Written for the stargateland Big Bang Challenge. Under revision.
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters recognizable as being from Stargate SG-1. They are the property of their actors, producers, writers, and studios, not me. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made in the writing or distribution of this story. It was good, clean fun.
~!~
Pretend you don’t hear the dogs, Jack coached himself while reaching for the next gap in the high brick wall. He forced his body up with his unwounded leg and paid no mind to the one that dangled on the last foothold, dripping blood to the torture-crazed canines snapping at his heels. They’d be gone as soon as he was at the top and over. They wouldn’t be on the other side; all he had to do was reach the top. Just one more obstacle, he assured his weary body, just one more.
He tossed his right arm across the hedge that the lined the head of the wall and into the branches to anchor his ascent. The thick limbs creaked and warped under his weight but didn’t give. He didn’t realize he’d started holding his breath until he was draped, panting, over the green. The blood still drip-dropped toward the muddy bottom and the hounds still waited. They wanted him to fall so that he could be their meal.
Jack had an idea how hungry they must have been, had a feeling that it was the burning emptiness in their stomachs that fueled the rage that made them snap and gnaw and chase at bodies too untrained to handle the strain. The course behind him was littered with the desecrated corpses of the kids who’d been too slow.
He hadn’t been all that fast himself, just fast enough to outrun them. He’d tried to pull some to speed with him, but they’d been too spooked to hear his instructions and follow his lead. It was every guy and girl for themselves when the dogs barked. They’d been let out of their pig pen of a shipping container only to land on Hell Beach.
It was giving Ne’tu a run for its money and he’d only been here for hours, maybe a quarter of a day. They sunset they’d arrived under had passed into eerie night. There used to be screaming as far the ears could perceive and the sound of grass and cracked leaves crunches under a multitude of feet. But from up here, way up here, Jack could only hear himself breathing. Breathing, bleeding, and dying. Whoever had brought them here hadn’t done it for the good of the children. They had an ulterior motive and he’d bet his last dollar that it wasn’t a good one.
People who yank kids off the street never have good intentions. It didn’t take a rocket scientist or even an astrophysicist to figure that out. Jack had been minding his business, walking near the park after school when a fan had ridden up next to him on the street. He could have outrun almost anyone they and he would have, if they hadn’t shown him the kid they’d already caught.
Reese Collins was a good kid. Whatever they had in mind, she didn’t deserve and she definitely didn’t deserve to go through it alone. So, he’d dropped his backpack in the hopes that someone would find it and he’d gone without resisting. Not for the first time, Jack cursed the part of him that would always have a soft spot for lost children.
They were here now, days later and however many hundreds or thousands of miles away from where they’d started. In the first sixty seconds, the dogs had come out to play and the games had truly begun. There’d been few places to hide where the dogs couldn’t reach and, so, he’d run. They’d all run.
It was a goddamned obstacle course. Old school, boot camp shit. There was no way out but through. Jack had never jumped through so many hoops or dragged himself free of so much quicksand. Spikes, needles, branches, glass. He burned in so many places that it was the uninjured spots that ached the most.
Whoever had sent for them wanted them to hurt, but most of all Jack thought they wanted them tough. Thin the herd. Separate the wheat from the chaff. Cliché, cliché, cliché. Someone wanted the fittest to survive and only the fittest. He didn’t let himself think about what was happening to the rest; he’d already seen.
This was going to be hell on Earth and he hadn’t the slightest idea how he was going to get out.
~!~
Jack landed on solid ground with his good leg and staggered on his bad one. The bleeding started again, the nausea it brought so strong he would have heaved if he’d recently eaten. He choked it back and began to move. The dogs had been quiet for a while now, but he couldn’t say how long. Somehow the stars had been distracting and the blood loss wearying until sleep was too easy. Sleep or unconsciousness, he’d felt about as good after a bout of either in the past. Yeah, things are looking up all right.
He looked around at the carnage that had preceded him to the ground. A pile of bodies and pieces of bodies and there goes that nausea again. He gave up fighting against the bile and puked. But not on the kids, never on the kids. All they had left was the dignity he gave them in death. He could give them that.
He wiped his mouth and staggered a distance. He could smell them; more things to dream about and never forget.
The wall they’d crossed had been a few hundred meters wide and several high. It was bookended by dense wood on either side. Nothing a few kids with no tools to surmount. The wall was the only final solution and apparently their hosts had had something waiting for the first to make it. The fall had been too much for Jack to contemplate at the time. He realized now that he’d gotten damned lucky. Guess some things never change even when you’re cloned.
And speaking of clones, he was seriously hoping someone had called Jack - other Jack - to ask about him. The old man was their only hope and he knew it. Hope had never gotten him far, but he was still counting on it. The rest, he figured, was up to them.
Bring it on, big guys. I’m waiting.