Title: Cant Teach an Old Pirate New Tricks Series: my general crossover, after the 'First Time I Died' sub-series Author: akire Email: akire@mailcity.com Status: C/U Category: Crossover: Highlander/Relic Hunter/SG:SG1 Spoilers: umm, got a basic grasp of the Highlander universe? Fine. Oh yeah, we're a Clan Denial fanfic. Relic Hunter , ripping characters more than plots. SG, no real spoilers in this one. Disclaimers: D/P, Gekko, and the producers of RH really DO own them. If you don't recognize it, its probably mine. If it's silly or crazy, definitely is mine. But if anyone sends the lawyers after me, I'm sending out the boys with swords ;) Oh yeah, and imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. If you recognize a specific fanfic creation, it belongs to its author (when this series is finished, I may tally them up). Rating: PG, prob. Hey, I'm not offended by much, if it should be rated higher, tell me! Content Warning: purists beware. Summary: Sydney is talked into telling another story from her Immortal youth Dedication: No dedication, just appropriation of blame, hey Caity? Notes: Yep, more stuff inspired by the story of Anne Bonny and Mary Read Notes2: I dragged this out and dusted it off to keep things going until the next 'major' story in the main arc came through (goes off to grumble about fickle muses). So don't expect anything heavier than fairyfloss! On with the show! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Sydney? What is this?" Claudia's question preceded her as she walked through the partition which separated the main office area from Sydney's private domain. In her outstretched hand, she held a small golden disk, roughly beaten into shaped and scratched with a few coarse markings. A hole had been punctured through the middle. Sydney took the coin from her newest student, and rolled it in her fingers, a reflective smile on her face. "It's a gold dubloon, Claudia. Specifically, my lucky gold dubloon." Claudia hooked herself into a chair and eyed her teacher eagerly. "I thought you didn't buy into that whole luck/fate thing. Aren't you always telling me and Nigel that we make our own fortune?" "Yes. But back when I was your age, I and nearly everyone around me believed greatly in the powers of Lady Luck. Many people had charms or objects like this." She smiled. "Quite a lot of people carried around a little charm of a skull. Or a real rabbits foot." Claudia's face screwed up into a moue of disgust. "Yuck! Glad you didn't leave a bit of bunny in that box for me to find." The disgust gave way to curiosity. "But why a gold coin?" It was Nigel who answered from the doorway. "It was the only thing of value on the corpse of her challenger for captaincy." Claudia's eyes went as wide as saucers as Sydney chuckled. "Go on, Nigel, spoil my story and steal my punchline." Nigel sauntered inside and dumped a stack of marked scripts in Sydney's outbox. "Well, go on then, tell it. I love a romping tale." "Is it good?" Claudia asked, not sure if she wanted to hear a tale that involved a corpse. Nigel's smile was pure cheek. "It's better when Danya tells it." It was Sydney's turn to be surprised. "When did you two end up talking about it?" Nigel shrugged. "The same way I get any information about your past. I invited him down, plied him with alcohol and asked questions." He tried for schoolboy innocent. "You know, for a man nearly four millennia old, he sure can't hold his liquor." Sydney made a mental note to kill her beloved teacher once or twice at their earliest mutual convenience, before returning to Claudia's original question. "Do you really want to hear the story of how I got that coin?" Claudia drew her knees up to her chin and nodded. "Well, I've told you how I died already. This occurred only a few days after I'd revived. I was still in a bit of a headspin, discovering I was Immortal. But that was only half my problem. With Jack O'Reilly dead, I now had a ship to run. ~~##~~ "You're making this up, aren't you? That's what was in those papers my father sent away. Stories you and he wrote to make a legitimate fortune." Sydney crossed her arms over her freshly mended jerkin, her eyes flashing hostility along with disbelief. Leaning against the bulkhead next to the porthole, Danya smiled slightly. "You were shot. Do you remember that?" "Yes," she conceded. "You died." "I can't have. Unless you died too, and we're just a couple of ghosts wailing in the wind." He looked at her, eyes twinkling in amusement at some private joke. "A ghost. Sounds familiar." Before she could ask him what he was rambling about now, he crossed the tiny cabin in two strides and grabbed her hand. Before she could pull away, he had his belt knife out and was cutting her palm from edge to edge. Hissing, she tried to yank her hand back, but he held firm. "Watch," he commanded. Eyes flashing hatred, Sydney complied. Her hiss of pain turned into a sigh of amazement as the wound sealed itself without scarring. As Danya finally released her, she rubbed her palm with her other hand, seeking flaws and finding none. "How..?" She stuttered, her righteous anger flooding out of her. "You and I are Immortal. I found you when you were a baby, and gave you to Jack to raise as his own. I never expected him to get into privateering, and I don't think he suspected that it was in his future either. But he has raised you well, you've grown into a woman he was very proud of." His eyes softened as he spoke of her father. "He knew what you were to become. He, and the men who came before him, have been keeping a record of me and others like us for centuries. I've been around all your life, Sydney, keeping track of you when I could. He and I knew that when you were reborn into your Immortality, you would need someone to teach you about who you were and what you could expect." Danya's face saddened. "I knew Jack wanted to be here for you. He hoped he would live to explain the truth to you." He looked her in the eye. "I'm sorry it had to be like this. But I promised him I would be here for you, should you need me. I won't break that promise." Bowing slightly, he left the cabin. Sagging against the musty bunk, Sydney broke down as grief and confusion overwhelmed her. It was a long time before she emerged, blinking, into the late afternoon sun. The sounds of birds carried across the waters of the shallow bay they had found refuge in. As she moved across the deck, she comforted herself with the sounds of industry as her crew finished basic repairs after their lethal skirmish with the navy frigate. The cannon shot damage had been her first priority, but now that that was fixed, she could turn her attentions to secondary damage, the tangled rigging, the ash-dark scars along the Glory's hull. Anything to keep her mind off the nightmare her life was becoming. Striding across the decking with authority, she moved towards the foredeck, where a knot of sailors were huddled, whispering conspiratorially. She chewed on her lip for a moment, considering, then changed direction. Unseen in the rigging, Danya watched his student pass underneath. Grabbing a halyard, he swung easily to a lower spar, to better view the conflagration he knew was approaching. Sydney had reached the sailors, who parted before her like a bow wake. In the center of the group was John Calbran, a grizzled sailor of many years experience. Right now, he was trouble she could tell by his cocky stance, the way he was already trying to stare her down. "What's this?" She asked, pitching her words for the group at large, but keeping her eyes firmly on Calbran. "Mutiny?" The crewers she knew personally all seemed to take a step back at once. Calbran still stared, an annoying smirk plastered over his features. Sydney was rapidly feeling the need to wipe it off his face for him. "We just think that it's about time we discussed who will replace your pa as Captain, and I think it should be me." She smirked and rested her hand on the shell of her cutlass. "Hey Matty, this lad wants to be Captain." Matty rested against the port side. "I heard him, Captain," he said evenly. That was all Sydney needed to hear. Without Matty's support, she may as well just fling herself overboard and be done with it. But with the Mate behind her, she could take this upstart out without sparking an all out rebellion. "Mister Calbran, are you trying to take command of my vessel?" He raised an eye and loosened his own weapon. "Your vessel? I don't think you can hold her!" Matty's lilting voice rang out across the deck. "Stand down and show respect tae the Captain, Mister Calbran. If ye have grievance, than let it be heard properly." Matty's offer was an out if Calbran was smart enough to take it, then the issue would be put to a vote. After all, pirate crews lived, thrived or died by the strength of their Captains. Calbran wasn't that smart. He drew his sword in one flourish. "If you want to keep your Captaincy from me, then you're going to have to fight!" He lunged without further preamble. Sydney slid easily over the deck as Calbran's cutlass cut through the air where she once stood. "Mister Calbran, stand down or I will put you down!" For the first time since her father's death she was beginning to feel the old fire, the passion for life. Calbran didn't deign to answer her, but instead reversed his stroke, aiming for her belly. The fight was on in earnest. The rest of the crew watched in preternatural silence as the fight for their ship was played out across the decks. No one cheered. They were matched as sword fighters, but whereas Calbran had greater strength, Sydney had more finesse, and more passion. She had more to loose than just her life. Hey, she thought to herself as she parried another thrust. If this Danya guy was right, then dying was the least of her worries. Calbran made a clumsy thrust and overbalanced forward, and she brought her weapon down in a hard arc. Calbran rolled to the side, but her blade slit him from armpit to hip. He lay on the deck, blood pulsing from the wound as he lay gasping like a landed fish. Rolling onto his back, he fumbled into his belt sack with his good arm. Flinging his hand out, Sydney watched with detached calm as a glinting gold coin tumbled over the deck. "Buy a drink and curse my name, Captain," he muttered. Calbran's eyes rolled back into his head and he died, as red blood pooled in an ever growing puddle around his corpse. Sighing, she dropped her arms to her sides and looked up into the rigging to avoid having to look her crew in the eye. She was afraid that Calbran's sentiment was only the tip of the bad feeling among the crew. Instead of finding the solace of in the bare rigging, she found blue eyes staring at her. How that bastard old man had found his way into the rigging without breaking his neck, she had no idea, but there he was, watching her with an intensity she found unnerving. She decided that her crews' gaze would be more comfortable than his, and returned her face to eyelevel. Matty, as always, was a steadying presence, an anchor point for her in her uncertainty. Starting from there, she walked a tight circle, her own eyes hardening as she raked her gaze across her entire crew. "Anyone else wish to try and take the Glory away?" Another circle in absolute silence. "Good. My father died, but we survived. We have a lot to do to get this old tub seaworthy, then we can start going about recouping our costs and getting our revenge for those that have fallen." Another circle. "Those who will not work under my command can leave now. The rest of you, back to work!" As if a gun had gone off, the entire crew leapt to, scurrying back to their tasks without a backwards glance at their fallen comrade. She sighed silently as Matty caught her eye. She nodded her understanding she had earnt her reprieve, now she had to prove her worth. Breathing deeply, she crouched down over the corpse. The glitter of gold in sunlight caught her eye, and she rose and walked over to where the coin had dropped. Picking it up, she rolled it pensively between her fingers. A shadow fell across her hand, causing the coin to loose its lacklustre gleam. "You fight well..," "Thanks," she growled. "...for an amateur." He added scathingly. "But we will correct that, have no fear." "What makes you think I want you to 'correct' my style?" She turned to meet his eyes, her lip curling into a sneer. "What do you get out of it? Why the hell do you stay?!" "Promise." "What?" She was vaguely aware that the middle of the main deck was not the best place to hold this discussion, but her fury was boiling. "Promise," he replied simply. "A promise I made your father; the promise I see in you." Danya reached down and lifted her sword arm, slipping his fingers over the top of hers, sandwiching his hand between hers and the steel of the clamshell. "I can teach you to survive. You've been given a magnificient gift, Sydney, and yet it is also a dreadful curse." His face curled into a small but honest smile as he looked at their joined hand. "Immortality can be many things. You need to be prepared." "And if I don't want your help?" "Then I will bury you at sea, like your father." He slipped his hand away, and the sword clanged against the decking. He was at the poop deck before Sydney gathered her wits together enough to curse him even mentally. But his words carried a weight of certainty. Turning on her boot heel, she strode to the bowsprit. The sea always calmed her before, but floating at anchor in this woe-begotten bay allowed for little introspection. Again, she heard her father's final words to her. 'Trust him...' "How can I trust him, papa?" She whispered. "He was your confidant, not mine." Her grief was giving way to senseless anger. "Neither of you even bothered to tell me the truth!" "Perhaps they had good reason?" Sydney nearly leapt overboard in surprise. "Matty! I didn't hear you!" The Mate smiled gently. "You were lost in conversation there, Cap't." With the grace of a giant man, he folded his arms to rest against the bow. "Actually, I've been meaning to have a word with you. 'Bout your father." He had Sydney's undivided attention. "What about papa, Matty?" Matty looked at her, a gentle smile on her face. "He had diaries, letters to you, and stuff. Private, like. He locked 'em in his little safe, right down the back. He made me promise that if anything happened to him, I was to get you to read 'em." Nodding to himself as he fulfilled his promise, Matty pushed himself fully upright again. "You go along, I'll keep this mob in line." Sydney was shaking her head slightly. "Matty, I don't know the combination for that safe," she told him plaintively. Matty looked down at her with knowing eyes. "But your new friend does." Discretely, Matty gestured to the castle. Danya was leaning against the small structure, eyes fixed on Sydney. As soon as he saw her look, he ducked down towards the cabins. Sydney looked to Matty. "Go on, Sydney m'girl. Your father trusted him with you, that's got to be worth something in the man's favour." Gently, he scooted his friend's daughter on her way. ~~##~~ Ducking under the low lintel, Sydney saw that Danya had already removed the false wall which hid the safe from prying eyes. Wordlessly, the older man shuffled sideways on his knees to allow Sydney access. "You know the combination." It was a statement. Danya nodded. "Yes. And now so do you." Long fingers wrapped around the tumbler, and slowly span them through the combination. Automatically, Sydney committed them to memory. On well-oiled hinges, the safe's door swung open. Rising to his feet in one fluid motion, Danya sketched a half bow. "I'll be in my cabin when you are finished." Before Sydney could protest, he was gone, closing the door behind him. Hesitantly, Sydney reached in and pulled out the first bundle of pages. "My dearest daughter. I must confess a secret I have kept from you all these years. For even though I call you my daughter, and consider you a child of my heart, you are not a child of my flesh. And though we have stayed side by side through our many adventures, your destiny is different from mine..." ~~##~~ It was full dark by the time she reemerged. Most of the crew had either shambled off to sleep or were preparing themselves for the first watch. Moving more by memory than by the feeble lantern light, she climbed to the wheelhouse. As she expected, she found Matty there. "Did ya find all ya were looking for, Capt'?" Sydney ignored the question. "Have you seen Danya around anywhere, Matty?" "Aye." He pointed up through the darkness towards the crow's nest. It was a difficult climb in the dark, but Sydney had almost spent all her life on ships of one kind or another. With a final pant, she hauled herself into the crow's nest proper. Daniel was sitting crosslegged on the floor of the tiny perch, his back against the mast which speared through the centre. "Are you ready to talk now?" "I have questions." "Of that I have no doubt." She paused for a moment to settle herself securely in the remaining space, trying not to get to close to him. "My father's journal says you found me, and gave me to him to raise." "That is correct." "Why didn't you raise me yourself?" She wished there was a lantern up here, so she could see his face. But somehow, it was easier to voice these questions in the dark. "You loved your father? Yes, of course you did, you have grieved for his loss like a daughter. Let me tell you something about the Game. It is a hard life, Sydney. More difficult than anything you have known before. It has incredible dangers, demands much of those who are destined for it. I will be your teacher, your guide. And even though you despise me now -- you're still stinging from the times I took your fathers' attentions away from you, still rejecting me because I'm the messenger of your fate but in time you and I will develop a relationship. Don't look so incredulous," he scolded her gently, and she found herself automatically wiping all expression from her face. "It will happen, simply because we are so alike, because we will spend so much time together." He leaned forward as if to impart a great secret. "What I'm trying to say Sydney is that, even if you don't believe it now, in time we will grow to care for each other." She snorted, trying to sound like a tough, independent pirate captain. "I find that hard to believe. Anyway, what does that have to do with anything. Answer my question!" "Why didn't I raise you myself? Besides from the fact that I have faced numerous Challenges since you were born and now, Challengers who would have taken you as a child Quickening simply because you were there? Well, Sydney, as I said, we will grow to care for each other. I will grow even more fond of you, as I did with all my other students. But, like all students, there is a risk. Do you know how many new Immortal's make it through their first decade? Not many at all. I have lost students before, Sydney. Despite everything I taught them, they just didn't have it in them when the time came. And it hurt it hurt more than words can express, to loose a student. Now imagine what it would feel like if instead of loosing a student, I was loosing a daughter?" She snarled in the darkness. "Like it would hurt any less for Jack O'Reilly!" His tone was gentle. "Ahh, but Jack O'Reilly had one benefit over us in that regard. His pain would end with his mortal life." ~~##~~ "What's so funny, Nigel?" The Englishman smiled. "Nothing." "Nigel!" "It's just Danya tells it so differently. He starts off with you fighting the Challenger and he makes it sound like some epic battle, a clash of the titans event then merely says you took a few days to adjust to it all before he starts griping about how you hated training." Sydney laughed. "Well, that's true too." Claudia's lip curled into a dainty little sneer. "Did he make you do laps too?" Sydney's first step with her new charge had been to improve Claudia's fitness level. It was finally Nigel's persuasive arguments about having a 'killer bod' after it all that finally got the girl running resentful laps of the training course every morning. "He made me do laps of islands. Climb the mast a few times each day. He had me on the move morning day and night. He had this one trick..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "Oh please," Nigel said. "This isn't that one about the fallen coconut tree and the..." "Flying coconuts of death!" Claudia threw up her arms. "Don't want to hear it!" She pointed to Sydney. "She's already punishing me enough, don't give her ideas!" Nigel laughed and patted her shoulder. "I understand that Danya could be quite inventive in his training regimes." Sydney leered at her students. "Oh, I'm sure I could dream up something if you've got nothing better to do." The pair were out of her office so fast they almost had little dust clouds flying in their wake. Chuckling to herself, Sydney leaned over and picked up the dubloon from the table where Claudia had left it. Fingering it pensively, she reflected on those early conversations between her teacher and herself. "You were right old man. As much as I hate to admit it, you were right all the way." She looked down at the coin laying in the palm of her hand. Perhaps she should get a leather thong, give it to Claudia. Even with the best teaching she could give, sometimes people needed all the luck they could get. ~~##~~