Chapter 8 "Look, Joe!" Amanda crowed as she waved the little card in her hand. "An honest to god legit ID -- and I didn't even have to pay for it!" "Ain't it amazin'," Dawson grinned at her delight, watching as the other Immortals lined up to receive their documents. Signed up, sworn in and with papers to prove it. And to an Immortal they stood gazing at the proof of their identities, never to have to worry -- at least in this lifetime -- about their legal status. "Kinda nice, huh, Mac?" The Highlander nodded, caressing his new passport. "Yeah," he said softly. "It's been a long time since I didn't have to pay under the table to be considered a person." "Why'd they do it?" Amanda asked quietly. "I mean, I'm not complaining, but..." "Wouldn't do to have your operatives stopped at customs, now would it?" Robert grinned as he came over. "That and the fact that you're now legally bound to them," Dawson supplied and the others stared in astonishment. "What?" he chuckled. "You thought this was a free ride? You talk now and it's treason." "Whatever the cost," Gina said as she joined them, "it's worth it. You remember the old days, Duncan. Everywhere we were stopped and asked for our papers. And everything had to be in order or face arrest." "And a man's life is in his name," Robert held up the thick envelope that contained his documents. "What are we without the ability to prove who we are?" "These days? Nobody," MacLeod agreed. Nearby, the older Immortals were vastly amused by the younger ones. Oh, certainly it was convenient to have these new papers, but the need to prove one's lineage or attachment to a piece of land had long since been burned out of them by time and circumstance. Still, it was good to be 'real' if only in the eyes of the law. This bit of necessary business done they were given their uniforms, allowed to change then brought to the conference room to await orders. A few minutes after their arrival the sound of warning klaxons filtered into the room and they crowded around the window overlooking the gate. They watched, still awestruck by the sight of the huge maelstrom of light which exploded outward only to come to rest in the center of the ring looking for all intents and purposes like an innocuous pool of rippling water. "Adam doesn't look too happy," Joe murmured to MacLeod a little while later after the members of SG-1 and General Hammond had arrived to talk to the two men who had come through the gate. MacLeod hummed a brief agreement. "The older guy," he explained quietly. "That's Jacob Carter. Used to be General Carter before he blended with a symbiote named Selmak. The other guy," he shook his head. "I've never seen. But from the way he's dressed I'd say he was one of the Tok'ra." "The good aliens," Joe nodded, still inwardly amazed by the whole concept which had been outlined to them by Daniel Jackson. "Pretty good," MacLeod sighed. "Adam's got issues with them. For some reason they seem to think he's the best thing since sliced bread." "You're kidding?" MacLeod grinned. "Ask him sometime. Cussing in Chinese can get pretty vivid." Down below, Jacob and the other man turned their gazes toward the conference room window. A few minutes later they were climbing the stairs and all eyes turned to the door. "Incredible," Jacob absently murmured as he stepped inside and got his first good look at the group. "My apologies for keeping you waiting," General Hammond said as he entered. "As you can see we have some guests who've come a long way to meet you." "You have told them of us?" Ptahsennes' voice was edging into anger. "No," Jacob interjected. "The Tok'ra have always known about the existence of Immortals, we just never expected to find any." "And you are?" a soft voice from the back of the room inquired. The Immortals parted to allow the smaller man to been seen. "I'm Jacob Carter. My symbiote's name is Selmak. And y-- Holy Hannah!" Jacob's eyes went wide as he got his first really clear look at the Immortal. "You're... You really are him, aren't you?!" "Jacob!" Methos hissed. "No," Alexander held up a hand. "Enough is enough, Adam. I have to work with these people and you can't build a relationship of teamwork and trust based on a lie. At some point I have to have faith that my head will be worth more to them on my shoulders than as a trophy on someone's wall." The eyes of everyone were on him now and he shrugged. "As some of you may have guessed," he nodded to Joe. "My real name is Alexander. And I wasn't that great. I just did a lot of interesting stuff." The silence was deafening until the man who'd come through the Stargate with Jacob interrupted. "And I am Martouf," he said, a little taken aback when the others looked at him as if he'd desecrated a shrine. "Is this not the proper time for introductions?" Methos laughed and every eye turned to him instead. "It's the perfect time," he grinned. "Especially after that noticeably pregnant pause. Not to worry, Martouf," he added at the man's confusion. "They're just a little surprised. Alex has a bit of a reputation here on Earth and they didn't know he was alive." "But you did," Joe said with a hint of annoyance and Methos merely shrugged. "I know a lot of things you don't, but that's not what's important. What's important is that the knowledge of his existence never goes any further than us. You all know," Methos stared hard at the others, "just how Alex would be hunted." "They'd go through hundreds just to get to the one," MacLeod nodded. "Exactly. And no record of who he was must ever be made," he added pointedly. Dawson snorted in disdain, nodding slowly. "You culled his chronicle, didn't you? That's why there are no pictures or drawings." Methos didn't bother to deny it. "He doesn't deserve that. No one does," he stated simply. "Now, do I have your cooperation?" The others nodded. "Good. Joseph?" "Yeah, yeah," Dawson agreed. "I'll keep my mouth shut." "Thank you." Jack suddenly interrupted, an acidic grin marking his features. "If the Immortal Appreciation Society is done with its meeting, maybe we could get back to business?" "Thank you, Colonel. I can take it from here," General Hammond said calmly. "The Tok'ra have expressed some interest in your training," he explained. "They would like to help, though I personally can't see how the presence of one man could possibly be of any real assistance to you. Be that as it may, Martouf has asked permission to join you in the hope that it will promote greater understanding and cooperation between the two groups." There were no objections and Hammond went on. "Now that's settled." He took a deep breath. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you will kindly follow SG-1 to the gate room they will take you to your next destination." "We're going someplace else?" Amanda looked startled. "Dressed like this?" Methos and MacLeod snickered as Joe merely shook his head and O'Neill stepped forward pacing slowly around Amanda. He came to a stop in front of her. "You look fabulous -- Airman. Now, GET YOUR ASS IN GEAR!" Instead of jumping to attention Amanda merely looked bored. "I've been executed by scarier men than you, Colonel. But," she sighed. "If you insist." Half the Immortals in the room winced, while the other half tried not to look. O'Neill stared at her thoughtfully. "Do you like goats, Amanda?" She gazed at the colonel as if he'd lost his mind. "Goats? No. Why?" "Good!" he smiled cheerfully. "Because for the next two weeks you're going to be on Goat Guard." "Goat Guard?! As in...guarding a bunch of goats? Whatever for?" "Because I said so," O'Neill responded quietly. Before Amanda could protest MacLeod grabbed her arm and dragged her out the door as the others quickly followed. "Uh, Jack," Daniel said quietly as he came up beside him. "There aren't any goats on P3W184." "That's okay. I'll requisition some."