Cat's Eyes A Highlander/SG-1 Xover By Tasha Part 6 The only people in the briefing room were Hammond, O'Neill, Carter, Jackson, Teal'c and Adam. The security monitors were off, the room was as sealed as it could be, and the SGC personnel waited for Adam to begin whatever it was he had to say. Daniel watched as his friend made sure he had everyone's attention. "What I'm about to tell you can go no further than this room," he finally started. "I mean, it can't go up, it can't go sideways, and it definitely can't go down. The one and only reason I am telling any of you any of this is because the Goa'uld took Richie." He caught each face in succession and Daniel didn't feel very comfortable under his gaze when he reached him. "Now, Richie is a friend, but that has nothing to do with why we *have* to get him back," Adam continued slowly. "The real reason is very simple: it's possible that Richie could become a very powerful weapon for the Goa'uld, and if he does they're not going to leave this planet alone ... ever." Daniel was listening very hard. No one chose to ask questions, they knew the answers were coming. "I'm not exactly what I appear to be," suddenly Adam really was a stranger to Daniel. "I'm older than I look by a long way and some of the people I have known were older. I don't know about the rebellion because I'm the latest in a long line of people who passed the knowledge down. I know because I was mentored by someone who was there." There was total silence and Daniel tried desperately to rationalise what Adam had said. He thought of the mirror that had sent him to an alternate dimension, and his mind shifted to ideas of alien technology. "What do you mean someone who was there?" Hammond asked the question. "My mentor was in the rebellion," Adam replied evenly. "He and several of our kind were recruited by the Lenerai to fight against Ra. He lead a resistance group in the rebellion, he watched the Stargate being buried, and he hoped it would never be uncovered. He told me about it because he knew there was a possibility of exactly what you're doing." "What was this guy?" O'Neill asked quickly. "Some sort of time traveller?" Adam actually laughed at the question. "No," he said slowly, "He was alive before the rebellion began and he was still standing when it ended. He was Immortal, and so am I and so is Richie." Daniel looked at his companions and tried to gauge their reactions. It appeared very much as if General Hammond was caught halfway between laughter at the ludicrous suggestion and anger at having his time wasted. "Don't worry, General," Adam continued, "I don't expect you to take what I say on faith, I can prove what I say." Without warning the man reached out across the table and grabbed the pen that was sat in front of Daniel. Much to the archaeologist's horror Adam then rapidly stabbed the object through his hand. "What in heaven's name ...," Hammond started and O'Neill tried to grab the so called Immortal to stop him injuring himself further. They obviously both thought they were dealing with a lunatic. Adam just took a step back, and with a grunt pulled the pen out of the wound. "Just watch," he said calmly, and moved back to put his hand flat on the table. Daniel had trouble believing what he was seeing as right in front of his eyes the wound began to close. Even most of the blood was somehow reabsorbed. "Compared to my mentor I'm just a kid and Richie's only a baby," Adam told them, "he's exactly who his record says he is, but he's Immortal like me. Imagine a Goa'uld that doesn't need a sarcophagus to heal, one that really is Immortal, who's immune to staff weapons, and at best will only be dead for a while if you fire bullets at them. Imagine what the Goa'uld will do if they think there are more like Richie on Earth." Most people had their mouths open and were just staring, until Hammond turned to O'Neill. "Colonel," he said slowly, "we have a rescue to plan." ===================================================================== Richie opened his eyes slowly and tried to focus on the world around him. The last thing he remembered was an explosion behind him, and falling, but he definitely wasn't on the floor now. It took his muddled mind a few seconds to realise he was in a half upright position, strapped to some sort of frame. He began to get a very bad feeling about the whole situation, and when his eyes finally focused it became much worse. "We were wondering how long it would take you to regain consciousness," the very strange looking man in front of him said. Whatever was going on, Richie was sure it had something to do with the Stargate. Most military personnel did not go around dressed as if they had just stepped out of the "Mummy's Curse", and they most definitely didn't have golden eyes. "Who are you supposed to be, King Tut?" Richie retreated to his smart mouth for cover. For a moment the man just stared at him, and then he smiled. The long fangs he revealed did nothing to calm Richie's disquiet. Then reality took a left turn as the man's eyes glowed white almost obscuring all but the pupil. "I am Shu, Lion god, master of the dry air, son of Ra" Richie had decided it was a creature not a man, "and I find you most interesting. You heal with a speed unknown before in your kind, and with such completeness as to be almost miraculous. Yes, I find you very interesting indeed." The Immortal went cold. This thing knew at least part of his secret, and it didn't look as if it was being friendly about the matter. "I will know the extent of these healing powers," Shu continued, "and if you are satisfactory you will be given the greatest gift of all. You will be made a god." For some reason Richie didn't find that comforting at all. For the first time he noted a smaller man off to the left, and this individual was eyeing him up and down like a piece of meet. "Find out all you can, Amar," Shu told the man, "and be careful with him: he is a valuable prize." "Of course, Master," the man responded and almost prostrated himself on the floor. Shu, whatever he really was turned and strode out of the room. Richie didn't like the look in Amar's eye as he walked up to him. The man picked up a knife from a table beside the frame to which the Immortal was tied, and Richie knew he wasn't about to carve an apple. "Now we shall find out just how well, and how fast you heal," Amar said coldly, and lifted the knife. "Y'know there are easier ways to get answers than this," Richie tried desperately. "I will tell you how well I heal." "And how would I know if you were lying?" Amar's reply was so logical as to be ice cold. At some point most of Richie's clothes had been removed, there was nothing stopping the blade as Amar pushed it against the bare skin of the Immortal's chest. The first wound was shallow, and Richie just grunted at the pain, but the second was deeper, and the third deeper still--by then Richie was screaming. Time was measured in how many different forms of pain Amar chose to inflict. There had been the knife, flames, some sort of energy Richie had never seen before. As the minutes crawled by each successive torture became worse, and the Immortal's wracked body took longer to heal. Nothing seemed to be beyond Amar's twisted imagination, and yet he went about his work like a scientist, noting things as he worked. At one point he had been about to cut off several fingers to see what happened, but Richie's vehement promises that it would be permanent stopped him. It was only later that he finally made a mistake. Amar was testing the combination of knife wound and quarterisation and the knife slipped: he cut too far and Richie felt the cold, welcoming embrace of death. ===================================================================== Shu stood in front of Amar, his eyes flaming. The body of the slave hung limply from the x frame, eyes closed in death, and Amar trembled beside it. It had taken the Jaffa on guard less than a minute to report Amar's mistake, and Shu had wasted no time in appearing. "You killed him you fool," Shu raged. "The most interesting find in centuries and you killed him. To revive him could damage the experiment." "I am sorry, master," Amar tried to get out his excuses, but Shu was not about to listen. "You have failed me, Priest," he spat coldly, "and I do not accept failure." Shu held out his arm, and the errant priest looked on the crystal in his palm with terror. "It is time to die, Amar," he said mercilessly. The energy ripped out of the device like a ribbon and touched Amar's head: instantly the man began to scream. Shu bared his fangs in a snarl and turned the full force of his personal weapon on the priest. First the man's skin became dry and wrinkled like parchment, flaking off where his hands reached desperately to his face. Then his eyeballs shrivelled, caving in on themselves as his cry rose as a warning to others who might fail their god. All the fatty tissue of his body began to disappear, and his clothes started to hang loosely on a frame close to a skeleton. His fingernails turned yellow and cracked, and the muscles and tendon in his body began to crumble. His scream died as his lungs and larynx ceased to function and slowly what was left of him fell in on itself. As it did so it turned to dust. Shu stared at his handiwork for a few seconds and then turned his back on it. "Clean up this mess," he ordered the nearest Jaffa. He was annoyed, no more than annoyed, very angry. The new human specimen had seemed so promising, and he had been looking forward to taking the advantage over his royal cousins. Now he would have to start again and find a new specimen. Shu moved to leave the disaster behind him and then he heard something. With lightening speed he turned on the spot and looked at the captive. Shu was amazed, the human was breathing, and there had been no outside help what so ever. As the Goa'uld realised the truth of the situation he began to laugh. Changing hosts was not something a Goa'uld did often, or without serious thought, but this chance was far too good to ignore. "Prepare him for implantation," he ordered quickly, "today your god becomes truly invulnerable." ===================================================================== The rescue was a relatively simple plan with little or no subtlety. SG-3 and SG-7 would go through first, taking positions and laying down covering fire. SG-1 plus Methos were the rescue party, being the only ones who knew the truth, and whilst battle was joined they would attempt to locate and remove Richie from Goa'uld hands. How to find him would be a problem solved once they were on the other planet in one piece. In their arrogance the Goa'uld had not expected an attack. They had increased the guard on the Stargate slightly, but the armour of the four Jaffa killed in the attack on SGC had provided enough of a disguise to secure the position. Reinforcements soon arrived, but by that time SG-1 were long gone. "Y'know I have a bad feeling about this," Methos said as the group moved towards the temple. "Diversionary tactics don't usually work unless the enemy is really stupid." "Well we have to look for him somewhere," O'Neill countered, "and this is about the likeliest place as any." "I didn't say we had any other choice," Methos shot back, "I just said I have a bad feeling." Carter just glared at him. The Immortal was carrying a gun and his sword, which looked rather strange in conjunction with the camouflage gear he had borrowed. Unfortunately for the group his words were somewhat prophetic. They crept towards the outer wall of the large structure and suddenly, out of the undergrowth, like so many ghosts, seven lion helmeted Jaffa appeared. "We're in trouble," was all O'Neill could say. End of Part 6