Cat's Eyes
Natasha Duncan-Drake


Timeline:
Highlander - post Archangel but assuming the Highlander the Fanfic 
Season ending not the cannon ending. In this reality Ahriman was
defeated, and Richie is alive.
SG-1 - post Shauri's death, but prior to the end of season 4.

Summary: Daniel is having trouble with a translation: it just doesn't
make any sense. Who could he possibly call, but a friend he met a
conference years ago who is the best linguist he has ever met.

Disclaimer: Highlander and Stargate SG-1 do not belong to me, I'm just
borrowing them and not making any money from them.
Rating: PG-13 for violence.


Cat’s Eyes
A Highlander/SG-1 Xover
By Natasha Duncan-Drake

What was left of some of the buildings was very beautiful, but it had
been uninhabited for a very long time. As soon as they walked out of
the room that housed the Stargate it was obvious that not a lot lived
in the vicinity. Daniel stood there just looking for a while and it
reminded him of a scene from some post-apocalyptic movie. Only here the
wind whistling through the derelict buildings was real, and the
emptiness seemed to surround the team. There were few visual clues as
to the culture behind the structures, and nothing really suggested any
particular era from Earth's history to explain their origins.

"Nobody's home," Jack said from where he stood slightly to the front of
the others.

"This place feels like a tomb," Daniel commented.

"Thank you so much for that happy imagery, Dr Jackson," O'Neill shot
back sarcastically.

"This looks much like a city Apophis decimated while I was in his
service," Teal'c provided in his normal stoic tone. "I would suggest
that this place was destroyed by the Goa'uld a very long time ago."

"And the sixty four thousand dollar question is - ‘Why?’," Jack said,
obviously as unhappy with this mission as he had been from the first
moment it was mentioned.

The world had shown up as dead when the probe had gone through, but
some of the pictures it sent back had perked the interest of the
scientific side of SGC. Daniel had actually been quite excited by the
things he had seen, but then as Jack so often reminded him, his idea of
fun was playing in a big sandpit with dead people. The first
indications were of an Earth type culture, but standing there Daniel
wasn't so sure any more. It was definitely a city, but for some reason
he couldn’t quite pin down he didn't think it was a human city.

"I'd say the answer is down there," Sam offered her opinion on the
problem and pointed to a group of large important looking buildings.

"Well let's get on with the history lesson then," Jack decided and
moved off. "Teal'c check out the perimeter, make sure were not going to
suddenly have company. You know how I so dislike surprises. The rest of
you follow me."

Daniel took one last look around and then headed after the rapidly
disappearing Colonel. This place felt old, and as usual anything with
age called to him to investigate. Archaeology and anthropology were
what he had been born to do and long ago he had decided there was
nothing he could do to stop his instincts. He followed Sam into the
first of the buildings and just stopped in the doorway, stunned by what
he saw. The whole place was open, no supporting walls and no pillars to
hold up the vast ceiling. His brain did take a fraction of a second to
wonder how it stayed up, but the rest was totally occupied by the
paintings that covered every wall.

Some of the paintings were abstract, and some were scenes. There was no
longer a question about the alien feel of the city -- the people who
had lived here were humanoid, but the crest ridges over the top of
their heads and the wide, colourful eyes showed they were definitely
not from Earth. The first thing Daniel noted was that the story on the
walls showed everything from birth to death, but there was not a
solitary battle. This building gave the anthropologist an underlying
sense of peace and it was actually quite a profound moment.

"Wow," Sam said as she looked around.

"Wow, maybe, Major," O'Neill responded, "but is this what we came for?"

Daniel forced down the retort that came to his lips and instead walked
further into the building. He was getting a picture of the people who
had lived here, and he was already almost sure about several things.

"I think we may be looking at a culture as or more advanced than the
Goa'uld," he voiced his opinion out loud before Jack could ask Carter
any more terse questions. "That looks like a depiction of space
flight," he pointed to his right, "and over there, I think anyway, is
something like a sarcophagus. In a primitive culture I'd say it was a
scene of magical healing, but with the rest of it I'd have to go with
some sort of medical miracle."

When he looked back at Jack, the officer didn't look very impressed.

"If they were so advanced why aren't they still here? How were they
driven away?" he asked pointedly.

"Daniel has a point, sir," Sam put in her two cents. "Look around," she
suggested, "do you see one picture of war? In many cultures it's the
warriors and heroes who are depicted in art. If these people were
peaceful it's possible they didn't defend themselves. They could have
been pacifists like the Nox."

To his credit Jack did glance up at the paintings again.

"Okay, point taken," he said, and Daniel had a sneaking suspicion that
the scientists of the group did actually have an effect on their leader
even if the Colonel would never admit it.

Daniel took the opportunity to wander off and look around. It was a
very beautiful building, even if part of the roof was missing and there
was rubble on the floor. He found an anthropologist's dream scratched
into the wall behind one of the large piles or stone. It wasn't part of
the design of the building, it was scratched into the bright red dress
of a character in one of the scenes. Daniel was peering at it so
intently that he didn't realise Sam had walked up behind him until she
leant over his shoulder to have a look.

"Anything you can translate?" she asked as he finally looked at her.
"It doesn't look similar to anything I've ever seen."

"Me either," the anthropologist admitted slowly as he glanced back at
the text. "Bits are almost familiar, but in this combination it's
unique in my experience."

The two studied it for a while longer and then O'Neill joined them.
Daniel tried to ignore him and get on with the job at hand, but Jack
had a way of being very present even when he wasn't saying anything.
The anthropologist could feel the officer's eyes burning a hole in the
back of his head.

"Well what's it say, Danny?" O'Neill finally asked in a totally
neutral, but unerringly annoying tone.

"I don't know," Daniel had to admit, and hoped he kept the pique out of
his voice.

"We should move on," Jack told them, "there might be more interesting
stuff than alien graffiti in some of those other buildings."

Daniel's patience was stretched very thin, but he managed to keep his
temper.

"This is interesting," he said and refused to look anywhere but at the
writing. "It isn't anything to do with the rest of the design it could
be important."

"Whatever makes you happy," O'Neill replied in an infuriatingly off-
hand tone. "You can stay here, Carter and I will go and look for other
junk."

Daniel chose not to reply and he didn't glance up until he was sure his
companions had at least reached the door. He knew Jack didn't really
mean anything by what he said, but it was so frustrating some times.
Shaking his head the anthropologist went about the task of recording
what he had found.

======================================================================

Daniel just stared at the text in front of him, and wondered for the
thousandth time what it said. He was supposed to be able to read
anything, but this, this language was a total mystery. He had no frame
of reference from which to decipher the script, he didn't even know
which way round it was supposed to be read. Daniel Jackson, the genius
translator, was stuck, totally and completely. The annoying thing was
that he was irrationally sure that he had to read what Jack seemed to
think was an irrelevant piece of gibberish. His friend's view was a
perfectly logical one, but all Daniel's instincts told him that the
text was important. 

SG-1 had found no other writing on their entire exhibition; lots of
pictures yes, but no writing. The current theory was that the
indigenous race had been at a point in their history where they had
kept all their texts on the machines that had been found destroyed in
various places. Daniel had tried to point out that they couldn't always
have done this and there should have been some sort of records, but he
was a small voice in a multitude. At least General Hammond had given
him leave to study the script for as long as it took.

It even looked vaguely familiar in parts; the problem was it didn't
actually seem to fit any particular pattern. Some of it was
pictographic, some was a little like cuneiform, and certain things
almost appeared interchangeable. Bits of the pictographs seemed to
contain parts of the symbol-based script, and there appeared to be some
significance to the way these were arranged, but it was such a huge
puzzle that it just didn't make any sense. It didn’t seem to have been
designed with anything like the human way of doing things. The alien
race that had left it behind was definitely different from anything SG-
1 had seen before.

Daniel took his glasses off and sat back in his chair, rubbing between
his eyes to try to return the vestiges of distance vision he had left
after years in academia. Bookwork just didn't seem to be helping, and
the leaps in logic that usually helped him with these things weren't
making themselves known. He had been working on this for two weeks, and
he was getting nowhere. SG-1 had already been on another mission,
leaving him behind so that he could continue his work. They had finally
let him take it off the base when he pointed out that he would work far
better with all his notebooks and reference texts around him. One over
zealous commander had suggested they ship the contents of his apartment
to SGC, but thankfully General Hammond had put a stop to that. If
Daniel couldn't translate it, it was very unlikely anyone else could,
and the military had finally had the sense to see this.

There were books all over the table, texts on everything that Daniel
had even remotely thought of when looking at the alien script. He was
coming to the conclusion that this race, whoever they were, might
actually have been to earth at some point and interacted with the
natives. There were things in some of the more obscure ancient
languages which seemed to reflect parts of what he was seeing. It
wasn't the type of evidence that had led him to the work that had
brought him to the Stargate project, but it was convincing to him, even
if another scholar would probably come up with an entirely different
view.

He picked up one book and turned it over in his hands, opening it and
just glancing at the first page to distract his over taxed brain. He
read the inscription and smiled slightly: -

To Daniel,
Never let them tell you your work is nonsense, they weren't there.
Adam

It had been so long since he had thought of his days before the
Stargate program; it seemed so far away now. Travelling to other worlds
had rather dwarfed the experience of his academic career. Adam had been
a good friend when no one else would even talk to him, a fellow
researcher, and the best linguist Daniel had ever met. They had found
each other purely by accident at a conference on the use of pictographs
in mesa American art. 

Daniel had been on the verge of taking off his nametag and trying to be
anonymous after two other delegates had tried to pick an academic fight
over some of his theories. Adam had popped up out of nowhere and taken
the other two anthropologists down a peg or two. They had spent the
rest of the conference in each other’s company. Daniel remembered Adam
having the strangest sense of humour as he laughed at some of the
oddest times. They had conversed in letters for ages after that. With a
guilty pang Daniel realised that he had never answered Adam’s last
letter that had been just after the Stargate program took over his
life. 

The anthropologist just sat there for a while looking at the spidery
handwriting before letting his eyes slip back to script he was
studying, and then it hit him. Adam Pierson was his answer. If anyone
could help him it was his old friend, and as he reached for the phone
he never even stopped to think that the military might not like what he
was about to do.

=====================================================================

"Is the Highlander at home?" Methos breezed into the dojo as if he
owned the place, and Richie gave up on his interrupted kata.

"He went DIY shopping about an hour ago," the younger Immortal replied
unenthusiastically, "he's planning on redecorating."

Richie saw the smirk work it's way into Methos' demeanour and he had to
put down the desire to wipe the expression off the five thousand year
old Immortal's.

"Then I chose the right time to pick up my stuff," he announced with
completely irritating cheer, and headed for the elevator.

Richie followed--he'd almost finished his workout anyway, and Methos
might have been annoying, but he was at least more interesting than an
empty dojo.

The ancient man just stood there as the machine took them to the loft
and his silence finally goaded Richie into a question. "What stuff?" he
asked.

"Books," Methos replied, "I left them here, oh, about two years ago
now. I was moving ...I think. Been meaning to come and get them for
ages."

Richie raised an eyebrow, if there was one thing he had learned it was
that Methos didn't do anything unless he had a reason, and he was
curious.

"If they've been here this long," he said slowly, "why now?"

The other Immortal grinned, and for a moment Richie thought he wasn't
going to tell him.

"I had a call from an old friend," Methos told him, "and I need them.
I'm going on a road trip."

The elevator reached its destination and the two men walked out.

"Anywhere nice?" Richie enquired.

"Nowhere special," Methos replied.

The ancient Immortal made a beeline for a trunk in the corner of the
room, and Richie was left to survey the loft. Most of the furniture was
covered in polythene, and there were paint drip sheets everywhere. This
time MacLeod was serious about redecorating, and Richie just knew he
was going to be landed with all the really dirty jobs.

"Why doesn't he just get the decorators in?" Methos mused, changing the
subject back to MacLeod. "It's not as if he doesn’t have enough money."

"You know Mac," Richie replied, imagining all sorts of tortures the
Highlander could find for him, "a man's home is his castle."

"Four walls and a roof if you're lucky," the other Immortal commented
cynically, "and castles were not all they're cut up to be. If there's
someone else who can do it make sure they do, that's my philosophy. Of
course when you get to my age there are some things that you just have
to do yourself..."

"Fancy some company?" Richie said on impulse, interrupting the ancient
man's flow of words: anything had to be better than gallons of paint
and varnish, even Methos.

His companion looked up from where he was rummaging, he expression
appeared genuinely surprised.

"If I stay here I'll be sanding for the rest of my life," Richie told
his companion, hoping that the puppy dog look would work on Methos this
one time.

"You can come if you want," Methos told him, the Old Man was obviously
in a generous mood, "but you'll probably be bored out of your tiny
mind. Daniel is an expert in ancient languages."

"Anywhere is better than here," Richie replied.

"When the Highlander is on a mission you could be right," Methos
agreed. "If that house was anything to go by, you're safer anywhere but
here. Stand still long enough and he'll paint you."

=====================================================================

Nobody had seen Daniel in days, and even though O'Neill would never
tell his friend, he missed him when he wasn't around. Jack kept up the
facade of military man, fixed on the mission, no time for talking, but
he found Daniel's continual quest for knowledge stimulating. Sometimes
he could be annoying, especially when he was right, but the team didn't
feel complete without him. When Carter had suggested they go see how
their friend was getting on with the translation, Jack had readily
agreed. What they had found when they reached Daniel's apartment was a
man knee deep in paper, and less than happy about life.

Daniel waved them all through the door and kicked several pieces of
paper out of his path as he headed for the table. He was definitely
distracted, and Jack was almost sure he'd been wearing the clothes he
was in for a couple of days straight. They had that crumpled; we've-
been-slept-in look that O'Neill remembered from occasions in his own
past.

"Ah, there's fresh coffee on in the kitchen," the anthropologist said
absently, "help yourselves. I just have to go change."

Then he turned and left them standing there, almost as if he'd
forgotten they existed.

"I don't think I've seen him this spaced since he was working on the
gate glyphs," Jack commented and headed for the inviting smell of
coffee.

"Looks like he's really into this," Sam commented as she followed her
commanding officer. "Wonder how it's going."

Jack just shrugged and tried to find some clean mugs. It looked like
everything Daniel had eaten over the past however long was from a
packet and there were enough water filled mugs in the sink to fill two
cupboards. In the end O'Neill washed a few of them up and Sam dried
them.

They wandered back into the living room with four steaming coffees to
find Teal'c peering at the mess on the table. Jack walked over and
looked down, staring at the hand drawn copy of the alien writing. The
first thing he wondered was whether he was looking at it the right way
up. Finding it just a jumble of shapes he switched to glancing over
Daniel's notes, and was equally bemused. At a guess the anthropologist
had been using shorthand, alternatively it could have just been a bunch
of tiny little lines. There were two options, keep looking and try and
appear as if it was something he could even remotely understand, or
admit defeat and just give up. Since the little squiggles threatened to
start moving he took the later option and decided to focus on his
coffee. It wasn't long before Daniel reappeared. He even seemed to have
managed to shower in the short time he'd been away: O'Neill was
impressed.

"So how's it going," Jack asked as his friend wandered back into the
room.

"Do you want what I've been telling General Hammond or the truth?"
Daniel replied wearily.

"That bad?" Sam sounded sympathetic.

"It's so complex," the scientist told her, and Jack recognised the
excited look appear in Daniel's eyes: they were in for the works. "I've
never seen anything quite like it. It a very beautiful looking
language, but there are fifty seven different symbols in what seem like
almost random sequences."

O'Neill breathed a sigh of relief as the doorbell interrupted his
friend's monologue. For a moment Daniel looked as if he was confused by
what had stopped him, but with a shake of his head he walked towards
the door. Jack was sure he'd never quite understand intellectuals. He
watched as Daniel peered through the spy hole, and saw the younger
man's whole demeanour change. The anthropologist's face lit up and he
almost missed the door handle in his eagerness to reach it.

"Adam, you made it," Daniel greeted almost before he'd swung back the
door.

The anthropologist never really talked about life outside the Stargate
project, and he'd definitely never mentioned a friend called Adam. The
way Daniel was reacting; it was like his best friend had just come back
from the dead. As his friend moved slightly to the left Jack caught his
first glimpse of the new arrival. O'Neill was quite surprised to see
two people; a tall dark haired man in a long overcoat and a slightly
shorter blond man hovering.

"With a puzzle this interesting, how could I refuse," the dark haired
spoke and proved himself to be Adam. "This is Richie, I hope you don't
mind me bringing him along."

"No problem," Daniel replied, "come in both of you."

There was no logical reason for Jack's hackles to be up, but as he saw
Daniel's friends something bothered him. For some reason he couldn't
quite explain both men, but especially Adam, set his teeth on edge.
Maybe he'd been in the military too long, maybe gating from world to
world was making him paranoid, but he couldn't shake the feeling. 

When Daniel turned back, it was quite obvious he hadn't thought through
the situation to that point and the half-unsure look that so often
shaped his expression appeared.

"Adam, ah, Richie," the archaeologist began, "these are some of my
colleagues. Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter and Teal'c. Guys, I'd like you to
meet an old friend of mine from my purely academic days."

"Nice to meet you," Adam had a disarmingly pleasant smile, and Jack
found himself smiling back as the stranger spoke, even before he
realised it.

The kid Adam had called Richie hung back looking a little awkward, and
the way he scanned the room reminded Jack of a trapped rabbit--the
Colonel corrected himself, no he didn't look that helpless, maybe a
trapped cat. Now that he was getting over the surprise that Daniel had
other friends, O'Neill was beginning to take stock of the situation.
His eyes wandered to the papers scattered on the table, and back to
Daniel: he had a sneaking suspicion.

"Academic as in also a linguist?" he asked slowly.

"Yeah," the anthropologist replied, oblivious to the veiled question
under the one he was answering, "Adam and I met at a conference a few
years ago. He’s one of the two people in my field who will still talk
to me."

The anthropologist was so pleased to see his old friend that it took a
few seconds for him to realise Jack did not look equally happy. O'Neill
saw the light dawn and Daniel began to look a little sheepish.

"Okay," he admitted eventually, "yes he's here about the script. I
can't translate the writing alone, and Adam is the only other person
who could help me. He's the best of the rest."

Jack had a sinking feeling.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but do I sense classified in this
conversation?" Adam didn't appear to be very worried.

O'Neill could feel the frown knitting his brows, and he made no effort
to remove it.

"I'll take that as a ‘yes’," was the stranger's matter-of-fact
response.

"Jack, if we want this translated, we need Adam," Daniel tone left
little room for argument.

Alarm bells were going off in O'Neill's head, but one thing he did know
was that his friend wouldn't lie to him. Daniel was being perfectly
honest, which left them in a quandary.

"If it's so vital why didn't you go through Hammond?" he asked
pointedly.

"And wait a year until the powers that be come back with a no," Daniel
replied, "you may not have noticed this but Adam isn't a US citizen and
some of our colleagues get nervous at that."

"Guys," Sam stepped in, "let's not fight in front of the guests."

The sarcasm got to them both, and Jack saw Daniel lose his obstinate
look, as he himself tried to reign in his training. He was calming
himself down when he noticed that Adam's attention had wandered away
from him and was now focused on Teal'c. The Jaffa was wearing his hat
as usual since he was off base, and although Teal'c was quite large and
an eye catching individual this seemed too slight a reason to be
causing what appeared to be intense interest. What made Jack start to
feel edgy was that Adam was not staring at Teal'c face, he was looking
straight at the other man's chest. When the sharp piercing gaze flicked
upwards and peered under the rim of the Jaffa's hat to where a fleck of
gold was just visible, O'Neill's alarm bells started ringing.

Something was definitely wrong, and this time Jack wasn't trying to
ignore his instincts. He glanced around and everyone else in the room
had noticed Adam's interest: the other two human contingent of the SG-1
team looked vaguely nervous and the rest of the room didn't appear too
comfortable either. The only person who looked calm was Teal'c and he
didn't count because he only had one everyday expression. Daniel looked
awkward; Sam definitely didn't like the situation; even Richie appeared
uneasy about something and had moved closer to Adam. As for the
mysterious source of the tension himself, the dark haired man had a
frown rapidly growing on his face. O'Neill was absolutely positive none
of this was good.

Richie had felt awkward just entering the apartment; once what sounded
like government involvement had been announced he was even less happy;
now Methos was acting strangely and everything was going down hill. The
guy introduced as Teal'c might have a funny name, and he didn't look
like someone you'd want to meet on a dark night, but that didn't
explain the ancient Immortal's behaviour. Methos was always calm and
collected; Richie had almost never seen him thrown by anything. He was
five thousand years old for heaven's sake: what he hadn't seen didn't
need mentioning. His dispassionate approach could be as annoying as
hell, but Methos' current reaction was far more worrying.

The younger Immortal found himself wishing he was anywhere but where he
was, that was, until he actually looked hard at Teal'c. Something
stirred at the back of his mind as he let his paranoia go for a second
and considered the situation. It was totally weird, and he had no idea
what was happening, but he felt something. It was so faint that if
Methos had not been acting so strangely he would never have noticed,
but part of him knew Teal'c was not all he seemed. For some reason he
could not fathom his eyes moved slowly to the bottom of the guy's
chest. This whole situation was just too freaky.

To anyone who didn't know him Methos probably looked relaxed, but
Richie knew the ancient man was nothing of the sort. If he had not
clamped down on his fighting instinct the younger Immortal would have
been reaching for his sword. Methos then surprised the whole room by
saying one word.

"Jaffa."

It came out in such a tone of derision that there was totally stunned
silence, even from Richie who really didn't know what his friend was
talking about. Several faces looked as if they were trying to come up
with something to say, but it was Teal'c who spoke.

"How did you know?"

Richie lost the conversation there as Methos said something that
sounded to him like complete gibberish. Teal'c just looked at him, and
then replied, also in the same incomprehensible language.

"Adam, what do you mean? Why did you refer to yourself as the enemy,"
Daniel had translated the conversation, but he didn't look as if he
understood it.

"What are you doing working with them?" Methos replied, sounding very
unhappy and pointing at the six foot something black guy in a way
Richie thought was probably unwise. "Tell me they're not back."

The archaeologist looked speechless, and Richie was totally confused.
Methos was acting very un-Methos like: he never talked in straight
lines if circles would do, but he was being nothing if not plain.
Richie might not understand what was going on, but he was sure everyone
else did.

"Teal'c is on our side," was what Daniel eventually said. "No they're
not back."

Methos' eye opened wide as if he'd just realised something and then he
frowned again.

"Please say you didn't help someone open the Gate of the Gods," the
ancient Immortal said, and Richie gave up trying to understand any of
the conversation.

Daniel seemed to be about to say something, but the linguist's friends
did not seem interested in that and Richie knew trouble when he saw it.
The O'Neill guy was looking dangerous, and for the first time the
Immortal wondered if the other man's jacket might hide more than a
shirt.

"What do you know about the Stargate, and where did you find out?" the
man Richie was positive was military stepped forward.

"I know it was buried for a very good reason," Methos' voice was angry,
"and I know it cost thousands of lives to do it. Putting it back
together has to be a particularly modern arrogance. There were wars
fought over that thing, and it should have stayed shut."

There was something unnerving about Teal’c and Richie found his eyes
drawn back to the big man. It wasn't really his size or his deadpan
expression, Richie had faced worse in his short Immortal career, and he
couldn't work out why the guy spooked him. However, his scrutiny was
rewarded by the view of Teal'c's face actually moving for something
other than speech. From the new expression Richie figured Methos'
diatribe had sparked a memory.

"The Enemy," Teal'c spoke slowly as if piecing together fragments of
thought. "There are legends of the Tau'ri, of men who were not like
their brothers. They walked with fallen gods and led humans in
rebellion against the true gods. They are forbidden tales. These men
were known as the Enemy."

"Are you a part of some secret society?" Daniel seemed to be trying to
rationalise what he was hearing. "Are there people out there who know
about the Stargate."

Methos was calming down, at least on the outside, and he looked at the
others in the room with disdain.

"Don't worry, I'm all that's left," the ancient Immortal said coldly.
"No one else remembers."

Richie watched as Methos pushed his way past O'Neill towards the table
and looked down at the papers. Since he already knew so much the
military man obviously decided it wasn't worth stopping him.

"This is incredible," Daniel had a weird look in his eye, and even
though his friends were anxious, he looked of all things, excited.
"Where did you learn about the Stargate? Did you know about it before
we were at school together?"

"Oh, way before," Methos returned, "let's just say it has a lot to do
with my knowledge of ancient languages."

Richie didn't like the situation one little bit, but at least as Methos
glanced at the papers on the desk he seemed to relax a little. The
younger Immortal was almost beginning to hope they might be able to
salvage the situation. He'd thought about making his escape several
times, but he wasn't about to leave Methos, and besides, being chased
by the very large black guy was not top of his to-do list. He was also
curious about what the hell was going on. So far he knew that Methos
thought Teal'c was not a good guy; that he was something called a
Jaffa; and that everybody here was involved with something called a
Stargate. It was a lot of information; unfortunately it was all
completely useless without some explanation.

"You can read it?" Daniel had watched Methos scan the transcript of the
writing they had found, and it hadn't been difficult to realise the Old
Man understood it: even Richie could tell that.

"I'm a bit rusty," Methos told his friend, "but yes I can read it. This
is the language of the Lenerai. They were on earth before the Goa'uld
and they tried to help humanity when it was invaded. Unfortunately they
were a peaceful people, they only evacuated communities in danger from
the Goa'uld, and they had no offensive capabilities. Shu and Tefnut
wiped out their planet in 1500 BC by our calendar. The last known
Lenerai died helping lead the rebellion on Earth, but it's possible
some of them are still alive out there. This is from their home, and
warns any visitors of their fate, and the danger of the Goa'uld."

Daniel was slacked jawed and Richie had to admit that he was impressed
as well. The one person who didn't look at all thrilled was O'Neill.

"Okay, right now I don't care what it says," the man announced to the
room in general. "This is all classified information, and I don't know
who's telling the truth about what, but I'm going to find out. We're
taking this to SG command, and I'm not taking no for an answer."

Richie didn't know what exactly SG command was, or where it happened to
be, but the idea of not having a choice but to go there, worried him.
The fact that the only other person in the room who looked slightly
anxious about the idea was Daniel also caused the young Immortal some
concern. Methos for his part just turned around and looked at the
military man. The ancient Immortal's anger and momentary lack of
control had passed, and he gave the impression that he was totally in
charge of the situation.

"If you insist," he said calmly.

Richie just knew he was in big trouble. The fact that he was wearing
his slightly longer leather jacket, and hence was carrying his sword
with him was no longer as comforting as it had been. He had considered
leaving it in the car, but where Methos was concerned you could never
be too sure what you were walking into. When they had begun their walk
to the apartment it had seemed like a sensible precaution, now Richie
thought he might have been wrong.

"Okay, I have absolutely no idea what is going on here," the Immortal
finally said.

"Too bad, kid," O'Neill told him, "because you're along for the ride."

It took some effort, but Richie managed to bite back the retort that
came to his lips at the "kid" comment. Opening his mouth now would most
likely get him into even more trouble, and no matter what Mac might
think Richie had actually learnt some restraint over the past few
years. The day was turning out to be a very bad one; Richie just prayed
it wasn't going to get any worse.

=====================================================================

O'Neill seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and with military
efficiency he separated Methos from Richie. The older Immortal, Daniel
and Teal'c were in one car, and Richie was in the other with O'Neill
and Sam. Richie decided it wasn't such a bad arrangement as he found
himself in the back seat next to the rather attractive woman. Her whole
attitude screamed military, from the way she seemed to be assessing him
the moment she sat down to the fact that she kept looking to O'Neill
for guidance. Richie knew he had a weakness for a pretty face, and he
tried to clamp down on his hormones by reminding himself constantly
that she was of The Establishment. It was difficult when The
Establishment looked quite so good.

They drove in silence for a good five minutes, but it appeared that Sam
wasn't as military as her companion, because she didn't seem
particularly comfortable just sitting there not saying anything.

"Where are you from?" she finally asked, and Richie saw O'Neill's eyes
flick to the rear view mirror.

"Seacouver," Richie replied--he didn't see much point in keeping it a
secret. These people could locate his file any time they felt like it,
he knew how the system worked. "It's near Seattle."

"Lived there long?" was Sam's next question.

"As long as I can remember," the Immortal returned hoping his mouth
wouldn't run away with him. "I've moved around a bit the past few
years, but I always end up back there; bit like a homing pigeon."

His back seat companion smiled at that, and Richie found himself
smiling back. Sam seemed pleasant enough, and she wasn't radiating
suspicion out of every pore like O'Neill. If she hadn't been part of
his escort to what was probably a military base, Richie might even have
hit on her. As it was, a mantra started in the back of his mind,
telling him she was not to be trusted.

"Home is where the heart is," she said lightly. "If you don't mind me
asking, how do you know, Adam Pierson?"

It was obvious that she was fishing for information, but Richie decided
it was better here than when they reached their destination.

"We have a mutual friend," he explained, "and we bumped into each other
one day. I wouldn’t call us best buddies or anything, I'm only here
because otherwise I'd be sanding our mutual friend's floor.
Redecorating with my friends can be scary."

Sam's grin became wider.

"I have friends like that too," she told him and the little voice in
the back of his mind dimmed worryingly.

She glanced forward and Richie tried to look as if he wasn't noticing
the silent signals going on between his escorts.

"So you really have no idea what's going on here?" it was half
question, half statement.

"Not a clue," Richie replied truthfully, "when Adam opened his mouth he
surprised me as much as you. Then again you know Adam long enough you
come to expect things like this. Weirdness is a way of life with my
friends. For all I know you could have just stepped off another
planet."

Sam went quiet, and the Immortal knew he'd said something, but he
wasn't sure what. She covered quickly, but her body language spoke
volumes even if she didn't. The mantra in his head came back to full
volume. Richie began to contemplate what had actually been going on,
and he started to think about the things Methos had said. It was
beginning to dawn on him that maybe the Old Man's comments about Earth,
and different races weren't just figures of speech. Stargate, suddenly
made sense and Richie came to the conclusion that it was his comment
about other planets that had cause Sam's momentary discomfort. This
wasn't about ancient cultures; this was about aliens.

"Do you even know anything about languages?" Sam was just making small
talk now, but Richie decided to play along.

"Wouldn't know Sanskrit from Swahili," he replied, and tried to look as
relaxed as if he hadn't just had his world turned on it's head, again.

They chatted for a while about nothing, Sam always digging for
information, Richie giving it and then steering her away from subjects
he didn't want to discus. It was when the Immortal saw the base that he
began to feel anxiety again. It was literally built into a mountain,
and it had top security written all over it. Richie began to pray that
they wouldn't search their "guests": he hadn't been able to come up
with an excuse for the sword. He didn't think they'd buy the old line
about being a dealer, or a courier. Then again if the worst came to the
worst what else could he say.

=====================================================================

Okay so the courier line just wouldn't wash, especially since both
Richie and Methos had been carrying their swords. Metal detectors were
an Immortal’s worst nightmare, and the base had soldiers carrying hand
held ones. The weapons had been confiscated and both Immortals had been
escorted to a locked room where they had been left.

"Way to go on ruining a vacation, Old Man," Richie said sarcastically,
and pointedly ignored the camera looking at him.

"Calm down," Methos shot back evenly, "this is more important than just
us. They need my help, they'll have to let us out of here eventually,
because it's more important than the US military as well."

Richie glared at his companion.

"They'll have to let you out," he said pointedly, "but what about me?
Thanks to the swords, Major Carter," the various ranks of their captors
had been revealed when they'd entered the facility, "thinks everything
I told her on the way here is a bag of lies. They think we're part of a
big conspiracy to do with this Stargate thing." He paused. "What is the
Stargate anyway?"

"It's a device for travelling to different worlds," Methos told him.
"Unfortunately it was taken over by a rather nasty race several
millennia ago, and the one on Earth was buried to keep them away. An
archaeologist dug it up again in the forties, and the last I heard
their experiments had failed. If I'd known the US government had
started the program again I would have tried to find out more about it.
The Goa'ulds could quite easily wipe this planet off the face of the
universe."

Richie let the information sink in, and tried to make himself come to
terms with the situation.

"You know," he finally said, "I wish, just once that my life could be
simple."

Methos actually smiled.

"Just play dumb and let me do the talking," were the words of wisdom he
offered.

=====================================================================

The two swords lay on the table as silent accusers, and Richie stood in
awkward silence beside Methos. The room was large, and was obviously
some sort of conference room. They'd been introduced to General
Hammond, and Daniel and company were seated around the table. Richie
was beginning to feel like a criminal dragged in front of the judge,
and he had never liked that sensation.

"Would you care to explain these?" Hammond said in a bland tone that
belied the expression on his face.

Richie just looked at him and kept his mouth shut: this was Methos'
party.

"An old tradition," the ancient Immortal said calmly. "The swords are a
heritage nothing more."

"To do with your knowledge of the Stargate I suppose," Hammond
continued with equal dispassion.

This time Methos just nodded.

"Mr Ryan claims no knowledge of the Stargate, Mr Pierson," the General
stated evenly, "and yet he carried a weapon like yours."

Out of the corner of his eye, Richie saw Methos smile, and he tried to
appear as calm as his ancient friend.

"Training comes first, knowledge later," the older Immortal told those
in the room. "I will need a successor, since I am not going to live
forever," Methos' tone was dismissive and Richie hoped his face didn't
give the other man away. "I've been lax in finding someone to teach.
Richie knew he was joining a fraternity, but he had no idea about the
Stargate."

The General was silent for a moment, and fixed Methos and then Richie
with his gaze.

"Is this true?" he looked Richie straight in the eye and demanded an
answer.

The young Immortal knew he was not a good liar, so he chose to tell the
literal truth.

"I really didn't know anything," he said, hoping his voice wouldn't
betray just how nervous he felt. "I still don't know exactly what's
going on, but I'd be lying if I told you I didn’t have my suspicions."

The frankness of the reply had an effect on Hammond, and he nodded as
he heard it. He appeared to be a man who respected honesty.

"Colonel O'Neill and his team tell me that you know more about the
origins of the Stargate than we do," the General turned his attention
back to Methos.

"That's possible," the ancient Immortal replied, "but I don't know what
you know so I couldn't be sure. Man's history is very incomplete, and
some facts were hidden for a reason. Some people chose not to forget,
however, and the knowledge has been passed on. The fact that there were
aliens on this planet several thousand years ago is one of those pieces
of information, that there was more than one species is another. I
could tell you where and when the rebellion against the Goa'uld
started, and how long it took, but that's not really relevant at this
present time."

Richie watched as Methos swept his eyes around the table, making sure
he had everyone's attention.

"What is relevant is what that text you recovered tells you," he
continued. "It's a general warning about the Goa'uld, but it's also a
warning about the two who destroyed the Lenerai's planet. If I may ask
where did you find the text?"

"That information is classified," Hammond replied without hesitation.

"Then let me just say," Methos continued, appearing not at all
surprised by the response, "if you found it on a desolated world you've
probably found the Lenerai's home, and if so you've probably alerted
Shu and Tefnut to your presence. The text talks of a never-ending
vigilance for signs of Lenerai survivors so that they may be hunted
down. It's possible you may have gained the attention of two very nasty
Goa'uld."

That definitely held everyone's attention.

"Just who are Shu and Tefnut?" Hammond was looking at Daniel.

Richie was interested as well, and even though this still sounded like
an episode of the twilight zone, so much of his recent life had been
strange that he did not even question it.

"The twin lion gods," Daniel didn't appear to have any trouble with the
explanation, "Shu the male, god of dryness, Tefnut the female, goddess
of moisture and humidity. In the older texts they are the children of
Amen the creator, but in later texts such as the book of the dead they
are described as the children of Ra and Hathor."

The SGC personnel were looking at each other meaningfully.

"Well there's no way they could get in here," O'Neill said confidently.

"But SG-2 are investigating the site," Sam reminded them all.

Hammond held up his hand.

"Escort our guests back to their room," he instructed the two guards
beside the door.

Richie knew his observation of the situation was over.

=====================================================================

SG-3 had been through the gate, they had conferred with SG-2, nothing
was wrong. There was no sign of life on P3X157, and no sign that anyone
was looking for any. SG-3 had returned and that left SGC with a
mystery. Four hours after the original meeting, SG-1 and General
Hammond were once again around the briefing table.

"But why would he lie?" Daniel felt the need to defend his friend after
the General had shown them the reports.

"Maybe to throw us off," O'Neill's answer wasn't what Daniel really
wanted to hear, but it wasn't completely impossible either, "gain some
time."

The linguist couldn't think of a good answer, and it was unsettling not
to be able to trust a man who was his friend.

"Just how well do you know Pierson?" Hammond addressed Daniel directly.

"We spent three years working together," Daniel replied earnestly. "He
was the only one who didn't immediately tell me I was insane when I
started to form some of my theories. He even backed me up with the
funding body once or twice. He's a good friend or I never would have
called him in the first place."

The General raised one eyebrow at that comment, and Daniel knew that he
had not heard the end of the consequences of that action. At the
present time, however, they had other worries.

"Well until we can ascertain the truth of Pierson's statements,"
Hammond told them all, "I've recalled SG-2. They should be returning on
the hour. Jackson I want you to work with Pierson until you have a
working knowledge of this new language. I assume you could tell if he
was making it up."

Daniel nodded: it would be almost impossible for Adam to falsify the
text if he was teaching the syntax and semantics.

"Colonel O'Neill, you work on Ryan," Hammond continued. "Make friends,
see what you can find out. Take him to the mess hall or any other low
security parts of the base, whatever you see fit. I want answers
people, and I want them quickly."

The look on Jack's face clearly said that he wasn't very happy with the
assignment, but Daniel saw him bite back his objections. With the mood
the General was in, subtlety was the best policy.

"Teal'c, Major Carter, confer with SG-2 when they return, look over
their logs and make sure nothing was missed," their commander finished.
"Dismissed."

Everyone left the room as quickly as possible.

=====================================================================

O'Neill did not like playing baby-sitter, but he could see the
reasoning behind the General's order. Pierson acted as if he was
perfectly calm and in control of the situation; he would be a hard nut
to crack, but the kid let every thought flow across his face. Relax him
a little and Ryan might actually let something slip. 

Jack was not happy, but he managed a vaguely friendly expression when
he walked into the room where Ryan was being kept. He had waited until
Daniel had been along and moved Pierson, and he had to admit that the
kid was looking a little dejected when he walked in. The background
check had so far come up with a juvenile record, an age and a list of
foster homes: the young man's recent history seemed to be a little more
difficult to track down. That he was nearly 24 had been quite a
surprise when Jack had skipped through the kid's file, come to think of
it he was going to have to stop thinking of Ryan as a kid. He had the
face of a teenager, but he clearly wasn't.

"Hi," Jack opened the conversation when the "guest" looked up, "I
suppose you're having a bad day."

"That's an understatement," Richie replied, and O'Neill decided
dejected was also an understatement.

"Well, I can't guarantee that it's going to get much better," Jack told
him, almost feeling something for the puppy dog eyes, "but I am allowed
to let you out of this room. How does lunch sound?"

"You serious?" the question was wary and Jack noted that this guy
seemed to have a healthy suspicion of authority.

Ryan's expression was edgy, but he didn't look as if he was going to
refuse out right. O'Neill registered the fact that the kid seemed to
prefer anything but being locked up. Well even a Special Forces trained
Colonel could sympathise with that. Considering his background, O'Neill
couldn't blame him. Ryan's file was nothing if not interesting, and his
juvenile record had probably given him a lot of experience with The
Establishment.

"As I ever am," Jack told his charge. "Now the mess food is as likely
to kill you as nourish you, but most of us take our chances."

Ryan grinned at that and managed to look even more like a kid.

"Well I'm just about hungry enough to risk it," the young man replied,
"but I warn you when I start to eat I've been known to cause a famine."

O'Neill found himself grinning back before he realised it and decided
that maybe he was going to have to watch this kid a bit more closely
than he had thought. Ryan's wit and unorthodox manner could be
disarming.

"Well this way then," Jack told him and indicated the door, "I'll tell
you to close your eyes if we go past anything top secret."

Richie rolled his eyes and Jack congratulated himself on a sharp move
as he saw the young man let his guard down just a touch more.

The two men made their way to what served as a mess hall 28 floors down
inside a mountain, and O'Neill was surprised to find out that Ryan had
not been exaggerating too much when it came to how much he could eat.
They talked as they ate and Jack found that Richie was shrewder than he
would have given him credit for. He diverted questions with much more
skill than O'Neill expected, and on his part he didn't ask any probing
questions of his own. He asked the odd thing, but it was all harmless
small talk, as if he was making sure Jack knew he was not a threat.
Ryan did let slip that he had ridden motorcycles on the professional
circuit for a while, and he'd travelled extensively over Europe.
O'Neill made mental notes of anything that Intelligence might find
useful in a background check, and made small talk for the rest.

By the end of the meal, Jack was actually beginning to believe that
Richie was as clueless about the Stargate as he had claimed to be. As
they walked back towards the bunkroom cum holding cell, O'Neill had to
admit that if the situation had been different he could actually like
the kid. Jack was just considering trying to find something else for
them to do so he could learn more about his companion, when a Sergeant
accosted them.

"General Hammond wants to see you in the briefing room, sir," the young
woman told O'Neill brusquely with practised efficiency. "I've been
ordered to take the," she almost said 'prisoner', but caught herself
when Jack glared at her, "guest back to the secure area."

"Very well, sergeant," O'Neill replied, "treat him nicely."

=====================================================================

O'Neill had just reached the bottom of the stairs in the briefing
lounge when the klaxon sounded to announce that someone was coming
though the Stargate. Everyone in the room, including Daniel, Carter,
Teal'c and the General looked through the now-open blast shield towards
the control room and the gate.

"Party has SG-2's signature," the controller announced before anyone
could react. "Iris deactivated."

The Gate room itself contained four marines on semi-alert, and a whole
group of technicians to help with the equipment SG-2 would be bringing
back with them.

"At least now we can ask those on the ground exactly what they found,"
Daniel commented, and Jack realised he had missed an earlier
conversation.

"Get SG-2 up here as soon as they've handed over their gear," Hammond
ordered through the intercom. "I want to know if what you found,
Carter, was a glitch or whether we may have attracted some unwanted
attention."

The Stargate burst into life and flicked with its strange watery sound.
What stepped through was not what anyone watching was expecting. Two
Jaffa in lion head shaped helmets were the first revealed, and they
took down the marines without a second thought. All the alarms sounded
and the blast shield started to come down automatically. The last thing
O'Neill was able to see were three more figures appearing from the
gate. Another Jaffa carrying what looked like the body of one of SG-2,
and what had to be two Goa'uld.

With training that had been instilled into Jack over years he took in
every detail he could with one glance. One of the Goa'uld was female,
the other male. She wore a headdress in the style of a lioness, which
framed her cold but beautiful face, he a circlet with two feathers
moulded in metal. O'Neill was trying to get a better look as the shield
blocked the view completely. Before it finally shut there was the sound
of numerous staff weapons being discharged.

=====================================================================

The facility was shutting down faster than a turtle into its shell. The
sergeant had drawn her gun the moment the alarm had sounded and she had
moved Richie into a side corridor. She took hold of Richie's arm and he
had the distinct impression that a bull elephant couldn't have stopped
her taking him wherever she wanted him to go. Richie didn't even try
and stop her, but they didn't make it more than a few feet: The lights
dimmed, sparked, and the junction box beside both of them exploded. The
last thing Richie felt was heat, and then there was complete blackness.

=====================================================================

"I guess, Adam was telling the truth," Daniel said as the fail-safes
went into action around them.

"Are we to assume that these are Shu and Tefnut, Doctor?" Hammond asked
as he was handed a print out of stills from the close circuit cameras.
The surveillance devices had been destroyed, but not before they picked
up some nice close ups.

Daniel nodded. "An exact match," he told everyone in the room. "Shu is
usually shown with between one and four feathers on his head, and you
all saw the big cat touches. Tefnut usually has the head of a lioness."
He peered at the pictures the General had placed on the desk. "My god,
they have golden eyes."

"All Goa'ulds have funny eyes," O'Neill pointed out.

"No look," Daniel insisted and pointed at a particularly good still of
Tefnut, "they've changed their eye colour: it’s like a cat."

"And teeth," Sam offered as she leant over, "look at this, they have
fangs."

She was indicating a shot of the triumphant looking Shu smiling at the
chaos around him.

"These people really like the old lions, don't they," Jack said, his
tone more than a little sarcastic.

"Maybe they got caught up in their own propaganda," Daniel mused aloud,
"anyway, it doesn't seem that these Goa'ulds have changed their images
lately."

The General didn't waste any time.

"Get down there, Colonel," he ordered, "and make sure they don't get
out of that room. We have to contain this situation, or this mountain
is the last place any of us with ever see."

Just as Jack ran to the stairs yet another alarm sounded.

"Stargate closed," one of the controllers announced, "but they brought
through at least another ten people. They used something we haven't
seen on the door, they're into the main complex."

=====================================================================
 
It had only been five minutes since the original break through the
Stargate, but already there was chaos. The intruders had split into two
groups and they were causing havoc. One group seemed to be almost
suicidal, and they were attacking anything that moved. This included
air conditioning, and cameras as well as the humans they came across.

The other group, which included Shu and Tefnut, were working their way
to a goal, which seemed to be anything and everything to do with the
control of the facility. The defenders could only guess that someone,
possibly members of SG-2, had given them information on the layout of
the facility. The marines seemed to be having better luck at keeping
this group under control, the Jaffa were protecting their royal
commanders as well as fighting, and it slowed them down. They had with
them three of the technicians from the Gate room and they were using
them as shields whenever the need arose.

Shu was not pleased, not pleased at all. The initial intelligence had
revealed that the technology of these humans should have been no match
for theirs, and yet they were not winning as swiftly as he wanted. It
seemed that maybe Apophis had not been trying to cover his own bungling
with the reports he had sent to his brethren. Apophis and Shu had never
been friends, although they were not open enemies, and Shu had assumed
his royal cousin had been either covering up his incompetence or hiding
something about the humans. All the observations from most sources had
shown that humans could not match Goa'ulds, but they seemed to be doing
just that.

"We must regroup," he ordered suddenly, and stepped over the charred
remains of one of the enemy. "This enterprise is not going as planned."

Tefnut turned and her brother saw the momentary anger in her eyes: they
glowed with Goa'uld power, but she soon contained her wrath.

"You are right, beloved," she said, calming herself, "maybe we have
miscalculated."

There was a groan from Shu's feet and he looked down. It seemed the
body on the ground wasn't as dead as it had seemed. His golden eyes
scanned the burnt face, and he almost raised his hand to put the
creature out of its misery. It wasn't from any feeling of compassion;
Shu just enjoyed reminding himself of his own supremacy every now and
then. A spark of blue fire stopped him, and something very unexpected
happened; part of the injury on the human healed.

"My love," Shu said slowly, "look at the slave."

Tefnut looked down, but there was contempt in her eyes, only when the
blue spark appeared again did she really take notice.

"He heals so quickly," she commented. "Our intelligence from Apophis'
campaign did not mention this. This enterprise may not have been
fruitless after all."

"Jaffa, carry the slave, we are returning through the gate," Shu
ordered without pausing.

"As you command, Master," the nearest guards responded and effortlessly
threw the charred human over his shoulder.

The other Jaffa began clearing their way back to the gate room, which
took the marines by surprise. Taken off guard by the sudden change in
objective, the soldiers really didn't stand much of a chance.

"They do not use our technology to activate the Stargate," Tefnut
pointed out as the royal party moved towards their escape, "how will we
remove ourselves from this place."

Shu smiled and glanced at the three terrified technicians they were
still dragging along.

"They will value these lives," the Goa'uld told his companion with a
smile, "we will bargain, using them to gain our return home. It is not
difficult to fool humans."

=====================================================================

O'Neill stormed into the control room.

"They just broke back into the gate room," he told the General, more
than a little exasperated. "They just turned around and fought their
way back in."

"But that can't use the gate," Daniel pointed out, blissfully ignoring
military protocol as usual.

"Quite right, doctor," Hammond concluded, "the question we have to ask
is what is their game?"

Command had moved into the control room, and now the whole of SG-1 was
gathered there. Hammond had refused to let Carter and Teal'c join the
fighting, he wanted their expertise with him, and now that Jack had
returned the group was complete. O'Neill couldn't help feeling just a
little like it was them against the rest of the universe ... again.
Suddenly the com. system hissed nastily.

"What the hell..." Jack never completed the comment.

"Humans, we will speak with you."

The voice was as cold and as ruthless as any Goa'uld Jack had heard
before. There was a monster the other side of the blast shield and
O'Neill had to swallow his urge to blow up the speaker that issued its
voice. Hammond hesitated only a second and then reached for the
microphone.

"Why should we speak with invaders?"

There was a laugh from the other end of the communication.

"Because you wish to avoid further bloodshed," the voice returned, "and
because we have several of your people. Their deaths will not be
pleasant."

"Harm any one of them and there will be no talking at all," Hammond
told them very quickly.

The same contemptuous laugh greeted the words.

"However you wish to see it," the negotiator replied. "Call your people
off and I will guarantee their safety ... for now."

Hammond looked at O'Neill and they both knew they were being led by the
nose, but they had no choice.

"Lieutenant," Hammond turned to one of the soldiers stood at the back
of the room, "make sure our people hold their positions, but tell the
commanders there are to be no offensives until I tell them
differently."

The officer saluted and left.

"I will assume you are negotiating in good faith," the voice from the
gate room said. "The deal is this: you will activate the gate for the
co-ordinates we give you, and we will pass through, leaving your people
and this facility behind us."

"That's impossible," Hammond told them plainly.

"Then you will hear the screams and see the blood of many more of your
people," the voice replied. "Bring the woman here." The Goa'uld had
definitely left the mike open so that those in the command centre could
hear exactly what was going on. "We shall execute them one by one, and
then we shall destroy this place."

There was the scream of a woman from inside the room, and the sound of
her being dragged where she did not wish to go.

"Wait," Hammond could not let anything happen to his people, and Jack
could feel the conflict radiating from him.

Opening the gate, and aiding the invaders would be in direct violation
of all protocol, but that had never stopped the General doing the right
thing. O'Neill did not envy his superior at all.

"What guarantee do we have that you will not harm our people after we
open the Stargate?" the General asked.

"There is none," the voice returned, "only the knowledge that we wish
to leave, and disposing of your people would slow us down. If they do
not try and obstruct us, we will let them live. Any attempt to prevent
us leaving will, however, result in their deaths."

There was no emotion in the voice, it was cold and calculating, Jack
did not doubt that it would carry out its threat. Hammond cut the mike
and looked at his companions.

"With all due respect, General," O'Neill told him, "getting them out of
this facility is our first priority. We may not exactly win if we open
the Stargate, but it's a better scenario than fighting it out."

The General looked at him silently for a moment, and Jack almost
decided that he had been out of line. Then Hammond nodded.

"I happen to agree with you, Colonel."

He opened the mike once more.

"We'll open the gate," he told the enemy, "but I want our people out of
that room first."

"Do you think we are fools, human?" the voice sounded angry.

"You have my word as an officer of the US Air Force, that once our
people are free the gate will be activated," Hammond returned
sincerely. "We do it our way or not at all."

There was silence from the other side of the communication.

"You give us little choice, human," the voice said slowly. "If your
word is worth nothing you will pay with the lives of all your people."

"Colonel, go down and make sure those technicians are safe," the
General instructed calmly. "Everyone else, prepare to open the
Stargate."

=====================================================================

The moment the three terrified hostages walked through the half-open
gate room door into the safety of their comrades, O'Neill signalled
Hammond and the Stargate jumped into life. The medical team swooped
down on the three technicians, and Jack followed as the two men and one
woman were whisked off to sickbay. Military efficiency and a desire to
make sure none of them had been booby trapped, meant no one was paying
much attention to them. Every five seconds someone would ask them a
question, and like the good little soldiers they were they'd answer,
but nobody really gave them much chance to speak on their own. It was
only as they were sat down in sickbay that anyone actually started to
listen to them.

"They took someone," one of the two men said suddenly, "they took
someone with them."

O'Neill blanched and turned on the spot. Once again the Goa'uld had
betrayed any trust in them. Hammond had to know about this.

======================================================================

SG-1, Dr Faiser and General Hammond sat round the briefing table, and
no body was looking happy with the world. Sam couldn't help trying to
assess how her friends were dealing with this, as they sat in silence
waiting for the General to finish scanning the report in front of him.
O'Neill looked angry, something nasty had happened on his watch, and he
didn't like it one little bit. For his part Daniel was coping better
than Jack, and although he looked agitated, he definitely didn't look
like he wanted to kill anyone. Teal'c was looking like he always did,
but Sam knew him well enough to know that if he ground his teeth any
harder there would be squeaking noises coming our of his mouth. Then
there was Janet, Florence Nightingale to SGC, and at the moment
thoroughly pissed off with the world. If a Goa'uld had appeared at that
moment, Sam decided there would have been little between whether Janet,
or O'Neill got to it first.

"These variations on the ribbon device they use," Hammond asked in a
tone that revealed no matter how calm he looked, he was as wound up as
everyone else, "do we have any idea how they work?"

"From the eye witness reports and analysis of the residues left
behind," Dr Faiser offered the explanation, "in Shu's case his weapon
seems to use some form of energy to remove all water from a body. All
that was left of Private Selby was a small pile of minerals. Tefnut's
ribbon device is even nastier; it transmits a form of fungal growth. On
it's own it's not a danger to human life, but the assumption is that
she then uses the device to accelerate it's formation. Once it has a
hold on something it decomposes it, reducing it to base substances.
Lieutenant Hallow was a small pool of ooze when we found him."

Sam tried very hard not to think about exactly what the doctor was
describing, it was just too horrible. Instead of letting her
imagination run away with her she just filed the information under the
dangerous weapons section in her brain and waited for the conversation
to continue.

"Nice people," O'Neill commented as Janet finished her description.

"It's part of their image," Daniel gave his input. "In ancient Egyptian
culture, Shu is the god of dry air, desert winds, he holds up the sky.
What better way to enforce your power than turn people to sand. Tefnut
is his opposite, goddess of moisture, often associated with the
corruption of decay. These Goa'uld seem to take their roles very
seriously."

"And they're just as slippery and underhand as all the others we've
ever met," Jack concluded. "What I want to know is why they took the
kid."

"As do I," the General agreed. "Do we have anything on that?"

It had been Sam's job to interview those who had come in contact with
the invaders, but she wasn't exactly happy with the amount of
information she had gleaned.

"The three technicians who were used as human shields all agree that
the Goa'uld seemed to think there was something unusual about Ryan,"
the Major began her report. "Unfortunately they were under fire at the
time and they were more worried about being shot at than exactly what
Shu and Tefnut were doing. Private Kilner remembers seeing two bodies
when they were forced into the corridor and at the time both appeared
dead. It really doesn't make much sense for the Goa'uld to take an
interest in a downed man."

"Unless there's something more to this enemy thing," O'Neill suggested
with a shrug.

Everyone looked at Teal'c who merely raised an eyebrow.

"I have told you all I know about the Enemy," the Jaffa told the rest
of the room. "They appear in legend as Tau'ri opposition to the Goa'uld
invaders. The stories mention that they are different in some way, but
I have never heard how. It is told in such a way that I do not believe
it is truly known. The only one who can answer your questions is Adam
Pierson."

Sam swung her gaze towards Daniel, and out of the corner of her eye saw
everyone else do the same.

"As far as I knew he was just another linguist," the anthropologist
said slowly after a moment's pause, "a very good one at that, but just
another academic all the same. I've never noticed anything strange
about him. I suggest we just tell him the truth and ask him."

Sam wasn't so sure they'd get a straight answer out of their guest. She
hadn't really trusted him the moment she'd laid eyes on him, and
whether it had been woman's intuition or a healthy dose of paranoia
didn't matter any more: Pierson had too many secrets. The Major
suspected that to get any straight answers out of their guest they
would have to back him into a corner.

"He's more likely to open up to Daniel," Sam found herself saying. "I
don't think he's going to talk to the rest of us."

"You may be right, Major," General Hammond agreed. "We need to know
exactly what we're dealing with here. We've lost some good people
today, and I don't want to loose anymore. There's no way we can risk
sending a rescue party, but at least we can find out why the Goa'uld
took Ryan. Will you do it Dr Jackson?"

Daniel nodded even though he didn't look too pleased.

"Of course," he said quietly.

Sam could sympathise with him, sometimes the line between friends and
duty could be a hard one.
 
=====================================================================

Daniel walked towards where he had left Adam three hours previously,
very slowly. The anthropologist didn't know how he was going to tell
his friend about Richie's disappearance, let alone broach the subject
of why the Goa'uld might have wanted the young man in the first place.

"What the hell's been going on?" were the first words out of Adam's
mouth as Daniel walked through the door.

"We were invaded," the archaeologist told his companion evenly. "You
were right, Shu and Tefnut came through the gate instead of SG-2."

That seemed to take the fight right out of Adam, and he sat down.

"What happened," he asked, "were they killed?"

Daniel shook his head slowly.

"They had hostages," he explained, still trying to figure out how to
tell Adam the whole truth. "They negotiated passage back the way they
came and retreated."

His friend looked him straight in the eye, and Daniel knew he was
caught.

"What aren't you telling me?" he asked simply.

"We didn't realise at the time," Daniel finally admitted, "but they had
another prisoner other than the technicians with them in the gate room.
They took Richie with them, I'm so sorry."

Adam looked totally stunned and the archaeologist watched as the colour
drained out of his face.

"But why?" he said very quietly.

"According to the other hostages," Daniel explained, "they found him
when they were trying to invade the facility. He was caught in an
explosion and was hurt. They remember Shu thinking there was something
unusual about Richie. More than that we don't know."

Adam's eyes went totally cold, and Daniel suddenly didn't recognise the
man sitting in front of him. The normally relaxed, friendly lines of
his friend's face were suddenly hard and Daniel knew Adam was now
deadly serious.

"We have to get him back," the man who had become a stranger said with
absolute clarity. "This is more important than you could possibly
imagine."

Daniel didn't know why, but he believed him instantly. There was one
snag, however - he might believe, but how could he convince the
military. Hammond had already vetoed O'Neill's request to retrieve
Richie. Jack had asked as soon as they'd found out someone was missing,
he hadn't cared who it was. The General had refused point blank.

"I have to know why," Daniel said after several seconds’ silence.
"General Hammond won't let a rescue party through the gate. We'll need
a damn good reason."

For a moment the archaeologist almost recognised his friend again as
the man took a moment to think.

"Can your General be trusted?" he asked slowly. "If I put my life and
the lives of others in his hands will he stand by us?"

Teal'c's situation immediately sprung into Daniel's mind and he did not
hesitate. "Yes."

Adam was silent for a moment longer, as if considering a very heavy
question.

"How about the rest of SG-1?" he asked.

"You can trust them as much as you trust me," Daniel told him.

"Then I need to see them all," Adam said emphatically, "and quickly."

=====================================================================

Daniel had left quickly after Methos' ultimatum, and the Immortal was
left to his own thoughts. He had made the decision that these people
would have to be told something as soon as he'd heard what had
happened, but that didn't mean he knew what to explain. How could he
tell military officers about the threat that Richie could pose and not
end up with a witch-hunt on his hands? Daniel had been adamant that his
friends could be trusted, but Methos had been betrayed before in his
life, and he sure as hell didn't want it to happen again.

The problem was, the possibilities Richie's kidnap threw into his head
were much worse than most other things he could imagine. The idea of
Immortals being pursued by humans was one thing, but the thought of a
planet subjugated by the Goa'uld, their minions seeking out every
Immortal they could find: it was just too horrible. Goa'uld in Immortal
bodies just didn't bear thinking about. The Game would be irrelevant,
hell, just about everything but staying alive would be irrelevant. 

What choice was there? He'd seen the power of the Goa'uld before, and
it had taken many lives and a lot of luck to fight them then. With an
incentive like Immortal hosts to back their armies what hope would
Earth have at all? It was time to make a stand, whether Methos liked
the idea or not. The oldest living Immortal knew he was going to have
to reveal what he was and his devious mind began to form a plausible
story that would give him knowledge but play down his part in the
Stargate mystery. There was no way he was going to admit that he was a
commander of a legion in the rebellion.

======================================================================

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.

=====================================================================

Okay, so being thrown at the feet of a beautiful woman might be some
guys idea of a good time, but Methos had to side with the fact that it
was a bad idea when that woman was a homicidal maniac. Tefnut had taken
residence in one of the large halls of what could only be described as
a fairytale castle, and there were lion Jaffa everywhere. What had
happened to Richie and where Shu might be were both questions the
ancient Immortal would rather have answered sooner than later.

In her favour, Tefnut was an incredibly beautiful specimen of the human
species. She was the kind of woman who would have made super models
grind their teeth in envy. She had a main of jet-black hair which was
platted ornately over her scalp and hung in long tresses down her back.
The golden headdress that she wore to frame her exquisite face was of
the finest craftsmanship and if Methos had been in a whimsical mood he
might almost have believed he could hear the lioness roar. The ancient
Immortal would also have been letting his own gender down if he hadn’t
noticed just how few clothes she was wearing. Inside, away from the
temperate climate of whatever planet they were on, the air was warm,
and the Goddess of moisture was clothed only in a bejewelled bikini and
light silk skirts which did nothing to hide her shapely legs.

As the prisoners were thrown to their knees at the base of her throne
she looked at them with cold golden eyes. The smile that adorned her
face gave her expression no warmth, and her gaze chilled Methos’ soul.

“Ah, the invaders,” she said, her voice edged with Goa’uld power. “A
rescue party, how touching.”

She walked down the steps of the dais on which her throne stood and
wandered around the prisoners. Watching her could have had fatal
consequences, but Methos still had to clamp down on all his instincts
to keep his eyes towards the front. Losing sight of Tefnut was
something that made the Immortal very nervous.

“How is it you managed to cause Apophis so much trouble?” her voice was
as cold at her stare, and the only emotion it contained was amusement.
“Your motives are so transparent.”

She wandered back into Methos’ line of vision and he watched her
surreptitiously. Tefnut was every bit the Goddess.

“I must admit that your defeat of Apophis was impressive,” she
continued as if she had no intention of ever stopping, “but we, unlike
the Serpent Lord, think before we act. You will feel the retribution of
the Lion Gods.”

She moved up one step on the dais and put her hands on her hips,
sweeping her gaze over the prisoners. Methos made sure his eyes were
down when she came to him. The last thing he needed was to be noticed.

“The question is how should I kill you,” the amusement was gone from
Tefnut’s voice; she was deadly serious now.

There was absolutely no doubt in Methos’ mind that this Goa’uld had no
compassion what so ever. Her tone only went to confirm that he was
listening to something that couldn’t even conceive of a conscience, let
alone have one.

“I could have you thrown in a cell and leave you to starve to death,”
she pondered aloud. “Or I could have you tortured in the market place
as an example to others who would consider rebellion.”

She paused and Methos took the chance of peering up at her again. She
had a thoughtful expression on her face; she really was trying to
decide how to execute them all. This wasn’t a game; it was very real.

“Then again, maybe I should just kill you now,” she said and a
malicious smile curved her lips upwards. “How would you like to watch
as I kill you one by one ... and you’ll never know who I’ll choose
next?”

She moved off the step onto the main floor once more.

“But who to choose first,” she said, and Tefnut was playing games.

Methos kept his eyes firmly on the floor; if she chose him they were in
real trouble. Two Immortals in Goa’uld hands was a very bad scenario.

“Maybe the woman,” Tefnut mused as much to herself as everyone else.
“Or should I let you watch the Jaffa die first? You haven’t seen
anything quite so entertaining until you’ve seen a Jaffa without his
larva.”

“Lady, whatever you’re gonna do, just get on and do it,” O’Neill
growled, which wasn’t much of a surprise to Methos.

The Immortal knew if anyone would try and attract Tefnut’s wrath it
would be the Colonel. Surprisingly enough his attempt to annoy her
enough to focus her anger didn’t quite work. The Goa’uld laughed.

“You would dare to speak in my presence?” she said, amusement tinged
with surprise in her voice.

“I’ll speak where the hell I please,” Jack returned and Methos heard
the thud of a Jaffa staff on flesh as the Colonel was rewarded for his
impertinence.

“You must think me a fool if you believe you can goad me into a choice
of victim,” Tefnut said and her tone was once again emotionless. “For
that you will see at least one of your comrades die, maybe even all of
them, and at some point I will kill you the most slowly of all.”

She moved closer to them all, and Methos began silently praying to any
and all gods that might hear him as she stood next to him. The ancient
Immortal was not afraid to die, but the fact that he probably wouldn’t
was what worried him.

“You,” she said coldly, and stopped in front of Daniel. “You have a
face full of knowledge, and knowledge is dangerous. I shall kill you
first.”

As Tefnut reached out her left hand with its ornate, but deadly ribbon
device, Methos saw O’Neill move out of the corner of his eye. The
leader of SG-1 didn’t even get two feet as a Jaffa hit him over the
back of the head with his staff. The Colonel dropped like a stone and
didn’t move. Tefnut just looked down at him.

“Trying to spoil my entertainment will make his death all the more
painful,” she said coldly. “Oh well, I’m sure I can save at least one
of you for when he wakes up, but I tire of this game. Prepare to die,
human.”

Her hand moved a second time, and then Methos felt the presence of
another Immortal.

“Wait,” said a familiar, but horribly distorted voice.

Methos’ blood froze as he saw the figure which had just entered the
hall behind the thrones. The blonde hair and boyish features were still
the same, but that was about all the ancient Immortal recognised about
Richie. Emotionless golden eyes flicked over Methos as he stared, and
as his one time friend smiled long fangs were revealed. Tefnut for her
part looked slightly annoyed at the interruption, but as the newcomer
smiled her expression softened slightly. Richie was wearing a short
Egyptian style skirt, an ornate collar, and the headdress of two
feathers. His skin had been oiled, and he was armed with a ribbon
device. With complete certainty, Methos knew he was looking at Shu, god
of the dry air.

“I did not mean to upset you, my love,” the Goa’uld said calmly and
walked further into the room, “forgive me for interrupting.”

Methos knew the skilful handling of a psychopath when he saw one, and
he wasn’t quite sure if he was pleased with this new arrangement. At
the plea for forgiveness Tefnut caved, and she smiled back at what had
once been Richie.

“Shu, my darling,” she said sweetly, “you I would forgive anything.”

It might all have been romantic if it hadn’t been for the fact that it
was two alien parasites talking to each other in stolen bodies. Methos
tried to hide any emotion, and prayed that he was not about to be
singled out.

“I have an alternative suggestion,” Shu said, and walked up to his
consort. “I believe it may be wise to save the prisoners. Their deaths
will be of much more use to us if our brethren witness it. It would not
hurt for the others to know that we succeeded where Apophis failed.”

Methos didn’t quite believe it, but Tefnut almost pouted. The only way
the ancient Immortal could describe her was a spoilt child.

“My love,” Shu said and reached out his hand to touch the woman’s face,
“it pains me to see you so disappointed. Maybe if you just keep one.”

It was as if they were talking about toys, not sentient beings. The
Goa’uld’s eyes swung across the prisoners and settled on Methos.

“That one is not really part of this group,” Shu said evenly, “and is
therefore of no value to us. I am sure you could amuse yourself with
him.”

Tefnut’s eyes brightened as she too stared at Methos, and the Immortal
felt like a slave in the market.

“I would kill him now,” the woman said coldly and went to move forward,
but Shu caught her arm.

He leant towards her with a conspiratorial grin and whispered something
in her ear. Her face went from passive to smiling brightly as Shu spoke
to her. Methos definitely didn’t like that expression, especially when
it was directed towards him.

“You have such wonderful ideas, beloved,” Tefnut said brightly.

Without even pausing she barked some orders at the Jaffa and Methos
found himself being dragged in the opposite direction to his comrades.
Shu had made no mention of Immortality, of Methos being the same as
Richie, or anything that would suggest he even knew the truth.
Possibilities kept going round in the ancient man’s head, and most of
them were not good. Even as he was dragged to his unknown destination,
the last thing he saw before the door closed behind him was Shu kissing
Tefnut.

=====================================================================

Tefnut watched her husband as he moved around their private apartments
as if exploring them for the first time. She had never seen Shu so
affected by a new host, but in a way it made her happy.

"Beloved, this new body pleases you?" she enquired.

Shu turned to her and smiled.

"Beyond words," he told her and walked to where she lounged on a couch.
"He is strong and virile. I have not felt this alive in centuries."

He took her hand and she smiled as he kissed her fingers. He moved up
her arm slowly, placing his lips a few millimetres up each time.

"There is desire in this body you would not believe," he told her.

She let him kiss her, savouring the taste of the new host and then she
broke away. Her own passions could be roused quite easily, but today
there were other needs.

"Should we not oversee the repulsion of the Tau'ri, my love," she
purred in his ear. "War and then passion."

Shu's smile grew wider as if considering her proposal, but then he
caught her under the chin and looked straight into her eyes. His golden
irises almost sparkled, and she could not fail to see the desire they
contained.

"Let the soldiers worry about the humans," he said and growled at her
quietly. "They will be defeated soon, and then we shall enjoy the
destruction of any survivors. I want to feel this new body as it
caresses my beloved, and then I want to plan some executions."

Tefnut leant into him as he ran his hand down her breastbone. She could
control her passion only so far, and Shu's argument was convincing. She
let a growl rumble in the back of her throat and curled her lip to
reveal her long fangs. After millennia Shu knew just how to react to
his wife, and he seized her by the shoulders. He pulled her into a
fierce embrace, and kissed her hard on the lips. She responded by
running her long sharp nails down his back. She savoured the taste of
the new host for a while, enjoying the different feel of this
extraordinary male body. On impulse she pulled out of the deep kiss
slightly, and quite deliberately sank one fang into the soft lips,
which caressed hers. The metallic taste of blood ran into her mouth
even as Shu pulled back in surprise.

Tefnut smiled at her beloved and watched fascinated, as the small
puncture mark on his lip vanished as fast as she had created it. She
laughed, her wonder sparking a new wave of desire. Shu's surprised
expression turned into a smile as he looked back at her, and then he
pushed her down onto the couch.

=====================================================================

Methos was not exactly feeling sorry for himself: the puzzle that was
Shu was far too interesting for that, but the Immortal was slightly
worried. The ancient man had been dragged to a holding cell, and
chained to the wall. He had no idea what his captors had planned for
him, and he had been trying to figure out a way in which he could avoid
it. It was the fact that Shu didn't seem to know any of the details of
his own Immortality that really had Methos' attention. Why the Goa'uld
had not denounced Methos for what he was, and for that matter didn't
seem to have any idea of the Immortal call sign, were the questions
that plagued the oldest living of them all. 

If Shu really was ignorant of the truth then it was possible that
Methos might get out of this situation with his head. The way to
freedom might be very unpleasant, and dying would probably be on the
list of things that would happen in between, but it was nothing the
ancient Immortal couldn't cope with. He had been pondering these ideas
most of the night right up until the point when his royal visitor had
arrived.

Shu entered the cell closely flanked by a Jaffa, and just stood there
staring at his prisoner. If anything it was the golden eyes which
bothered Methos the most; they appeared empty as if where the soul
should have been there was nothing. It was an eerie feeling and one
that the Immortal did not like.

"How do you like the accommodations?" the Goa'uld finally chose to
speak.

Methos decided silence was the better course of action, and just
seethed quietly at the alien thing in front of him. Standing up all
night chained to a wall was not Methos' idea of fun, but he could think
of worse things, and he really didn't want to start a verbal war with
the enemy.

"Not full of bravado like your Colonel?" Shu jibed with a superior
smile.

"Just better at controlling my tongue," Methos couldn't help himself,
which he found quite ironic considering what he chose to say.

Shu laughed at him and stepped closer.

"We have great plans for you," the Goa'uld told him as if Methos really
wanted to know, "you will draw quite a crowd in the market place when
you are executed. Tefnut wishes to kill you herself, and my Queen is
very good at what she does. I always find it best to indulge her
whims."

The Immortal bit his tongue to keep the comment that jumped into his
head finding verbalisation.

"But before I let her have you I would like to talk to you," Shu
continued and then turned to his guard. "Wait outside," he instructed.

The royal Goa'uld went back to staring at his prisoner as the Jaffa did
as he was instructed. The superior behaviour of the creature that wore
his friend's body was beginning to annoy Methos, so he stared right
back. It was probably not the most sensible of actions, but he was
tired, and Shu seemed to find it amusing anyway. The arrogance in the
face that looked at him just basically pissed him off.

Then as the door shut something changed. Methos had to blink to make
sure he wasn't imagining things and he stared at Shu for a long moment
and the Goa'uld stared back in silence. Something wasn't quite right
here.

"You know you're slipping, Old Man," Shu said suddenly. 

It took a moment to realise that the Goa'uld's tone had changed
completely and then an idea slowly resolved in Methos' mind. He
couldn't quite believe what he was thinking, but he had to find out.

"Richie?" he asked slowly.

"The very same," his friend replied, and actually smiled. "Some rescue
party you turned out to be."

Suspicion was Methos' immediate reaction, and he narrowed his eyes at
the other Immortal.

"Is this your idea of a game?" he said tersely.

"No game," the Goa'uld replied. "If I ever get a handle on what's
happened I will explain it, but let's just say I think it was bad when
larva met Immortal."

He sounded so much like Richie, and the expression he was wearing
definitely wasn't Shu's. Methos actually let himself hope.

"What happened?" he asked, not quite willing to trust just yet.

"I don't really remember," Richie told him with what looked like total
honesty. "They dragged me off to some ritual chamber, tied me down and
Shu transferred into me. I panicked like you would not believe, I felt
him try to take over, and then everything gets really hazy. The next
thing I knew I was lying in the royal apartments with Tefnut hovering
by my side. It's funny, but I knew exactly how I was supposed to react,
what I was supposed to do. It's like Shu's memory is part of me, but
whatever was actually him is toast."

Methos looked thoughtfully at his companion for a moment.

"I suppose it is possible," he said slowly. 

His mind continued to muse on the problem, but he didn't voice any of
the thoughts.

"Well I figured you guys would like to get off this planet," Richie
said to fill in the gap, "so I thought I'd come find you. It shouldn't
be too difficult to get out of here with a royal escort."

"What about Tefnut?" the question sprang to Methos' lips before he
really thought about it.

"She shouldn't be up for another couple of hours," Richie replied, "it
was a long night."

The older Immortal stared at his companion after that comment and
watched as Richie's cheeks slowly coloured.

"Isn't that usually known as fraternising with the enemy?" Methos asked
with a dead straight face.

=====================================================================

The cell was relatively small compared to the one Daniel and the others
had seen in their last stay as Goa'uld prisoners. There was a stone lip
around the inside of the room, and SG-1 was sat around trying to come
up with something like a plan. Ever since O’Neill had recovered from
his blow to the head, they’d been talking. Daniel wasn’t very impressed
with the amount of useful ideas they had between them, but he also
realised that saying so wouldn’t do them any good.

"But we can't just go back, even if we do escape," Carter pointed out
firmly. "We have to make sure that Shu is destroyed and none of the
other Goa'uld find out about what happened. If any of them even suspect
there may be more like Richie on earth they won't stop until they've
found them."

“Which means we have to find Adam too,” Jack said with an annoyed shake
of his head.

"But how do you stop someone who's Immortal?" Daniel asked dejectedly,
they’d been in some pretty bad situations before, but this was right up
there with one of the worst.

"I don't know," O'Neill spat back in his frustration. "Drop a mountain
on them or something like that."

They'd been stuck in the cell all night, and there didn't seem to be
any way out. No one had bothered to feed them; it didn't appear that
the Goa'uld believed in a last meal for the condemned. Daniel knew they
would have to attract attention some how, but doing so without getting
themselves killed straight away was not going to be easy.

Their planning was interrupted by some loud noises from just outside
the door. 

“Okay, okay, I’m going aren’t I,” came an unhappy complaint, “no need
to shove.”

The door opened and the sight of a ruffled but seemingly otherwise
undamaged Adam being half thrown through the opening backed up the
evidence of Daniel’s ears. Following closely on his heels was a Jaffa
with the markings of Shu on his forehead and an evil looking staff
weapon in his hand. The warrior took up a position just to the left of
the door, poised should anyone dare to move. As the next figure
appeared in the doorway the reason for the Jaffa’s vigilance became
obvious, and Daniel had to stifle the thoughts running through his head
from leaving his mouth. 

The archaeologist barely recognised Richie in the full regalia of a
royal Goa’uld and the gaze that scanned the room showed no warmth and
only cursory recognition. Daniel couldn’t say he’d had much time to
really get to know the Immortal before everything had gone straight to
hell, but the creature in the doorway wasn’t even close to the person
he had briefly known. Shu's peculiar taste in altering his host's eyes
and teeth made Richie seem all the more alien and on his left hand was
a ribbon device and each finger guard was tipped with a black claw. 

Daniel couldn’t help but stare and he knew his contempt and hatred were
probably showing in his face. He’d never been good at hiding his
emotions, and as this Goa’uld walked further into the room it was no
different. This was the same kind of monster that had taken Shauri from
him twice, and if it had been within his power he would have tried to
kill it with his bare hands. This was Shu, and Daniel removed Richie
from his mind. Behind the parasite was yet another Jaffa, but this one
was not heavily armed, in fact he appeared to be acting as a beast of
burden.

Shu flicked his hand and the vassal behind him placed the box he had
been carrying down on the floor. It was at that point that the morning
became that little bit stranger. Shu reached out and to Daniel’s
surprise as well as that of the Jaffa in question took his servant’s
staff weapon.

"Leave," he said coldly, "and close the door."

The Jaffa whose weapon Shu had taken looked very startled.

"But, Master," were the only words he uttered before Shu turned on him.

The Goa'uld's eyes were white with anger, and he did not look at all
pleased.

"Are you questioning me," Shu said very slowly and deliberately.

His left hand came up a small way with every word, and the Jaffa's
expression went from surprise to terror.

"No," he spluttered.

"Get out, and if I see you again before sundown I will have you both
killed," Shu said and turned away from his escorts as if dismissing
them from his mind.

The two Jaffa no longer hesitated and vanished through the door,
letting it slam shut behind them.

Daniel, as the other members of SG-1, was looking astonished, and for a
few seconds nobody moved. The tableau was broken by what had to have
been probably the most unexpected thing that Daniel could have thought
of. Shu handed the staff weapon to Adam and freed of the burden used
his right hand to rub the back of his neck.

“Man, these people need a lesson in fashion,” he said and his voice was
perfectly normal.

Daniel just let his mouth drop open, and he could see all the others in
equally obvious modes of shock. The archaeologist looked at Adam who
grinned back.

“Unexpected isn’t he,” the Immortal said almost as if they weren’t on a
foreign planet at peril for their very lives.

"But how?" Sam was the only one to voice the question.

"Shu and I had an argument over whose body this was and I won," Richie
told her with an irreverence Daniel had heard before. "Playing god
really isn't my style, so I figured you guys might like to get out of
here."

"But you are Goa'uld," Teal'c pointed out what they had all seen.

"Ten out of ten to the man in the corner," Richie replied, "but after
you've been possessed by a demon, an alien is a push over. Right now I
think we should leave before Sef't decides to tell my beloved sister
he's just left me in here on my own."

The Immortal turned quickly and flipped open the box behind him.

"Guns, ammo, and everything else the Jaffa confiscated," he told them.
"Your backup teams were forced back through the gate a few hours ago,
but as long as we don't bump into Tefnut, no one is going to try and
stop me, no matter who's with me. Shu has a reputation for being
erratic anyway."

Daniel followed the others as everyone slowly climbed to their feet,
and he could tell they were all reticent. The shock over,
practicalities were going through all minds. They didn't trust Richie,
no matter what he was doing for them. Daniel was right with them on
that point: Goa’ulds were trouble, and there were no exceptions. Daniel
didn’t know Richie well enough to be able to tell if he was really
acting like Richie, he appeared to be trying to help them, but Tefnut
at least had been shown to have a warped idea of fun, which could mean
that anything was going on.

"You'll forgive us if we don't take anything you say at face value,"
O'Neill said as Richie turned back from the box.

The young Immortal looked a little unhappy at the statement, but he
seemed to understand it. He took a deep breath, and Daniel was a little
perturbed to see a momentary flash of white behind the man's eyes. This
person really wasn't human anymore, he was the same irreverent young
man who had walked into Daniel’s apartment, and yet he wasn't at the
same time.

"Look," Richie said slowly, "I know you don't trust me. Believe me I
know all about Goa'uld games. I know I look like an extra from Cats,
but I am on your side. I can't explain how I defeated Shu, I can't even
tell you exactly what's going on in my head right now, but I do suggest
we get out of here as fast as possible. Look at it this way, those guns
are loaded, this staff works, so at least you have a fighting chance.
Staying here you are all dead."

"That is true," Teal'c observed as calmly as ever.

O'Neill and Richie stood there looking at each other in silence for a
moment. Daniel knew Jack was weighing the odds, and the archaeologist
realised with unhappy certainty that there was only one decision.

"Okay," the Colonel said finally, "we move out. You step out of line
just once and I'll fill you full of holes. I know it won't kill you for
long, but I'll make sure it hurts like hell."

Richie looked surprised and Daniel realised that Adam must not have had
time to fill his companion in on how much SG-1 knew.

"I told them," the dark haired Immortal stepped in quickly. "This place
was off limits until the gravity of the situation was made clear."

"Put that at the top of my ‘I thought it would never happen list’,"
Richie shot back.

That comment might even have been worth a smile if it hadn’t of been a
Goa’uld saying it. The presence of an alien parasite really put humour
off the menu for Daniel. The younger Immortal glanced around the room,
as if taking in the faces of his companions for the first time. When
his eyes reached Daniel the archaeologist felt as if he was somehow
being assessed, he just stared right on back.

"Okay," he agreed, "I go wacko, you shoot me, fine, but to get out of
this we need rules. First play prisoners, look dejected, beaten and
hide the guns. I'll carry the second staff, if we run into trouble I'll
give it to Teal'c. If we meet anyone I'll do any talking necessary, me
they'll listen to, you they'll blast into a million pieces."

Daniel watched Jack look at Teal'c who just raised an eyebrow.

"It would seem a logical course of action," the Jaffa replied.

"Great, good, can we go now?" Richie appeared to have an impatient
streak which came shining through.

"Okay, now that’s the Richie I’ve come to expect," Adam said, and
Daniel had to adjust to the man not just being his grad friend as the
Immortal leant past the others to pick up his sword.

=====================================================================

Richie hadn't been lying when he'd told the others he wasn't sure what
was going on in his head. Ever since Shu had tried to take over his
body he'd had a weird second take on the world. At first Shu had tried
to squash Richie's will and supplant the control of his physical form,
but the Immortal had fought back. Blind panic had taken over as the
alien had attached himself to his system and no matter how had he
tried, he couldn't remember anything that had happened. 

When he had come to himself Shu, as an entity had been gone, which was
the only plus Richie could see in the current situation. There was no
battle going on inside him, there was just a strange dual knowledge. He
knew what Shu had known, or at least part of it. He knew how to behave,
what to say, how to use Goa'uld technology. In fact, Richie knew how to
be Shu, he could even empathise with the way the alien had thought. His
original persona overrode the desires of the Goa'uld, but Richie still
knew what they were. He was almost sure there were gaps, things that
had been lost in whatever had happened, but most of it was there.

It was almost like stepping into another skin when he became Shu, when
he let himself pretend to be the alien parasite. He let Goa'uld
instincts rule his actions with his human awareness sitting in the
background. It was strange, he had woken in what should have been a
terrifying situation, and yet he hadn’t panicked at all, in fact he had
simply turned it to his own advantage. 

At first he had just let things happen, allowed himself to adjust to
the new things, and then he had taken control. He had all but seduced
Tefnut, and that was one of the things that really bothered him. It
wasn’t the fact that he had used her that was the problem, when death
was the alternative certain actions were admissible, but what he had
felt whilst doing it worried him. He really had desired her, even felt
a strange sense of love, as if experiencing the echo of what Shu would
have felt.

Richie was more than a little confused, but as the party strode through
the palace nothing showed on the outside. SG-1 were showing themselves
to be very good actors, and nobody gave them more than a passing
glance. That Shu was escorting prisoners on his own may have been
strange, but people who wanted to live didn’t question a Goa’uld, and
they were left alone. Sneaking around back passages was not what a
royal Goa’uld was prone to doing, and so Richie lead them through the
main hallways. Eventually he had no choice but to take them into a part
of the building where Tefnut might actually see them. Fate was yet
again, against the party and as they entered one of the main
antechambers Tefnut appeared with two Jaffa, one of them being Sef’t.

“Beloved, what are you doing?” the female Goa’uld asked, frowning at
the now still party.

Richie let a smile wander across his face and strode towards her as if
nothing was wrong.

“Planning, my darling,” he said and gallantly kissed her hand. “I woke
this morning with the desire to find you a host such as mine.”

He slipped a hand under her arm and steered her away from her guards.

“I did not wish the Jaffa to hear of the plan,” he told her
conspiratorially, “you never know when one will be captured and
tortured to gain information. This discovery is ours to share, and no
one else’s. This power shall be ours to do with as we wish.”

Tefnut looked over at the prisoners who were still doing a good
impression of being beaten.

“They are the key,” Richie continued calmly, “the key to Earth. Our
last strategy did not work, but maybe we were too hasty. What we need
are puppets whose masters will not see the strings. The humans shall be
our game pieces and they shall open their world for us. Never let it be
said that the Lion Gods are not cunning.”

Tefnut was beginning to appear a lot happier with the situation. The
plan sounded plausible, and it was obvious she liked the idea of having
her own invulnerable body. The race for power always outweighed other
considerations in Goa’uld life, and Tefnut was no different. She
wandered towards the prisoners, leaving Richie to the task he had had
in mind in the first place. Tefnut could be dangerous, but the greatest
hazards in the room were the two Jaffa. With a slight nod at Methos,
Richie revealed his true colours. His left hand shot up and an energy
wave flew across the room. Sef’t and his companion were flung
backwards, and Sef’t at least did not get up again when he hit the
wall. A single shot from the staff finished off the Jaffa who refused
to stay down.

Tefnut was staring at Richie in horror when he finished his task, and
by the time she glanced at the so-called prisoners they were all
brandishing weapons.

“Why?” she asked almost desperately.

She obviously thought of treachery from her fellow Goa’uld. She looked
like a woman scorned, and Richie suspected she had no inkling of what
had really happened.

“We have ruled together for millennia,” she entreated him, “why abandon
me now.”

“Shu is gone,” Richie said evenly, “you are appealing to nothing.
Playing with things you do not understand will get you killed.”

If the Immortal had thought Tefnut appeared horrified before, the new
expression on her face made that emotion look pale in comparison. She
seemed caught between disbelief, rage and terror, but her emotions
slowly coalesced into a hard, cold shell of anger.

“I will have you dissected,” she said icily. “Shu will be returned to
me.”

Richie found himself laughing despite the situation. With totally
certainty he knew that even if she had been in the position to carry
out her threat, it would not do her any good.

“You weren’t listening,” the Immortal told her almost as coldly as she
had, “I didn’t say I dominated him I said Shu was gone. He played with
fire, it destroyed him, and now we’re leaving.”

The disbelief was back on Tefnut’s face: she seemed frozen. Her Goa’uld
sensibilities just couldn’t deal with the idea Richie had thrown at
her. That her brother’s will could have been overcome was almost
inconceivable, but that he could be gone forever didn’t seem to be in
her mindset at all.

“What do we do with her?” Carter asked as SG-1 finally mobilised.

Tefnut looked stunned and empty, Richie didn’t think any of his
companions would have the heart to kill her. 

“We take her with us,” O’Neill said eventually. “The game plan has
changed, we’re leaving here using a royal hostage as passage.”

Richie couldn’t help but feel relief at the Colonel’s decision. On an
academic level he knew she was a monster, but in his heart he still
felt for her. Maybe back on Earth there may be hope for her yet. The
new strategy would bring them into direct conflict with the forces
between them and the gate, but deception was not really an option any
more. Sooner or later someone would find out what had happened, and
this way they had a much better chance.

“Two royal hostages,” Richie pointed out and handed Teal’c the staff
weapon.

“Yeah well we’d better confiscate those pretty bangles then,” O’Neill
pointed out, and held out his hand for Richie’s only remaining weapon.

Out of the corner of his eye the Immortal saw Carter step towards
Tefnut, and he saw his sister goddess move. With a cry of fury the
female Goa’uld turned on the Major bringing up her own weapon before
the human could react.

“You will all die,” she yelled, and energy ripped out at Carter.

Sam screamed the moment it touched her, and Richie knew the woman was
dead if he didn’t get there immediately. Almost instantaneously,
horrible black and green blotches appeared on the Major's skin, there
was no time to lose. Forced into action the Immortal never hesitated
and he turned, pushing Carter out of the way. Tefnut’s power turned on
him, but even as the corruption touched his skin it vanished almost as
quickly as it appeared. His Immortal body was an easy match for the
death touch that Tefnut dealt. 

The woman was engulfed in a rage so great nothing could possibly reach
her, she had to be stopped or she would destroy everyone. Richie’s own
hand came up and even as her power poured into him so his poured into
her. Within a few seconds she began to scream herself.

There was shock in her eyes as her skin began to flake from her body,
and Richie almost stopped, but at least this way she would die quickly.
He locked his eyes with hers and turned every ounce of power he had on
her. In seconds Tefnut, Goddess of moisture and Daughter of Ra was a
dried out husk. Richie couldn’t bring himself to destroy her
completely. Turning her into a pile of dust was not something he could
do to a woman that part of himself had loved for so long and he
released her body to fall to the ground.

For a long moment Richie just stood there unable to take his eyes off
what he had done, and then a hand touched his shoulder. He looked round
to see Methos’ understanding face, and Richie knew he wasn’t alone.
With the back of one hand he reached up and wiped away the single tear
running down his cheek.

“Back to plan A,” O’Neill said shortly.

Richie turned to see Daniel holding the staff weapon, Teal’c carrying
an unconscious Carter in his arms, and O’Neill looking very stern.

“We have to get Sam back to Frasier as quickly as possible,” Jack
stated firmly, “and that means now.”

There was noise from the other side of the room, and all turned to see
Sef’t on his feet, staff in hand. Every SG-1 member who could raised a
gun.

“Wait,” Richie said quickly. Grief would have to wait, for now there
were other priorities.

With a purpose he didn’t think he had left Richie strode across the
room towards the armed Jaffa. At he suspected Sef’t did not fire, the
man was unsure of what to do, and Richie stopped a few feet from him.

“Your gods are dead,” the Immortal stated coldly and looked the Jaffa
directly in the eye. “You can serve the new order or you can die. It is
your choice.”

It was an emotionless ultimatum and Richie drew on all his empathy with
what was left of Shu to give it. Inside the Immortal was a bit of a
mess, but as far as the world could see he was as cool as ice. Sef’t
looked shocked at the words, but slowly he brought his staff back to
its vertical position.

“Good,” Richie said evenly, “now we’re going to the Stargate.”

=====================================================================

The deception was easy enough; Shu with prisoners and a Lion Guard were
not challenged as they strode towards the gate. Richie walked up to the
DHD barely looking at the guards who flanked it. He was met by a priest
who bowed to him reverently as he calmly surveyed the podium.

“It is time to send the Tau’ri a message,” Richie said coldly: his
voice reverberating with Goa’uld power. “I will have them recognise the
superiority of the Lion Gods. Open the Chaappa’ai onto their world: I
have a gift for them.”

The priest obeyed without question and the Stargate began to spin into
life. Richie ignored Shu’s minions completely and watched the gate
impassively.

“Chau’va,” he said evenly as the wormhole erupted from the portal,
“take the woman through to the other side. Her end will come quickly
compared to yours. Remember your Gods when you feel the pain of the
traitor’s death. Tell the Tau’ri to fear my name.”

Teal’c simply stared ahead until Sef’t poked him in the back with his
staff weapon. Richie had to admire the Jaffa: he was a good actor.
Slowly the large man stepped up to the Stargate. Sam had been carrying
the code generator and it was Teal’c’s job to send SG-1’s signal. They
had planned their exit through the Stargate carefully and Richie waited
for the Jaffa to finish his task. As Teal’c calmly stepped through the
gate it was time to forget the charade.

Richie spun away from the priest towards the two Lion Jaffa guarding
the gate. He spared them only a cursory thought as he brought up his
hand and sent them flying backwards. Ignoring the helpless priest SG-1
and their companions charged towards the gate and ran through the
wormhole just before it shut down.

Even though they had given the correct signal the SGC were taking no
chances, and as the team materialised on Earth they found themselves
surrounded by armed marines. Teal’c was standing very still at the top
of the ramp.

“We need a medic now!” were the first words out of O’Neill’s mouth.

One look at Carter’s face, covered in green and black lines told Richie
that she was going to die. Tefnut had gone too far with the damage, and
the Immortal knew, without knowing quite how that modern medicine would
not be able to save her. As a medial team arrived and Teal’c deposited
his burden onto the gurney they brought with them, something stirred at
the back of Richie’s mind. 

It was the first time he had run across one of the blanks he had from
his joining with Shu, but he knew he had to act. However, he wasn’t on
a Goa'uld dominated planet at the moment, and the second he so much as
moved a muscle where he stood on the gate ramp, six machine guns
focused their attention on him. At danger Richie’s eyes flared, but he
fought down the need to react.

At the sound of guns O’Neill turned from where he had been anxiously
watching Dr Frasier with Sam. Richie knew this was his one and only
chance to help Carter and he took it.

“She’s dying,” he said evenly, “she’ll be dead in ten minutes if they
don’t let me past.”

Jack looked slightly undecided, some of Richie’s behaviour had been
very strange and the Colonel had obviously noticed. He glanced to where
Frasier was doing the fastest preliminary examination she had ever
managed, and when the doctor’s head came up their eyes met. She didn’t
look hopeful. Jack turned his attention to the higher authority of
Hammond standing in the command centre.

“He’s on our side, sir,” O’Neill finally said.

“Let him through to Major Carter,” Hammond ordered almost immediately.

The guns didn’t lower, these marines weren’t fools, but they did clear
a path to the gurney. Richie walked down the ramp slowly trying to seem
as unthreatening as possible. This was difficult be