Immortal's Legacy
Nyeran strode through the halls of Stargate Command, adjusting his duster over his wings. He was going to diminish Baal's forces again. Patting his pockets, the Immortal assured himself that the zatnikitels, or zats for short, were still there. As he entered the embarkation room, he nodded to the newly promoted Brigadier General Cameron Mitchell.
"You have a green light, Nyeran. Don't get killed," Mitchell said, watching as the most ancient man on earth walked through the event horizon of the active Stargate after waving a hand at him.
On the other side of the trip through the wormhole, Nyeran shed his duster and grabbed the zats. Spreading his wings, a huge span of ten feet in total, he soared through the air, firing three times at every Jaffa he saw, making sure that they all disintegrated so no one would know that he had been there, until he noticed a bunch of them beating someone up. Landing in the foliage that surrounded the small clearing, Nyeran levelled a zat at one of the Jaffa, carefully squeezing off two shots, killing his target. Immediately, the beating stopped, and the Jaffa scattered when they saw Nyeran calmly stepping out of the forest, his wings properly folded behind him.
"Dr. Jackson?" Martouf asked dazedly. Why had the archaeologist come for him when no one knew where he was in the first place?
*Martouf, you are severely injured. I cannot heal all of your wounds. They are far too numerous,* Lakesh said, the symbiote shifting restlessly at the idea that his host was about to die.
*You must find a host, my friend, before you die with me,* Martouf answered the alien that lived inside of him.
"Martouf, are you okay?" Nyeran demanded, concern for the Tok'ra flashing across his blue eyes.
"Martouf is dying, Dr. Jackson. I fear that healing him this time is impossible," Lakesh said, taking over his host's dying body to speak.
"Take me then," Nyeran stated without hesitation, a little surprised at his own boldness. "But, I'll let you know now that my true name is not Daniel Jackson, it is Nyeran. I will explain it all to you later."
"Thank you, Nyeran," Martouf whispered a minute before his symbiote switched hosts, exhaling for the final time.
Nyeran picked up Martouf's still warm corpse and headed back to the Gate. There he stopped a moment to put on his duster and then he dialled Earth, sending his GDO ahead of him. He knew that Immortals could heal from pretty much almost anything, but he was positive that hitting the iris after exiting a wormhole would be fatal.
"Contact the Tok'ra and inform them that Martouf is dead," Nyeran said just as he stepped off of the ramp.
That night, Nyeran lay in his bed, speaking to the symbiote that now inhabited him.
*I must admit that your life isn't what I took it to be. Ten thousand years is a long time to live with mortals. This Immortality must be a curse,* Lakesh said.
*That's exactly what it is to some of my kind; a curse. Having to live while the friends and family that you've made die before you, or having to leave when they turn you out,* Nyeran responded.
*And no one knows of your existence except for the people on this entire base? Not even this Watcher's Council that you have spoken of?* Lakesh asked, curious about the small facts, worried about his existence in such a host.
*That's right, and I need to keep it that way,* Nyeran answered.
"Nyeran, are you in there?" Mitchell's voice came through the closed door.
"Come in, Mitchell!" Nyeran called back.
"I just came in to tell you that the Tok'ra will be coming tomorrow to take Martouf's body away. They've been asking questions about Lakesh. I told them that I didn't know where he was," Mitchell informed them.
Nyeran's head bowed briefly and his eyes flashed when he raised his head. "You did well, General Mitchell," Lakesh said in the double echo of a symbiote as it used its host's body to communicate. He did not mention the fact that he doubted that he could trust some of the Tok'ra.
"You know it's going to take a while to get used to that voice change thing," Mitchell commented and then he left the room, closing the door behind him.
The next day, early in the morning, Nyeran was outside of the base, but still on the grounds, exercising Firewing. The black Arabian had just fathered a foal, and Nyeran would get the horse after the first year if its life. He was so concentrated on the stallion and answering Lakesh's questions about horses that he didn't even notice a figure walk up to the coral until he passed again.
"Sam! It's good to see you," Nyeran said, hugging Sam after he got off of Firewing. "You came at a bad time. I never felt your buzz." He said, referring to her new found Immortality.
"I heard from the grapevine that Martouf died and that you took Lakesh in. I can't feel him in you," Sam told him, knowing that since she had been a temporary host, she could sense the symbiote in a body.
"The Tok'ra are coming today to take his body away for a proper burial. They shouldn't know about my wings, right?" even though Nyeran took great steps to protect his identity from the rest of the galaxy, he could never be sure if it was always protected.
"No, they shouldn't," Sam responded, patting Firewing's sturdy neck. "Come on, I bought you a latte on the way to the base. It's in my car."
"Ooh, latte!" Nyeran let his adult side drop for a moment, acting like a child for the fun of it. "Let me put him away and then meet me at the entrance, okay?"
Later that day, Nyeran and Sam were sitting in the mess hall, eating and talking about their preferred sciences, when Teal'c walked up to their table and told them that the Tok'ra had recently arrived for Martouf's body, and for answers to their questions. Slipping on his duster over his clean shirt, Nyeran led the way up to the briefing room.
"Nyeran, Teal'c, Sam. It's good of you to join us," Mitchell said as the trio pulled up a chair on one side of the table so they were facing the three Tok'ra that had come.
"Dr. Jackson..." one of the Tok'ra representatives, Garshaw, started when Mitchell held up a hand to stop her for a moment.
"His name is not Daniel Jackson, it is Nyeran. Don't ask me why he has that name, but I'll give you the file about his life before you leave," Mitchell told them.
"Very well, Nyeran, what were you doing on this planet?" Garshaw continued to ask her question, acting as if she had not been interrupted, though it irked her that the General would do such a thing.
"I was looking for any archaeological sites on the planet when I heard a commotion coming from a wooded area not all that far away from where I was. I investigated and shot the Jaffa when I realized what was going on. Martouf told me before he died that Lakesh had left him at his wishes so that at least one of them would be able to report what they had learned from their mission," Nyeran said, the lie rolling smoothly from his lips.
As Garshaw was about to speak again, the klaxons signalling an incoming wormhole began to blare loudly. Mitchell ran down the stairs into the control room with the others following him closely.
"Who is it?" he demanded.
"We have no off-world teams right now that are in the field," Walter replied as he tried to enter the command codes to the iris in order to get it to close. The same flashing red window kept popping up instead. "The iris is not responding!"
Walking purposely into the embarkation room, Nyeran turned to the soldiers and shouted at them. "Get out of here! Sam, get Methos and some weapons! Now!" he faced the Stargate as the last chevron locked into place, making sure that his sword was in easy reach and that he could slip out of his duster and shirt if he needed to. The event horizon splashed into existence, but he wasn't prepared when a couple of Anubis's super soldiers came through, firing the weapons at their wrists. He, and so had the rest of the base, thought that they had all been destroyed when Anubis had died, but obviously someone else was pulling these soldiers' strings. Drawing his broadsword and taking off the duster and shirt, Nyeran flew over the soldier's heads, distracting them as another walked through just as the wormhole was shut off from the control room.
*Be careful, Nyeran,* Lakesh told his new host mere moments before one of the super soldiers got lucky with one of its shots, hitting the Immortal in the wing. He winced as Nyeran's pain echoed over the link.
Tumbling out of control, Nyeran used his other wing to position himself in such a way that he sliced off one of the super soldiers' heads. Landing in a heap at the base of the Gate ramp, he looked up in time to see one of the two soldiers fire its wrist weapon at him, and everything turned dark.
"Nyeran!" Sam cried out just seconds after the blast hit her friend square in the chest, running to the now closed blast door just as Methos arrived loaded with rifles and with his Ivanhoe slung over his shoulder.
Rushing in the room as the blast door opened for the two Immortals, they fired their guns at the two soldiers, keeping them busy as Nyeran's Quickening woke him up. They changed their clips repeatedly and evaded the energy blasts until the thousand year old Immortal sliced of their heads without a second thought.
"Come on, let's go brace that wing," Methos said after he had handed an airman his rifle, knowing from past experience that Nyeran's wings would take a day at most to fully heal, not like a bodily injury. In the infirmary, as Methos gently probed the wing with the brace at his side, ready to be put on, Garshaw stormed in.
"You were this Hoc'tar all along? The alliance will not tolerate this incident lightly!" Garshaw angrily exclaimed.
"And you, Garshaw, do you think that I don't know what really happened on that planet, about you and Ba'al in cahoots with each other? When Martouf and Lakesh found out about it, you decided to have them killed to protect your own interests," Nyeran countered, standing up to stare her in the eyes at an even level.
"Insolent Tau'ri!" Garshaw hissed, whipping out a ribbon device and activating it as she drew a bead on Nyeran's head, smiling slightly at his cry of pain. She took the dagger from her belt as the SFs arrived on the scene, guns firing away. They stopped firing at her when their bullets impacted on a personal shield.
"Garshaw..." Lakesh surfaced for a moment before retreating. Any words that Nyeran tried to say after that were cut short when Garshaw plunged the dagger up through his chin, the tip piercing his brain.
Methos charged with his Ivanhoe while the traitor was killing Nyeran. He swung the blade in a mighty arc, the sharp edge cutting deeply into Garshaw's stomach. Her symbiote flew out of its hosts' dying body, but a single gunshot killed it before it could forcefully take over another host.
"Get him up on the bed and hold him completely still," Methos ordered a couple of nearby guards as he placed the bloodied sword on a nearby table. Once the body was up on a bed, Methos gripped the hilt and pulled the dagger out of his friend. Minutes later, Nyeran woke up.
"Thank you, old friend," Nyeran whispered before he shifted onto his side and fell asleep.
Pulling up to his house, Nyeran was surprised when he saw a light all ready on in the kitchen. The door was unlocked when he tried it, but it showed no signs of being picked open. Opening it, he silently entered. "Hello?" he called out once the door was closed so no one would see him if he had to draw his sword.
"Oh! Hi dad. I'm sorry. I was in the neighbourhood so I dropped in," Julia said as she exited the kitchen, a dish towel slung over her shoulder. "I also have a friend here with me from the institute. He's been telling me about this problem that the general public has with mutants. Logan, stop looking in the fridge! There's no beer!"
"Where's the car?" Nyeran asked.
"It broke down a mile or so out of town. I called for a tow truck to pick it up and to call here when it's ready," Julia answered as a short man came out of the kitchen, grumbling to himself about the lack of beer. "Dad, this is Logan. Logan, meet my father, Daniel Jackson, archaeologist and anthropologist."
"Bub, you really need to solve this thing about there being no beer," Logan said as he stuck an unlit cigar in his mouth.
"I'm sorry, but I don't expect people to come by and complain that I have no beer lying around the house. I don't drink much except for when my team and I get together once a week," Nyeran told him.
Just as Logan was about to say something else, his phone rang. Excusing himself from their presence, he answered the call in the back room. "Hello?"
"Logan, where are you?" the Professor's voice came over the line.
"I'm with that mutant that you detected a while back. We're at her father's place in Colorado Springs. Why? What's wrong?" Logan asked, edging closer to the door so he could keep an eye on Julia and her father.
"Is there anyone else with you?" the Professor demanded.
"Other than the father, no, there's no one else," Logan answered.
"Then it must be the father that I detected. The readings I got off of him from Cerebro were powerful. It tells me that he's neither mutant nor human. Jean feels that he's in danger from a group of people, but that he is quite dangerous," Charles Xavier replied, referring to Jean Gray, a telepath/telekinetic mutant and his prized machine that helped him to detect mutants by amplifying his own power.
"Do you want me to take him down?" Logan asked.
"No, just determine who he is exactly. We don't need Ms. Jackson mad at us," Xavier said and hung up.
Hanging up on his end, Logan let his claws slide silently out of his knuckles as he made his way back to the main room where Julia and her father were still talking. Without being noticed, he crossed the distance between him and Nyeran, then he slammed his claws into the other man`s back, careful to avoid anything vital.
"Who are you?" Logan snarled out over Nyeran's cry of pain and surprise.
"Logan, stop it!" Julia shouted at the feral mutant, fireballs forming in her outstretched hands. When he didn't reply, Julia allowed the fire to change into molten naquadah. She had discovered years ago that she could manipulate materials from other worlds as well as she could as if they were from Earth.
"Logan, remove your claws from my host's wings," Lakesh surfaced and ordered, startling both mutants.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my father's body?" Julia angrily demanded, recognizing the tone of the voice for what it was.
"Julia, Lakesh is trying to get Logan's claws out of my wing. And he broke my brace," Nyeran answered. "Do you mind calling Adam? He's going to be pissed."
As Julia was about to dial the number, Nyeran felt Methos' buzz coming from the outside of the house. "Never mind, he's here," he said. "Come in, old friend. I need a little help from you."
Methos entered and took in the scene with a glance. "Julia, get your father on the couch. You, whoever you are, back off," Methos ordered while releasing his hold on his hidden Ivanhoe. Quickly and efficiently, he whipped off the duster and shirt and removed the broken brace, ignoring Logan's response at the sight of the wings. "Nyeran, you truly are a trouble magnet. How is Lakesh handling this?"
"He's fine. He knows from my memories that we won't be using my wings for at least two days. First the weapon's blast, then my death and revival, and now this. I'm such a trouble magnet," Nyeran winced as the brace was reapplied to his wing, muttering a curse under his breath about the Immortal physician. "Logan. As to who I am, my name is Nyeran, the oldest Immortal alive. I am about ten thousand years old. Four years ago, I was experimented on during the time that the disappearances where occurring in Cincinnati, and I was given these wings as a result."
"I've got to make a call," Logan muttered out loud, still in shock about the entire revelation.
"To the person who called you before you asked who I was? Why not drive up there with me and show them instead of calling?" Nyeran asked. When Logan had finished thinking it over and had nodded his head in agreement, Nyeran turned to Methos. "Tell Mitchell that I'm leaving and that I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"
Pulling up to an Institution in upstate New York, Nyeran watched as Logan punched in a code on a keypad. Driving through the now open gates, he waited as Logan jumped back in the cab. He parked the borrowed car in front of the front door and got out, taking a look around. Nearby, a bunch of kids practiced with their powers. Suddenly, one of the youngsters used a bit too much power and a machine blew up, the largest chunk heading straight to Nyeran. Swinging his sword that he grabbed from its resting place, he batted the offending bit away from him.
"Good job for a human," a new voice said.
Whirling around, his sword held at the ready, Nyeran watched as a younger man wearing ruby red sunglasses walked out from the front door and down the front steps. "Correction on your part, I'm not human, I'm Immortal," Nyeran smirked at the young man's obvious surprise of the turn of events before he felt something speak to him inside his mind, unaware that his Quickening drew itself together, poised to strike the newcomer out if he or she intended any harm.
"That's what you are, but the other entity inside of you is confusing," the voice said, quite educated.
Cursing in a couple of ancient dialects, Nyeran hid his sword. His mind had been invaded and he only hoped that no one had found out about the Stargate. He would be deep in the shit pile for letting out the nation's most guarded secret out.
"Scott, please bring our guest to my study, if you please," the voice continued, evidence of humour as he listened in on the curses.
"Yes, Professor," the man named Scott said out loud as if this mind speaking thing was a daily occurrence, which it probably was. He led Nyeran inside and past groups of students as they left their classes to go outside as their teachers were called out to speak with the now confirmed Immortal.
Entering a lavish study, Nyeran eyed the odd group that stood in front of him as he was directed to a seat. Taking a breath once he knew that he wouldn't be harmed, he spoke out loud to the mutants. "My name is Nyeran. I am an Immortal. I prefer to stay hiding so no one will know who or what I am. I was born ten thousand years ago to a woman, a complete elemental, a mutant, though she never slept with any one at the time. I was considered a miracle child, but my clan killed my mother when I was weaned from her. They sent me out to the wilderness much later in life, where I was killed and I woke up to find that I was still alive, despite having my chest ripped open.
"I know who you all are. I researched this place for my daughter, Julia Jackson. You are Professor Charles Xavier, Ororo Monroe, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Logan and Rogue. I know that you can feel the other being inside me, Professor. Unfortunately, for everyone's sake, you can't know what it is. All I can tell you is that it is friendly and that it will not harm any of you, and unless you mean me harm, I will attack you, and no matter what you do, you will not stop me, unless you know how to kill me.
"I am a member of the most top secret organization in the world. I hope that you didn't read anything about it, Professor, because I would be forced to bring you in so you could sign a lot of non-disclosure agreements or to throw you in the brig for a damn long time, and believe me, it would be for a long time, for the few others of my kind who know about it would also back me up. We know what could happen if we stepped down and let the bad guys win; slavery and death to the entire world, no matter what species you are. We don't want the world to know because there would be wide spread panic in the streets.
"I agreed to come here with Logan to confirm that I am real. He has seen and heard a little more than what I have told you, but this trust must not be broken, so his mind must not be read. I will show you one thing that he has seen and that I can do so without being reprimanded," Standing up, Nyeran slowly undid the buttons on his duster and shrugged it off. With a deep sigh, he took off his shirt, allowing his wings to stretch out to his sides, the brace weighing one side down. "If you recall there was a rash of deaths in Cincinatti four years ago. They were truthfully experiments gone wrong. As a result of my survival, I was given these. I cannot divulge more information about who was responsible for this, since it strongly relates to the organization that I mentioned earlier, and I would end up in the brig if I opened my mouth, or my mind for that matter." Standing up, Nyeran slipped his clothes back on and turned for the door. "Thank you for listening to this story. I trust that you will not track down any more of my kind. And now, I will take my leave. Good bye."
As Nyeran drove back to Colorado Springs, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being followed. He knew that mutants wouldn't dare to do so, not unless they were suicidal at best. After pulling out of a remote gas station, he saw the headlights of a semi bearing down on him. Twisting the wheel, he threw his hands up as if that would protect him from dying again when he realized that he would flip.
Stepping out of the semi truck, the driver, a member of the Trust, watched as the rest of his team extracted the body from the mangled wreck of the truck and inject the corpse with a specially designed serum. The driver climbed back into the rig as the team jumped back into the trailer, Nyeran's still body with them.
The next day, early in the morning, Nyeran awoke to a fist hitting him in the stomach. Grunting out what little air he had in his lungs, he barely felt the hand tangled in his hair, pulling his head back up.
"What the fuck do you want with me?" The Immortal asked once he had regained his second wind.
"How do you work, Dr. Jackson?" A man said, avoiding the question.
"Screw you," Nyeran hissed and immediately regretted it. A large, rough hand grabbed his, and with a twist and a hard squeeze, broke his hand. Swallowing a scream of pain, the Immortal's hope faded as his quickening was slow to respond. He started to panic, but he didn't allow anyone to see that as he schooled his face to a neutral expression.
"Oh, yes, Dr. Jackson. We do know about your accelerated healing abilities. We gave you a serum last night to nullify the effects. It's been proven on others like you," the lead man said, smiling wickedly at an inside thought. "Go ahead boys. Have your fun."
Back at Cheyenne Mountain, both Sam and Methos crumpled as if in pain. They could feel that something was wrong as they worked on blocking the pain. A call to a friend in the Watcher's Council confirmed that every Immortal in the world was experiencing pain.
"Sir, Mitchell, something's happened to Nyeran. Methos found Julia packing for war. She's convinced that she can find him faster than we can," Sam told Mitchell once she had gotten over the sudden mental attack.
"I believe you. Take SG teams 3, 4, and 7. Bring him back Carter," Mitchell said. Within thirty minutes, the teams were loaded into three hummers, their radios tuned to a private channel. They followed a burnt trail that Julia had laid down on her pell-mell ride on Firewing's back.
Late in the afternoon, Nyeran sat in the chair he was strapped to, feeling so tired. He knew that he was dying; a private talk with Lakesh had confirmed it. Tensing ever so slightly at the sound of footsteps, he realized that coming out of this alive was very unlikely.
"Hold him down, boys," came the order. Hands held down the Immortal securely as the head honcho approached with a syringe filled with a clear fluid and plunged it into Nyeran's arms, depressing the plunger.
Nyeran screamed like the damned as the liquid took effect. Before he knew it, he was outside and had been thrown into a hole in the ground, his body shaking in response to the drug that coursed through his veins. His eyes soon only saw dirt as it was dumped on him, burying him alive. Then he saw no more.
Firewing reared suddenly as Julia struggled to stay on the young stallion as he pelted down the trail faster than he had ever run in his entire life, forcing the mutant to throw her fireballs at a faster pace. Then she came upon a military bunker. Dismounting, she silently made her way to a window and listened in on the conversation as the men spoke below her.
"Jackson's dead and buried. Now the only thing we have to worry about are those at the SGC and his daughter. Mind you all, she's a mutant, and a powerful one at that," one of the men said out loud.
Running back to Firewing, Julia cried as the implication hit her hard. She smiled in relief when her fireballs killed the men inside the bunker, turning the concrete into molten rock. Turning away from the bonfire, she looked for signs of recent digging, but there was none that she could see. The only thing that actually stood out was the parked crane that sat next to a large block of cement.
"No!" she screamed, her hand, palm forward, shot forward, calling forth all of her power to call the Earth, making it rise and displace the cement block, collecting beneath her father to bring him to the surface.
When the hummers came in, the occupants stared in disbelief as Julia wept over her father`s body, Firewing standing close by, his proud head weighed down by exhaustion and sadness while a huge fire burned behind them.
"Nyet!" Julia roared out at the sky in Russian, her anguish clear enough to be heard through her despair.
Sam got out of the first hummer that had arrived on the scene. Here was a man who was so much older than her, who had told her what she truly was, a man who had been brought down by what he had once been so many years ago. A mortal.
"Let's bring him home, Julia, she told the young mutant, not noticing Nyeran's chest start to rise again until she felt a hand grab hers. Turning, she saw a pair of piercing blue eyes staring straight at her.
Sorry for the long wait, people. I wasn't feeling like writing for a long time. Anyways, I finally finished chapter two and I'll try to hurry up and post the next instalment of the story.
The next chapter occurs fifteen year later than chapter two. Nyeran comes to the rescue when the super volcano on Yellowstone National Park erupts and reveals that he was around when it last happened.
For those of you who have no idea what a super volcano is, look it up. It is basically just a normal sized volcano with at least five times more magma and stuff. I'll try to explain it better in the next chapter.
