Date: Mon, 5 Feb 1996 11:47:46 CST Reply-To: "sraghava@st1.clc.cc.il.us" Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: "sraghava@st1.clc.cc.il.us" Organization: College of Lake County Subject: Connections- Highlander ONLY. part 1 of ?? X-cc: Nebojsa Barjaktarevic **I've always been bored by fics about new immies and how they grow and shit like that. I've never much cared for fics 'bout really old immies who don't want to live anymore and want Mac to take their heads, GET REAL! So this story is 'bout an old immie, older that Mac but still exploring the infinite possibilities of existence(yes, it's clique.). Since we started watching the show, my brother and I have wondered about Indian immies and the only Indian immies in the series was a really big S.O.B. so I created my own. This is my first attempt at fanfic so please be merciful.** -----------------------------------* * *------------------------ => Present Day. Cairo, Egypt "In the end . . . THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!" With those words the tall, blond man with a scar running down his right cheek took the head of a fiery red-haired woman of Mid-13th century Paris. Pain surged through his body, as rods of lightning were hurled into him from the prostate corpse lying on the hard cement next to him. He saw the face of Juan Ramirez as the woman's Teacher. He saw a short albino he did not recognize as her first Quickening. He saw many other faces, mortal and immortal, he saw her first love, he saw her life flash before his eyes and then the pain spiked beyond reckoning and immediately it stopped. All that could be heard afterward was the man's laughter, immediately he stopped. "Now for Shankar, the the Highlander. Ha, Ha, Ha!!!" And the maniacal laughter continued on into the night. ------------------* * *------------------------------------------- Duncan stopped practicing his sword forms as his head started Buzzing, telling the presence of another immortal. He immediately stood to attention and said, " I am Duncan Macleod, of the Clan Macleod. Show Yourself!" "Very good Macleod, you know your name. I'm definately impressed. Last time we met, you could barely count to one without falling asleep drunk." "I've gotten drunk many a time with others of our kind close by. That tells me nothing of who you are." "Is your memory that bad Macleod? Think back to Rome the '1 over the 8' bar, 1645." Slowly the memory resurfaced and Macleod realized who he was talking to. "Vijay, is that you?? Good Lord, it's been nearly 350 years. Where the hell have you been??" ---------------* * *-------------------------------------------- Duncan was so inebriated that he barely noticed as the ugly hag laughed in his face. Neither did he acknowledge the voice calling his name. "Duncan, Duncan, wake up damnit. Damnit if you don't wake up right now I'll leave you here and let you get your head chopped off by the next idiot who has nothing better to do with his time." Those words promptly awoke Duncan, barely, from his drunken stupor. "I shey, that'sh not that too very niesh to shey, it is." "I'm surprised you'd notice in you current state, Macleod, you're not exactly in a condition to . . . " Vijay stopped as the Buzz hit them both at exactly the same time. Vijay sighed, "This one's for me, I expect." "What makesh yeah saysh that? He couldsh be heres for me, couldn'tsh he?" Vijay chuckled at that inquiry. "Macleod you're not even 50 years old yet. No where near enough to make a reputation for yourself, to speak nothing of having random immortals after yer' head. I, however, am old enough to have a pretty large reputation for myself." Before Macleod could give a drunken retort they saw a man enter the bar. He was handsome in a way, strong yet agile, almost tall enough to look down upon the earth with the eyes of a god, or so the peasants in the bar seemed to think. The man mad a beeline for Duncan and Vijay's table. He proclaimed in a loud, booming voice, " I am Alexander Bartholemew Jackson. I am seeking Vijay Shankar, former Student of Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez." "That was not the name I knew him under, but yes, he was my Teacher, although I don't see why that should interest you?" "I, too am a former Student of his, and since the old man is now dead before I could take his head, I've decided to destroy all of his students, one by one. So, since you are the closed to my age, I've decided to give you the honor of being the first to die by my hand." "Oh, you're far too kind. I'm so honored that I'm speechless. What do you want me to say?" The sarcasm literally oozed from Vijay's mouth. Jackson was taken aback. "I want you to say you'll fight me, you fool." "Oh, very well, I suppose so, if it'll make you feel any better." "Ands whatsh abouts me, then", inquired Macleod to the pompous man who had challenged Vijay. "And who might you be, young one?" "I AM DUNCAN MACLEOD OF THE CLAN MACLEOD!!" "Ah, yes, Connor's Student and cousin. I'll get back to you in a couple of centuries when you're worth the trouble," replied Jackson. "Ahem, I'm the one you were Challenging, "pointed out Vijay, "would you care to get on with it?" "Yes, yes. Into the alley with us, we'll end it now." They both walked into the dirty, rotten, filth-ridden, rat-infested alley side by side both keeping an eye on the other, neither trusting the other. They squared off and began testing each other's skills. Quite quickly battle was joined in earnest. Both were now fighting for their lives. Time passed. All things outside the fight blurred. By now Vijay had a cut on his sword arm, on his shoulder, and a cut on his left thigh. Jackson had a cut on his right thigh, his left thigh, and his left (sword arm) wrist. The two men were near equals, and as Alexander realized this, he knew that he had to pull out before an error on his part could kill him. He slowly started becoming defensive and backing away to fight again later. Not caring if he took the man's head today or not, Vijay let the man go, but left him with a little passing memento that would endure the healing power of Immortality. "Aaaaah. You cut my cheek," exclaimed Jackson! And the man was right, there was a huge gash across his right cheek, that would scar even after healing. So with that Jackson pulled away and ran off into the night. But his voice could still be heard. "Another time Shankar, another time. Ha, Ha, Ha!" And the maniacal laughter continued on into the night. ---------------* * *--------------------------------------------- "Around, I've been around." "So what are you doing here," inquired Macleod? "Jackson's back, and he's after my head. Yours too, I expect." ===>End of Part 1. <=== Please send all comments, advice and suggestions to sraghava@st1.clc.cc.il.us If I get enough good responses I'll go on to Part 2. Vatsan "Kinslayer" Raghavan sraghava@st1.clc.cc.il.us "What can I do to make you believe that I'm mortal?"-Q -"Die."-Worf --"Oh very funny, Worf. Eat any good books lately?"--Q. =========================================================================