Date: Tue, 4 Apr 1995 14:12:05 CDT Reply-To: "Thomas D. Haynes" Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: "Thomas D. Haynes" Subject: PG-13 Story: Better to burn out 1 of ? It's better to burn out than to fade away by Tom Haynes This is a crossover between Sliders, the tv show, and The Highlander. For those of you who don't watch Sliders, the basic premise is that four adventurers are fated to travel to different versions of reality; searching for the one they originated from. They have no control over which dimension they are traveling to, and also they do not know how long they will stay in each dimension they visit. We don't really know if things have to come back to their home dimension, i.e. assuming that the remote control unit the party has was working properly. For this story, it is assumed that things normally have to return. There won't be any explicit sex or foul language in this series, but due to the nature of some of the characters, there will be extreme carnage. (just not the gory details) This is going to be PG-13 in content. As for which rules, i.e. movie or tv, that the immortals are controlled by, I plan on taking a mixture of them both. Part I The time: The middle of the night in the Spring of 1995 The place: A deserted park. A circular hole opened up in the middle of the park; blue waves travel from the center to the edges. A portly figure is ejected from the hole, and it quickly rolls away from the opening. Three other figures follow it: a young man and woman and an older black man. They dusted themselves off as the portly man examines what appears to be a remote control for a state of the art home entertainment unit. "Well professor, how much time do we have?", asks the sprite girl. "It appears that we have a week here Wade.", Prof. Maximillian Arturo replies. "Just great! There better not be anymore cannibals. I don't think I could sit in one more pot.", said the black man. "I don't know Rembrandt, things don't look to good here.", chipped in the last of the sliders, the young man. "What do you mean Quinn?", asked Rembrandt Brown. "Take a look at how run down the park looks. People here just don't seem to care.", replied Quinn Mallory. "Clang, Clang, Aargh.", carried through the night air. "What was that?", asked Wade Wells. "Sounds like a fight, someone might need our help.", replied Quinn as he raced into the night, towards the sounds of battle. "I thought we agreed never to split the party!", said Rembrandt as he and the others took off after the young genius. They found Quinn embracing a body. He was crying. "No! Not again! Please don't go Dad, just hold on?", sobbed Quinn. "Quinn, son? I thought you were ...", gasped the form which stilled after one last spasm. "Quinn!", "What happened?", "Are you okay?", asked the group. "There was some guy standing over him, with a sword raised above his head. He said, *There can be only one!*. Then he laughed and left. I tried to stop the bleeding, but the cut was too deep.", said Quinn as he still cradled the body. "Look here, another sword!", said Wade. She held up a saber. "Your dad also had a scabbard on, Quinn. It must have been a duel.", said the Professor. "We better search his pockets. Maybe we'll find some local currency and some form of identification." Quinn batted aside the professor's hands and carried out the search himself. His father had some keys and a wallet. Inside the wallet there was some paper money. Instead of being the usual green, it was purple. The pictures were not of George Washington, but of some brown curly headed man. "Whoever he is he sure looks evil.", said Quinn. "I don't know, I think he looks strong, like a bear, a big cuddly bear.", said Wade. Quinn looked at her as she said that. Clearly he didn't like her having thoughts of other men. "I know I've seen that face before. Turn it over.", said Rembrandt. Quinn did, and read out the inscription, "Well it doesn't say *IN GOD WE TRUST*, but rather *THERE _IS_ ONLY ONE*. Whatever that means." "It means that Evil Incarnate rules the world.", said a voice from the darkness. It sounded just like Quinn's voice. The sliders heard "shinng", as a figure stepped out of the shadows. It was a second Quinn, with a broadsword in his hand. "Now prepare to die. My father will be avenged!", QuinnII said as he raised his sword in his hands and advanced on the party. QuinnI stepped from behind his friends, "Wait! He was my father too.". The other Quinn stopped, and looked at his doppleganger. "What trickery is this?" "We're not from this earth. We have traveled from another dimension.", said the Professor. "I am not going to fall for one of your famous of your tricks Arturo. You may be the best swordsman on the continent, but you have not yet faced Quinn Mallory!", cried QuinnII as he swiped at the portly professor. The professor ducked down and picked up the saber that Quinn's father had dropped. He quickly struck a en' guarde position. "I must warn you that in my student days I was highly regarded as a fencer. I would have gone to the Olympic Games if I hadn't had to ... Ooof.", cried the professor as he deflected another of the mad swings from this world's Quinn. As Quinn started to wind up for another swing, the professor reached out and smartly tapped QuinnII's knuckles with the flat of his blade. QuinnII dropped to the ground, bowed his head, and said, "Get it over with!". "My boy, what are you talking about?", inquired the professor. "Take my head! Like you wanted to do to my father.", cried QuinnII. "Quinn, we really are from another dimension.", said Wade. "I will not believe either my evil twin or the *Crying Man* or the Butcher of California, but I will believe the fair maiden.", said QuinnII as he rose to his feet. "I think I'm going to throw up.", muttered QuinnI to Rembrandt. "Hey, at least you know you are alive in this world.", was the only reply he got. "Didn't you hear him, he didn't speak of you in the past tense.", said QuinnI. Suddenly a whistle shattered the quiet night air. "Quick, we must leave. Anyone caught out after curfew will be sent to the games.", said the second Quinn as he quickly stripped the scabbard and a ring off of his dead father. They slipped into the shadows of the night. QuinnII took them through alleys and behind houses in a tortuous path to a quite familiar house. As they entered the house, Quinn's mother appeared, "Did you find him honey?" "No mom, I found him. He's dead.", said QuinnII. He rushed forward to cradle her as she slumped to the ground. He took his crying mother upstairs to her bedroom. The others took some time to examine the living room. "Looks like my house.", said QuinnI. "There don't seem to be any other family members.", said Rembrandt as he examined the collection of family pictures. "I wonder exactly when this world split off from ours. It must have been recently." "What do you mean, split?", asked QuinnII as he stepped into the room from the stairway. "I've found a gateway between alternate dimensions. We travel from reality to reality. Each is different from next. For example, on our world we don't carry swords, and my dad was run over years ago.", said QuinnI. "Do you have a lab in the basement?" "No, we've got a fencing salon.", said QuinnII. "Why the need for swords? Won't guns do?", asked the professor. "You never know when you'll get picked up for the Games.", said QuinnII. "What are these games you keep on mentioning?", asked Wade. "There is an ongoing tournament to find the best swordsman in the land. Every month a new candidate, actually the survivor of that round, is sent up against the Overlord. It is hoped that one day he will be killed, and we will be freed from his iron hand.", said QuinnII. "Overlord. Who is he?", asked Rembrandt. "We don't know his real name, he is simply known as The Kurgan. Rumor has it he is the last of a breed of immortals who vied for some prize, and he won. He is said to be able to sense the thoughts of all men, and he ruthlessly rules the world. The only way to kill him is to chop off his head.", said QuinnII. "I knew I recognized that guy on the dollar bill, it was Clancy Brown, the actor.", said Wade. "You mean that guy from Earth2 and Buckaroo Banzai?", asked Rembrandt. "And The Highlander.", said QuinnI. "We must have slid into a world in which the immortals depicted in the movie actually lived and fought their battles until the Gathering took place." "Yes, and in this world The Kurgan won, instead of Connor MacLeod! I wonder if the tv series was also tied into this world?", asked the professor. Everyone turned to look at him, and he said, "A guy's got to get entertainment somewhere." "Wait a minute, you said the professor here is the best swordsman around. Obviously he isn't dead, so why hasn't he been sent to fight against this Kurgan?", asked Rembrandt. "He's exempt from the games, the official ones that is. It is forbidden to practice swordplay, so the only way to get any experience is to duel at night. Arturo is famous for killing many of our candidates.", said QuinnII. "Why is he exempt?", asked the professor. "He is a favorite of The Kurgan. When the Overlord is not in California, then Arturo rules. In some ways, the Overlord is preferred.", said QuinnII. "I'm sorry I asked.", said the professor. "How long will we be safe here?" "What do you mean?, asked QuinnI. "Both his mother and father seemed surprised to see him, and his father was actively searching for him. Who is hunting you?", asked the professor. "The Kurgan. He seems to think that I am some threat. He went through the Bay area on a rampage a month ago, and I managed to get away from him. He's been in Canada for a couple of weeks, and now he's let it be known that he is after my head.", said QuinnII. "Do you hear a buzzing when he is near? Maybe the Gathering is not completely over.", asked the professor. "No, it was over a long time ago Arturo.", said the giant warrior who walked in from the kitchen. with an equally giant broadsword. "Strange, I would have sworn I killed your earlier tonight when you finally gathered enough courage to resist me. Stranger yet, I see two of Quinn Mallory. Guess I'll have to kill you both. Which one first?", said Kurgan. "How did you get here?", asked QuinnII as he drew his broadsword from its scabbard. "Even I have some limits to my power. I couldn't separate your mind from those of the rest of the world, from a distance that is. I knew you would break down and visit your parents. You should have killed them, like I did mine.", said The Kurgan. The Kurgan started to swing his broadsword over his head. He approached the party of adventurers. The professor once again got out the saber, but it looked like it would shatter against the giant sword wielded by The Kurgan. A weird grimace came over the face of the approaching swordsman. "A pre-Immortal, here, impossible. Which one of you is it?", said Kurgan. "As I live and breath, if it isn't Rembrandt Brown. I took your head right before the Gathering. You cried like a baby, but I took it anyway." With that The Kurgan lowered his broadsword. "Something funny is going on here.", he said. A look of extreme contemplation replaced the one of contempt that normally adorned his face. Suddenly his head snapped up, "You are not from my world! I can not see you via the Prize.". He turned his attention to QuinnII, and concentrated, "So, you are from an alternate reality. One in which the Gathering never occurred. Things haven't been this interesting since the Gathering." He sheathed his sword. "It will be light soon, take them!", he cried. Several guards burst into the room and quickly overpowered the group. "Master, there are two of him! We only have one casket, what will we do?", asked the most intelligent of the guards. "That one is the last of the vampires. The others are mortal.", said The Kurgan. He saw the shocked look on the faces of the party from the alternate reality. "What's the matter, didn't he tell you that there was more than one breed of immortals on this planet. Really, hunting them has been the only real entertainment I have had since taking Duncan MacLeod's head to win the Prize!", he said as the party was knocked unconscious. The very last thing they heard was the howl of some crazed animal. End of Part I -- Tom Haynes haynes@hpserv.keh.utulsa.edu || haynes@euler.mcs.utulsa.edu http://hpserv.keh.utulsa.edu/~haynes/haynes.html All opinions are mine, and are not those of the University of Tulsa. =========================================================================