Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Rysher Entertainment and Davis/Panzer productions. Defenders of the Earth belongs to Marvel, King Features Entertainment and Hearst Entertainment. Owen MacLeod belongs to co - writer Roland Cain and along with some of the story, I got to use with permission. Tori Gordon, Janet Elisionne and Jack Banks are characters that I own.
"Immortals. That is what we are. From the dawn of time, we came; moving silently through the centuries, living many secret lives, struggling to reach the time of the Gathering, when the few who remain will battle to the last. No one has ever known we were among you…...until now. That is what we are. We are Immortal. Holy ground is our only refuge and the only way we die is if another Immortal takes our head, and with that, our power. In the end, there can be only one."
(Cue Princes of the Universe)
Starring
Jack Turpin
Kehli O'Byrne
Adrian Paul
Alexandra Vandernoot
Ellie Cornell
Stan Kirsch
(Princes of the Universe ends)
The Gathering
Special Guest Star
Christopher Lambert as Connor MacLeod
and
Richard Moll as Slan Quince
Guest starring
Markie Post as Janet Elisionne
Central City — 2:30 pm Intergalactic Union Agency
Her mother's agents weren't strong enough. The hovering sorceress was owning them.
Tori watched the fight from Control Room Four, eyes locked onto the video screen. Her mother had sent a lone SWAT team out. Their mission was to capture the girl named Veena, who was wreaking havoc on Lakeview Square. Veena was the daughter of Damian Dark, a powerful man who had led her astray. They had been conquering smaller towns. Now they were after a larger one.
It seemed Damian hadn't come this time. Maybe he wanted to test the girl. Knowing how powerful Veena was — according to info she'd found on her — Tori had dispatched two extra teams, units that her mom didn't know about. They were supposed to be arriving soon. The squads weren't headed to the battle, though. Tori wanted them in areas nearby.
She focused her gaze onto Veena Dark, a raven-haired teen with her locks in a bun, a black cape cloaking her gray outfit. She wasn't much older than Tori herself. Something about her seemed a little familiar. Whenever the unit opened fire on Veena, she would teleport a few yards aside, the thin laser beams hitting nothing but air. Then she'd respond with a wave of her hand, summoning winds that blew the agents away. She'd attack others with magical ice, making them slip as they scurried about. She was having fun — toying with them. Her lips had curled into a lengthy smirk.
Tori sat down and slipped a headset on. She needed to know where her two teams were. "Echo Group, are you in position?"
"Standing by, Tori," a young man said. "We just arrived."
"Proceed as planned," she told the unit. "Do not join Bravo at the battle site."
Veena swung her arms. Agents flew, screaming as they crashed into nearby trees.
Tori pulled her left leg up on the chair, telling herself to remain composed. "Delta Team, are you on location?"
"Negative, Tori. We need one minute."
"Follow our plan when you reach the site." She rested a hand over her bare foot, directing her attention at the unit in battle. "Bravo Team, this is Agent T. I will be your guide for the rest of this mission."
"Copy that, Tori," the leader replied, catching his breath as he ran about.
"Those weapons you're using aren't going to work," Tori advised. "I want you to switch to B-44s."
"Switch to what?"
"The light-blue bazookas with hollow shells."
About a minute later, four of the agents had switched their weapons. Each took aim at Veena Dark, who watched in unabashed arrogance.
"Set your blasts to Slow," Tori instructed.
"What?" said the leader, twitching on-screen. "She'll see the shells coming way before they hit."
"Do as I've ordered," Tori remarked, squinting as she focused on the hovering girl.
The leader paused, then turned to his team. "Blasts on Slow."
They made the adjustments, then aimed once more.
Tori leaned forward. "Fire," she said.
The men pulled the triggers. Spheres flew forth, gliding upward as they drifted toward Veena, giving her plenty of time to respond.
And Veena responded as Tori had figured — with thick blasts of lightning from both of her hands, an attack that Tori's research had discovered.
The spheres exploded as the lightning hit. The gas that they held quickly spread through the air. Veena flinched, clearly surprised — and then she began coughing up a storm.
She tumbled to the ground, down on one knee.
"Bravo Team forward," Tori commanded. "Secure the target."
The agents rushed forth.
Veena stood, waving a hand, the other one still clamped beneath her nose. She looked quite drowsy as she stumbled about.
Then she teleported away from the site. The men looked around. They couldn't find her.
Tori hopped up. "Echo Team, prepare to engage. Delta Team, prepare to engage. The target will likely arrive in a moment." According to the research that Tori had done, Veena could only teleport two miles. She'd probably flee toward a nearby park — to one of the places where the teams were waiting.
Tori hit a button, seeing both units, each appearing via a sharp split-screen.
Veena teleported near Echo Team.
"Trigger the pyramid now, Commander," Tori told an agent.
A man on-screen used a handheld gadget. A force-field erupted right out of the grass, trapping Veena in a pyramid.
Veena shook again. Then she scowled, dropping to her knees as she fidgeted. Tori knew the girl couldn't warp away. Teleportation took energy. The field was sapping most of Veena's now.
"Good job, Commander," Tori remarked. "Wait a few minutes for the target to tire, then lower the field, and bring her in." She shifted her gaze to the other screen. "Delta Team, halt. Bravo Team, halt. Target secured. Target secured."
Ten minutes later, Tori's mother Janet had entered the room. She stood with a phone pressed against her ear. "Thank you, Mr. Mayor," she said with a smile. "I'm glad that our agency could be of service. I have the greatest weapon in the world on my side, greater than the Necklace of Oros even." Janet brushed a hand over Tori's head. "I have my beautiful daughter's mind. No matter how powerful an enemy is, I promise that Victoria can find their weakness."
Tori looked away, squirming a bit. Her mother was certainly exaggerating. Tori was smart, but not that smart. She wouldn't have the answer every single time. Apart from that, it irked her that her mother had called her a weapon.
She knew her Aunt Dale wouldn't ever do that.
Tori got up and left the woman behind, making her way toward the central room. She entered a space that was huge and gray, laden with computers and enormous screens. Everyone was toiling away at their work — poking at tablets, pointing at maps, pushing full carts of equipment in.
Several heads turned as she crossed the floor. Most people knew who she was by now. It wasn't because her mom ran the place — at least, Tori liked to think that it wasn't. People recognized her for the work that she'd done. She'd earned a gold medal in Strategy. She'd gotten compliments from the government. She'd proven so skilled ever since she'd arrived, that people felt that she would take over one day.
Storming through the room, she eyed a gold emblem underneath her toes, a circle with the letters IUA spread across.
Her steps carried her to a balcony rail. A little breeze lifted her blonde hair. She let her eyes settle on her fluttering locks, then stared at the beautiful city ahead. This was the town that she'd grown up in, alongside her cousins, her uncle, and aunt. Leaving it was going to be particularly hard, but that was the decision she'd reached last night. It was finally time for her to spread her wings, away from the city, away from her mom.
Tori was born in a heroic clan, born to a family that defended the Earth. They couldn't take all of the credit for that, but the Gordons helped keep the planet safe — safe from rogue witches, safe from mad moguls, and safe from aliens like the tyrant Ming. Everybody knew about Dale and Flash. Everybody knew the name Gordon well. Her aunt was a legend. Her uncle was too.
But her mother Janet was a very black sheep.
According to the research that Tori had done, her mother was reckless when shooting one day.
Her father, Ian, had paid the price.
That was when Janet had gone to jail. Tori went to live with her uncle and aunt. She'd only been four back when that had occurred. Her younger cousin April was her dearest companion. She was very close to Cousin Rick as well. Was she truly ready to leave them behind?
This wasn't like before, two years back, when a court had placed her with Janet again, when her mother finally got back on her feet. Though she hadn't liked moving in with her mom, her cousins were a mere bus ride across town.
This would be different. This would be hard. Now she was actually leaving the state.
"Tor?"
She heard her mother's voice from behind.
Tori paused a moment, then faced the woman.
"What's going on?" Janet inquired. "Why did you rush from the room like that?"
She took a slow breath. "I can't do this," she managed to mutter. "I mean you and me. I can't do us. I'm just not ready — at least not yet."
Janet stared, then heaved a sigh. "I know that I've never been an ideal mom…" She glanced away. "But I'm trying here, Tor."
"I know that you are…but I need space."
Janet looked irked. "You're going to move back in with Flash and Dale?"
"No," she mumbled. "I need a new start." Tori straightened up. "I'm transferring to the Seacouver team. I'm leaving Central City for Washington state."
Two Months Later
It was a moonlit night. A young boy walked carefully through the quiet streets of Seacouver, Washington. He looked around and started walking toward a closed store. He crossed the alleyway, then headed around the side of the building. He snuck down the side of the alley and past a parked T-Bird. He looked through the window with a penlight, looking upon the antiques inside the shop. Using a device, he cut a hole in the glass and disabled the alarm connected to the window. Lifting up the window with a piece of wood, he climbed inside.
"Check it out," he said to himself. "One night only, everything must go."
Upstairs, a young couple was having fun together, oblivious to what was going on. Or were they? Suddenly, the man sat up, looking panicked.
"I feel something," said Duncan MacLeod.
"I hope so," replied the girl and attempted to continue, but he stopped her.
"No. Someone's here."
"I didn't hear anything."
Duncan pulled a dragonhead katana sword from under the coffee table.
"Neither did I," he said, holding the blade close.
"Mac," said the girl.
He got up, slowly made his way out of the living room and down the loft.
"Duncan, be careful," begged the girl.
As for the boy, he had filled his bag with several items, before he noticed a rapier sword in a display case. With a sense of childish imagination, he unlocked the case and took out the sword.
"En garde, you fool! Wssst," he said, making swishy noises for the effects.
He swung the sword from left to right and felt a loud clash as it hit what sounded like steel. He turned his head and saw Owen MacLeod, holding his own dragonhead katana sword.
"I am Owen MacLeod... of the Clan MacLeod... and there can be only one," Owen said, darkly.
"Uh... only one?" asked the boy, slowly backing away from him and lowering the sword. "Whoa, heheh. Geez, I ripped off a couple of cups and a bowl; I'm sorry, all right? Here - take 'em. They're all in the bag. I'll pay for the window."
"This is my dad's place," Owen replied.
"So? It's over. Okay?"
"It's over when one of us takes the head, now pick it up!" demanded Owen, gesturing to the rapier.
"Take the head?! You don't think that's a little extreme for petty theft? Hey dude, chill. Your dad's insurance will cover it."
"Owen, what're you doing here?" came a voice.
The boys turned and saw Duncan standing across from them, with the girl behind him.
"Headhunting," answered Owen. "I found him in here."
"But he's just a boy," objected the girl.
"You know what? You should call the police," the boy relented. "In fact, I tell you what, I'll call them myself. Got a phone?"
"You're not the headhunter, are you?" asked Owen, lowering his sword.
"There's someone…" Duncan trailed off.
Suddenly, a large man crashed through skylight above, yelling out. He landed inside the shop, a large mask covering his face.
"Whoa!" cried the boy. "I'm on like 'America's Funniest Home Videos', right?"
They ignored him as the intruder pulled a large broadsword from his long coat.
"MacLeod!" shouted the intruder, "I'm Slan Quince and I've come for your head."
He swung and struck an item in the shop with his blade.
"This is very uncool, guys," said the boy.
"Shut the fuck up, dude," snapped Owen, who stood in defense.
Quince stepped forward and turned his attention to the girl. Something was in his eyes as he addressed her.
"We haven't been properly introduced, but you'll get to know me, my dear."
"Mac!" the girl called to Duncan, who raised his blade in defense.
"I've been looking for you myself," said Owen, pointing his sword at Quince. "Now, did you come to fight or talk?"
"He's not gonna fight you, Nephew," said a voice.
Everyone turned and saw Connor MacLeod standing at the window, wearing a beige trench coat and wielding a white braid katana of his own. His brown hair had been cut short with a tiny beard. He stepped forward as he circled Quince.
"Not until he's made you suffer..." he continued. "Until he's destroyed everything you love in this world... until you don't know whether you want to live or die. That's your way, right, Slan?"
"Connor, are you headhunting too?" asked Owen.
"Yes. Sorry, Owen, but this one is mine."
"Man, these guys are out there," said the boy, retreating to the open window.
"Let the boy go," Connor told Duncan and Owen.
"My challenge was to Duncan MacLeod, not you, whoever you are," spoke Quince.
"I'm Connor MacLeod - same clan, different vintage."
"Ah, yes. You!" spoke the headhunter as all MacLeods raised their swords. "Ha! Not three against one. Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk."
"Thanks, Slan," teased Connor. "I know the rules. You and me. Now."
Connor attacked Quince and they started to fight, but just as Quince cleared space with a nearby object, they heard police sirens.
"It sounds to me like we're about to have company, gentlemen," Quince said as the sirens got louder. "I just wanted to meet the charming lady of the house."
He ran over to the front store window before turning back to the MacLeods.
"Ha-ha. Until we meet again!" he laughed, as he broke the front store window with the butt of his sword and jumped through.
Connor stepped forward, only for Duncan to block his way with his blade. Connor looked at Duncan, who smirked and moved the blade away. Connor smirked and walked to the window.
"Heh-heh-heh. You look good," he teased Duncan and exited through the window.
"I'll be off now," Owen said. "See you at the station tomorrow."
Owen exited through the window and out into the dark night.
The next day, Owen went to the police station where he met Duncan. They entered and found Police Detective Sergeant Thomas Powell, having identified the boy.
"I was asked to come in and identify a boy who broke into my store last night," Duncan told the detective.
"Richie Ryan?" asked Powell.
"If that's his name, then yes," answered Owen.
"Look, I don't understand," said Powell. "We caught this kid. We can make a good case against him, but not if you don't press charges."
"Sorry. No charges," replied Duncan.
"Look, let me tell you two something. This punk is trying to get off the hook by saying he DIDN'T break in. That he heard a disturbance, looked inside. He saw three men with drawn swords having it out."
Duncan and Owen laughed together, much to the sergeant's confusion.
"Did he also see a guy in a bat costume and a long cape?" joked Owen. "And a short kid dressed in red and green tights?"
"Okay," laughed Powell sarcastically, "Anyway. Now he had jewelry from your shop in his pocket when we nabbed him running from the scene. We've got him dead-to-rights."
"Sorry," Duncan said. "Can I talk to him before you let him go?"
"If I let you out of here, I do not want anyone coming around asking about your little fantasies," warned Duncan. "That is the deal."
"Fantasies? Oh, you mean like the one where you and the Knights of the Round Table were, uh, wheee tseee tseeee tseee tseee, right?" asked Richie, imitating the swordfight. "Never saw a thing. Just, uh, made it all up. Hmpf. I know, I'm fast. All my teachers said so. Fast, but lazy. My lips are sealed. Word of honor. Besides, who'd I tell, ya know?"
Owen grabbed his shirt and looked him right in the eyes.
"Swear you won't say anything, and promise to live more honestly from now on," he said in a low, gruff voice.
"I- I swear," said Richie, timidly.
"Good," answered Owen, and he exited the room.
Owen left the station and strolled away.
(Cue Queen's "Who Wants to Live Forever" instrumental)
Tessa threw the towel over back of chair after finishing her shower, "So, you liberated this wine from Napoleon's own cellar, I suppose?"
She picked up her glass and sat down on the floor in front of the couch.
"No, this wine's only a little bit older than you are," Duncan replied as they clinked their glasses before he handed Tessa a small box. "Happy birthday."
"Oh," Tessa replied with delight before she quickly kissed Duncan, and opened the box, revealing a beautiful bracelet. "Oh, Mac! You're crazy."
"Just something I picked up during the French Revolution," Duncan stated before he placed the bracelet on Tessa's wrist.
"From now on, I only celebrate un-birthdays... like the Mad Hatter," Tessa replied teasingly.
"You're beautiful," Duncan told his lover.
"Ha. And a year older."
"And still beautiful."
"When we met, you were the older man."
Duncan laughed, before he brushed her hand with his own, "Much."
"I mean, now... now we look the same age," Tessa replied, "Soon..."
"Come here," Duncan told his lover.
He brought Tessa over to sit on his lap.
"Tessa, you're the most wonderful woman I've known in my entire life."
"All four hundred years?"
"I'm not four hundred. I won't be four hundred for... another four months."
"The problem is, even when you are four hundred, or four hundred and twenty, you'll still look thirty-five. It makes me sick," Tessa stated as Duncan was kissing her neck.
"Good skin runs in my family. There's nothing I can do about it."
"From now on, every year you'll look at me and see someone who looks older and older than you, while you stay the same. And it'll just be a matter of time…" Tessa stated as Duncan was kissing her neck again.
"No, it won't."
"...until you want someone else."
"No."
"Or maybe I will."
"You'll want someone younger?" Duncan inquired teasingly as he gently pushed Tessa onto the couch. "Not exactly hard to find."
"No. Maybe I'll want someone I can grow old with," Tessa answered.
"You know I've wanted the same thing - to grow old with you," Duncan replied.
"Mac, I know there have been others... other loves. After a century or two... do you learn how to cope?" Tessa asked.
"Cope? With the loss? Hm? No matter how many years go by, or how many times you say goodbye to those you care most about, when they leave, you…" Duncan answered.
"Die?"
"Yes. When they die, you're naked and alone. Why don't we stop thinking about what's going to happen when I'm four hundred and twenty or four hundred and forty or…" he paused as he kissed her again, "…and think about what's going to happen... later on tonight."
"And what's going to happen tonight?"
They continued to kiss.
When Owen finally arrived at the shop and walked past Duncan's T-Bird, he spotted another car in front of the shop. Then, he felt a buzz as the driver turned around, revealing Slan Quince. The big Immortal started his car.
"Ciao, baby!" Quince taunted as he drove away laughing, almost running down some people with his car.
Owen walked to the shop and saw Connor, when both of them felt another buzz.
"Shh," whispered Owen, as he creeped to the back door.
He heard the door unlock, then saw Duncan pear into view. Relief appeared on the middle MacLeod's face as he opened the door, allowing Owen and Connor inside.
"Hi," greeted Connor.
"We're back," Owen greeted next.
"Tessa, you've already met Connor MacLeod and Owen MacLeod," Duncan spoke to Tessa.
"I'm, uh, a friend of Duncan's from the old neighborhood," Connor explained.
"And as you know, I'm Duncan's kid from the woods," said Owen cheerfully.
Minutes later, Owen and Connor were beginning to help make some sandwiches.
"You're sure you wouldn't rather use a sword, Connor?" teased Tessa.
"I take it that, uh, what you saw last night was... new?" Connor asked while glancing at Duncan.
"New."
"Yes," answered Duncan, "As a matter of fact, it is quite new for Tessa."
"I can see that," deadpanned Owen.
"How long have you three known each other?" asked Tessa. "Are you related?"
"We're clansmen," Duncan explained. "When I was growing up, there was a legend in my clan about a strange man in my grandfather's time who was killed in battle and then miraculously revived."
"Everyone thought it was witchcraft," added Connor.
"Bunch of Holy rollers with no lives," cursed Owen.
"I thought it was an old wives' tale," Duncan continued. "Until one day…"
"I know," said Tessa. "Someone killed you, but you didn't die."
"I lived the majority of my life as a hermit in the wilderness, not knowing my parents," Owen spoke next. "Duncan found me and showed me how to be a man. What else should I call him, but Father?"
Tessa could not argue with that.
"And then I found them both, well, you know, the way someone found me," finished Connor.
"Connor taught us both everything we needed to know to survive as Immortals. The Rules. The tactics needed to win," added Duncan.
"As once someone taught me."
"Win what?!" insisted Tessa. "Why does this Slan person want Duncan? Please, don't say anything in front of the lady! Let me just go in the next room and crochet while you have cigars and brandy and talk about beheadings!"
"You omitted important details, Dad," complained Owen.
"I told Tessa some of it," defended Duncan. "I thought I was out of it. She didn't need to know all the Rules."
"You're not out of it anymore!" shouted Connor. "'There can be only one.' Remember that rule?"
"It's not just a rule," reminded Owen. "It's a prophecy."
"One what?" Tessa asked. "One of you? Only one Immortal left in the end? Is that it? And what does the winner get?"
"The Prize."
Connor nodded. He remembered centuries ago, when his own teacher, Tak-Ne, later known as Juan Sánchez Villa-Lobos Ramírez, explained the Prize to him. It was there that Connor learned his mission.
"The last one will have the power of all the Immortals who ever lived - enough power to rule this planet forever," he explained. "If someone like Slan is that last one, mankind will suffer an eternity of darkness from which it will never recover."
"That's why it's so important that an Immortal pure of heart wins the Game," finished Owen. "Connor already did the world a big favor by killing the Kurgan seven years ago."
"And you didn't think this was important enough to mention?" Tessa asked Duncan.
"It's nothing new," justified Duncan.
"It is for me."
"You can't stay out of the Game, Duncan.," scolded Connor. "You've tried before."
"Damn it, Connor! It had nothing to do with the Game, and you know that," insisted Duncan.
"It ALL comes back to the Game, Dad!" barked Owen. "YOU know it."
The three thought back to a Dakota Territory in 1872.
(Cue Queen's "Who Wants to Live Forever")
Connor had come across a massacred Lakota tribe that Duncan had joined. Duncan was sobbing as he was holding the body of his love in his arms.
"She knew the names of all the grasses... the wildflowers... the songs that told where her people came from, how they lived, what they believed in!" Duncan wailed.
"I'm sorry," said Connor, hugging him. "I'm so sorry."
They set up funeral pyre and let it burn.
"Do you think we ever lived like this?" asked Connor in the present. "Like a tribe? Together with a common language, a reason and a name for each living thing? Did we once belong somewhere - a time and a place, however briefly?"
("Who Wants to Live Forever" ends)
Sometime later, Duncan started building a cabin on what would be known as Shaman Island. Owen arrived and learned everything from Connor. The two went to speak to Duncan.
"Hey... I know you loved her, but you can't keep them from dying," Connor said. "They all do. Men kill men. We kill each other."
"I don't care who does the killing," replied Duncan. "I'm tired of it. I'm tired of the endless mindless fighting. I'm tired of death."
"You can't quit."
"I didn't ask you for permission, Connor."
"This is a Game that never stops," warned Owen. "It's only a matter of time before you return."
Connor glanced around at the area as Duncan drank from his flask.
"I know why you chose this place," he said. "It's Holy Ground."
"That's right," replied Duncan. "And I did ask permission of the old ones to build my cabin here."
"No Immortal can fight here... ever. You'll always be safe."
"Glad you approve. Connor, the battle between good and evil can do without me for a while."
Owen shook his head, seeing it as a waste of time.
"Maybe, but you can't stay out of it forever," said Connor.
"No, not forever," admitted Duncan. "But for a while."
"You'll have to leave at some point," Owen added. "They'll find you."
"Eventually."
Sometime later, Duncan pulled up to the shop in his T-Bird. Suddenly, he sensed a buzz. Surely Connor or Owen would have let him know they would be back. He grabbed his katana and approached the door. Seeing no witnesses, he twirled the sword into position before entering the store cautiously.
Hearing the sound of a grinder, Duncan held his sword in defense. He slowly approached the workshop, where he saw a figure using the grinder on something.
"Tessa?" Duncan called out over the grinder.
The figure stopped grinding and removed the mask, revealing it was Quince.
"Hi, hon," he taunted. "Wanna see what I've been workin' on?"
Quince removed a nearby sheet draped over the shape in front of him, revealing Tessa, sitting in a chair tied and gagged. She cried out through the gag.
"I think the face could use a little work, don't you?" asked Quince before he held the grinder near Tessa's face.
Duncan stepped forward ready to slice.
"Uh-uh! Ha, ha, ha. Not too close. Drop it. Drop it!"
Tessa continued making muffled noises through the gag as he held the grinder closer to her face.
Duncan began to lower his sword, but then he flipped the blade around and cut the power cord to grinder, rendering it useless.
"You came for me," he reminded Quince as the big Immortal grabbed his broadsword.
The two immortals engaged with left and right strikes that eventually went up and down. But as they grappled, Quince's superior strength gave him the upper hand and he struck Duncan aside with his elbow. He then placed his sword to Tessa's neck as she screamed in response. Duncan recovered and came toward them, with his katana raised once more.
"You know what some wags call me?" Quince asked his opponent. "Slan the Cat, because I like to play with my victims first."
Duncan tried to go after him, but Slan made him stop.
"Ah-ah-ah-ah."
Quince then extended a blade from each side of his sword's crossguard and laughed silently at the Highlander.
"Don't spoil the fun! Be a good boy, and I'll leave her alive... this time. I want you to think about it now. I bet you're thinking about it right now, aren't ya?"
Quince then lunged at Duncan and continued lunging and stabbing at him before he managed to kick Duncan down.
"Ta-ta for now, kids," called Quince as he managed to escape.
"You want to talk?" Duncan asked as he and Tessa were now at the office.
"If I wanted to talk, I suppose I'd be talking," Tessa stated as she was writing on some papers before she put the pen down and put away some items on a shelf. "I'm an artist. I'm supposed to have this tremendous imagination, but who could imagine this? Mac, I want to leave."
Duncan sat on the corner of the desk and sighed.
"I think it's for the best, Tessa," Duncan replied.
"Is that what you think?" Tessa asked.
"Is WHAT what I think?" Duncan countered.
"That I'm leaving you."
"Yes, that's what I think."
"You'd think in four hundred years, a person would learn how to listen."
"Well, that's what you said."
"I meant 'I' want to leave - not you, but this place. Here. The two of us. THAT'S what I meant. But maybe, that's not what you wanted to hear," Tessa insisted as she came around the end of the desk to him, wrapping her arms around him, "Let's go. We could be in Paris by tomorrow."
"You think he couldn't find us in Paris?" Duncan stressed, "Tessa, Slan won't give up. You'll have to leave."
"What?" Tessa asked.
"There's no way you could have known what this was going to be like," Duncan answered.
"Well, I have an idea now. So, what has this been for you - this past dozen years? Was it like a summer fling? R & R? 'Sorry darling, back to the wars, you know'," Tessa stated with sarcasm before she threw the paper she was holding down and shouted, "Damn you! Damn your Gathering! Damn your whole race!"
She turned around and Duncan walked over to her and hugged her, "I'm not your enemy, you know."
"No. An enemy could never hurt so much," Tessa cried silently.
Owen and Conner soon heard of Quince's ambush. To cheer Duncan up, they decided to spar with him.
(cue Queen's "Princes of the Universe")
They went to an abandoned warehouse, where they had a wide-open space and secrecy. Unbeknown to them, Richie Ryan was spying on them. The three bounced around, deflecting and evading strikes.
"A mere pinprick," taunted Connor.
"By my count, you look more like a pincushion!" Duncan fired back.
Seeing an opening, Owen roundhouse kicked them both. The three started laughing humorously at the move before Duncan lunged again, knocking Connor onto a dirt pile.
"You know Slan is mine," he insisted, stabbing into the dirt as Connor avoided it.
"You sure you can handle him?" asked Connor, holding out his hand. "Come on."
"No problem," said Duncan as he helped Connor up, only for Connor to yank him into the dirt.
"That brute entered MY town, he's MINE!" insisted Owen, causing another round of fighting.
They continued to throw blows at each other while treating it like a game. As they prodded at each other, Owen forced them into a triple blade lock.
"Slan is MINE," Connor hissed.
"Protecting Tessa is MY job," gruffed Duncan.
The three broke out of the lock and paused briefly, before laughing again and hugging each other.
"Good to see ya," said Connor happily.
("Princes of the Universe" ends)
Later, the three returned to the workshop, mopping themselves with small towels.
"Told you I'm nimble," boasted Owen.
"So, how do you feel, old man?" Connor asked Duncan.
"Fifty years younger than you do," replied Duncan, who then noticed the worried look on Tessa's face.
"What's wrong?"
"Slan called," she answered.
"What did he say?"
"He'll be on Soldier's Bridge tonight."
"That's not all, is it?" asked Owen.
Tessa looked at Duncan.
"When he's finished with you, he'll be back for me."
Minutes after, Owen smoked a cigarette at a window while Connor was watching Duncan sharpen his katana.
"You know, I've been thinking," Connor spoke. "Why are you smiling? 'Cause I've been thinking."
"Uh-huh."
"Heh-heh-heh. Well, anyway, as long as I can remember knowing you…"
"Oh, not again," groaned Duncan.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"Here we go again," mumbled Owen.
"You don't know what I'm going to say," Connor replied. "As long as I remember knowing you, you've had all the fun and most of the good women."
"Lately," was Duncan's response.
"Lately?"
"That's what I said."
"What are you guys talking about?" asked Owen, "I've had my own share, plus my current one is the best I've ever had."
"Well, I seem to remember that girl in London," answered Duncan. "The redhead."
Connor scoffed at the reminder.
"Healthy girl."
"Come on, that was almost a hundred and sixty years ago," complained Connor.
"That's what I said – lately."
"Bullshit," said Owen.
"It's not bullshit," Duncan cranked.
"You know what your problem is?" snapped Connor. "You live in the past."
An argument began as Tessa entered the room.
"I don't have a problem," insisted Duncan.
"Yes, you do," Connor responded.
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do!"
"No, I don't! Stop arguing with me!"
"I'm not arguing!"
"Yes, you are!"
"No! It's conversation!"
"It's conversation? Well, end of conversation!"
"Oh, taking the easy way out as always, huh?" scoffed Owen.
"Uh-huh."
"Yeah, the usual," drawled Connor. "Duncan?"
"What?" asked Duncan.
He turned around, only for Conor to sucker punch him into unconsciousness.
"End of conversation," finished Connor.
"Mac!" cried Tessa as she rushed over to tend to him.
"He was arguing. Don't worry. He's gonna be okay."
Connor grabbed his trench coat and sword before heading to the exit.
"You don't have to go either," insisted Tessa.
"We don't have a choice," replied the eldest MacLeod. "I hope to see you again."
He exited with Owen following.
"Hey, my town, my kill. Step aside," he demanded.
But Connor slugged him too, throwing him down. Connor exited the store, slipping on his riding gloves and got in his car.
"Damn. Sir Lancelot," cursed Richie as he hid in the trunk.
Owen had just exited as Connor drove away. Swearing to himself, Owen rushed to his motorcycle and chased after him, unaware that Duncan was going to follow too.
Duncan woke up with Tessa looking over him.
"Oh…" he groaned as he regained consciousness.
"Mac. Mac?" Tessa called out to him.
"Where are they?" asked Duncan.
"Where do you think?" Tessa asked in turn.
"Oh, ohh," Duncan groaned, standing up.
"I know you have to go," Tessa said before she asked, "Tell me, does anyone, anywhere, know why? Just why?"
Duncan was silent before grabbing his jacket and saying, "Tessa, I won't be back, even if I win."
"After twelve years, is it that simple for you?" Tessa asked in desperation.
"Of course not! But you didn't know…" Duncan started to say.
"I do now!" Tessa exclaimed.
"It will happen again!" Duncan stressed.
"I don't care!" Tessa argued.
"Tessa. I love you," Duncan told his lover before he left the workshop.
At Soldier's Bridge, Slan Quince stood waiting for Duncan MacLeod. Connor pulled up and exited, advancing toward the large Immortal. Richie quietly exited the trunk and got a good view of the confrontation. Connor, clad in his iconic beige trench coat and white sneakers, advanced toward Quince with his katana drawn. Richie slipped into the shadows to watch.
"Don't look so disappointed, Slan," Connor teased. "When was the last time you had such an enthusiastic opponent?"
"Maybe you're right. This could be fun," agreed Quince, putting on his protective mask.
Connor twirled his sword, laughing at Quince's move.
"Still worried about that pretty face of yours?"
"Just protecting my most valuable asset," replied Quince, slipping his mask in place and drawing his broadsword.
The rivals started to fight. Quince's heavy strikes caused a problem for Connor. He had not fought anyone this big since the Kurgan. He evaded the heavier strikes while deflecting the lighter ones. Quince managed to trip Connor, but he was able to pull him forward, so he could regain his footing.
"Oh man, these guys should sell tickets," whispered Richie as he saw Quince punch Connor twice in the face.
Elsewhere, Owen was racing through the streets of Seacouver, hoping to reach Soldier's Bridge in time. Duncan followed closely behind in his T-Bird. But Owen was taking routes that were not suited for cars, giving himself a lead.
"Hmph," he said to himself. "And Dad calls ME stubborn?"
Back at the bridge, Connor was able to find an opening and cut Quince right in the face. The large Immortal screamed in agony and pulled off his mask. The fight continued with Connor finding another opening and stabbing Quince in the side. Connor raised his katana to deliver the finishing blow, but Quince shot him with a barb from the handle of his sword. In pain, Connor retreated and fell over the edge of bridge, into the water below.
"Bye-bye," laughed Quince.
Then, he heard the sound of a motorcycle, as Owen raced to a stop. Throwing off his helmet and grabbing his own katana, Owen leaped over the fence to face his target.
"Quince, this ends now!" he demanded.
He lunged forward and fought Quince blade to blade. Quince tried to trap Owen against the edge, but Owen kicked his way free. His addition of physical strikes kept Quince off balance, but the large Immortal was able to disarm Owen of his katana. However, the killing blows were not fast enough to strike Owen.
"Your cutting's slow, Quince, Come on!" taunted Owen.
Quince was soon able to headlock Owen with his sword, but Owen used his hidden knife to stab him in his hand, freeing himself. Retrieving his sword, Owen reengaged Quince before knocking him down. Recovering, Quince charged at Owen, but Owen dodged and sliced him across the abdomen, bringing the large Immortal to his knees.
"Bullseye," said Owen to himself, as he turned and raised his katana high above him.
"Finish it, Highlander," demanded Quince.
"There can be only one," reminded Owen.
Swinging downward with all of his might, Owen took Quince's head. Moments after the body fell, Owen was hit with Quince's Quickening. Lighting flashed, windows shattered, bulbs exploded as Owen unleashed a charging yell. When the surge subsided, Owen fell to his knees. Then he looked up and saw Richie watching.
"Whoa. Chill, man. Just... just pretend I'm not here," said the boy.
Grabbing his sword, Owen jumped off the bridge and into the river. As for Duncan, he had seen the whole fight but decided to drive on when it ended.
As the sun rose over the city, Owen helped Connor out of the water and set him down on the shore. Sadly, Connor's white braid katana had been lost in the water. Owen reached for the barb in Connor's chest.
"Go for it. That's it," encouraged Connor, before Owen yanked the projectile free. "Aaah, oh, God!"
"I know this won't come as a surprise," Owen teased, "But you'll live."
"I should have known it - you're never on time. Like your father. Slan?"
"His Quickening's mine."
"I guess your father isn't the only one who had all the fun and most of the good women," laughed Connor.
"Uncle, I don't think Dad's going back to Tessa," Owen said sadly. "He doesn't want to put her through this again."
"I understand, but she won't."
Owen helped Connor up to his feet, when the elder Highlander saw Richie trying to hide in the grass by the bridge.
"What about the boy?" Connor asked. "He'll need watching."
"I know," agreed Owen, picking up his sword. "I'll tell Dad."
Back at the loft apartment, Tessa was sitting in the living room, moping. Then, she heard a knock at the door.
"Mac?" she asked, running down to the workshop. "Duncan, is that you?"
She opened the door to the back alley, revealing Owen and Connor.
"Owen, Connor, are you alright?"
"Yeah," answered the elder. "I'm okay. Don't worry."
He sat down on a crate, with Owen standing by him.
"Where is Mac?" asked Tessa.
"He's alive, and Slan Quince won't be calling you anymore," Owen answered. "I made sure of it."
"Owen, where did Mac go?"
"He didn't stay long enough to tell us, but we can guess."
"Where?"
"Do you really want to know?" asked Connor.
Tessa silently nodded her answer.
Hours later, the MacLeods brought Tessa to Duncan's river cabin on Shaman Island. Duncan was sitting outside the cabin, meditating. Owen and Connor pulled their canoe to the shore of the lake and walked toward the cabin. Tessa was already there, watching Duncan. Soon, Duncan opened his eyes and saw her.
"I tried to call you, but..." Tessa began, before running to Duncan, and kissing him. "I love you. I love you."
"That kid'll need some watching, Dad," said Owen.
"I will," Duncan replied. "It hasn't ended. You know that. It won't end until…"
"We don't know when it's going to end," agreed Connor. "We never do. But while we're here... living in this time, in this place... some of us... the lucky few... will still have all the fun. And?"
"All the good women," finished all three MacLeods together.
"Heh-heh-heh," laughed Connor. "Listen, I gotta go. The Old Ones are whispering that, uh, you want to be alone."
"You're welcome to stay," offered Duncan.
Owen shook his head, smiling.
"I left my girl alone in the penthouse, and she's bound to have my head," he said. "But you'll both see me soon. Real soon."
"Goodbye, Tessa," said Connor.
"Will I...?" Tessa began.
"I hope so. Duncan…"
"Connor," replied the middle MacLeod.
With that, Owen and Connor walked down the hill and back to the canoe.
"You didn't say goodbye?" Tessa asked Duncan.
"Never do," Duncan replied, as he led Tessa inside his cabin.
Upon returning to the dam, Owen led Connor to his penthouse. There, Lynn was waiting in the living room.
"Owen!" she cried. "Where have you been? I've been worried sick!"
"I was protecting my family," said Owen, stepping aside to reveal Connor. "Lynn, this is Connor MacLeod, my favorite uncle."
"I assume you know about us?" Connor asked.
Lynn nodded, surprised by Connor's calm, chill mood.
"I like her already."
Lynn blushed with embarrassment and Owen gave her cheek a peck.
"Alright, why were you so persistent in going after Quince?" he asked Connor.
"I think he had something to do with Rachel," replied Connor.
"The adopted girl?" asked Lynn.
"You know about her?"
"I told her everything," said Owen. "All of our lives' stories. She also knows about the explosion back at your shop."
"An Immortal was responsible," Connor explained. "I could feel a buzz. For the past two years, I've been searching for the one responsible, and I had a feeling Slan either had a part in it or was responsible. That's why I'll be checking his place out for any clues."
"Good luck," said Owen. "You're gonna need it."
"As will you on your little Paris trip."
Connor winked at Lynn and left the penthouse.
"You didn't say goodbye," Lynn pointed out to Owen. "He might die out there."
"Don't worry," soothed Owen. "It'll take much more to take down that old dog. Now, I believe we have a trip to plan out?"
The two strolled to the living room to plan their trip. During that time, they would go out of town to have more joyrides. While Slan Quince had been taken care of, the problems in Seacouver would continue, and Owen would be back to help. But that's another story.
As for Tori, it had been two months since she had made her move to Seacouver. Everything was going pretty well so far. She had a new squad, and a new home. She had adapted easily to both. She didn't take a lot of days off at present, but Tori had granted herself one now.
She made her way into a little brown theater, opting to see a new action film. She wasn't sure why she had chosen this, given her current profession and all. Maybe it provided a form of escape; action films usually got things wrong.
Just as the opening credits appeared, a young man with curly red hair sat down. He did not look excited for the picture at all. His breaths were slow. His stare was tense. It seemed as though a matter was troubling him.
"Everything okay?" she said in a whisper.
He eyed her with caution.
"Sorry," she smiled. "Didn't mean to be nosy."
"No, no," he said. "It's just...well…"
The young man twitched. He looked a bit pale. There was clearly something that he wanted to share.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you... and I told him I wouldn't say anything."
Tori shrugged a bit, "I can keep a secret."
And besides that, there really wasn't much that she wouldn't believe, especially considering the things she'd seen.
He hesitated, then managed to speak, "I saw some men with swords. One looked like Sir Lancelot. I even witnessed one of them take the head off this guy after he defeated Sir Lancelot. I mean, the guy got hit by lightning, and the bolts struck the bridge and the surrounding area. It was crazy. Then the guy jumped off the bridge after I said to pretend, I'm not here. I don't know if he was dead, or not."
He remembered the young man getting struck by the bolts as his brown hair flew in the wind. Tori took a moment to absorb all that. Had she come across it in her various studies? Guys with swords? Lightning bolts? Some sort of transfer of energy? No, she noted, squinting a tad. She'd never researched anything like this.
"It sounds like something in The Twilight Zone," the guy acknowledged.
"It certainly does," Tori declared, "But I don't believe that you're making it up."
He looked relieved, and kind of surprised.
"I'm not from a normal family."
Tori had to get the IUA involved.
"What do you mean?" he asked quietly.
"Can you let me know where you saw all this?"
She rose from the seat, clutching her phone.
He looked a little baffled.
"Why?" he asked.
"Just let me know."
"Wilshire Peak."
Tori started walking toward the theater door. She hit the speed-dial, then lifted the phone. "Darren, it's Tori. I need a C unit out at Wilshire Peak. I got a report of activity."
"Roger that, Tor," Darren replied. "What's going on?"
"I'm not too sure. Just send Containment. I'm heading out now so I can meet them there."
"No way, T. You're resting today. Stay where you are. We'll handle this."
Tori was tempted to ignore that request.
"Tori," he said, adamantly, clearly picking up on her urge to step in. "You work too hard. Stay where you are. I'll let you know as soon as we learn anything."
"All right," she uttered. "I'll sit tight here. Tell all the guys to be careful out there." She ended the call, then retook her seat.
The redheaded boy still appeared confused.
"I asked authorities to take a look at the place."
He flinched a bit. "You told me that you could keep a secret, though."
"I can," she said, "But not the kind of secret that involves chopped heads. Come on, you know we had to tell someone."
He made a soft sigh, then looked at his lap.
"It's going to be okay. Just trust me on this."
She licked her lips, thankful that he might have helped the agency out.
"I guess we should kind of introduce ourselves."
"All right," he paused, composing himself. "Ladies first."
"What a gentleman," she forced a small smile. "I'm Victoria. People call me Tori."
"I'm Richard Ryan. People call me Richie."
"Nice to meet you, Richie."
Later, Tori walked out with Richie at her side. Darren had called. Nothing on-site.
"Look," Richie uttered, "I'm wondering something. You said that your last name is Gordon, right?"
"Yes…" Tori sensed where this was going.
"You're a smart girl… Not easily fazed…"
She flashed a half grin. "What makes you say that?"
Richie made a smirk, "Come on now, Tor. All through the film, you pointed all these little inaccuracies out. And right before that, you totally believed what I said to you."
He stared a second, "You've got to be related to the famous Flash."
Tori was amused by his deductive skills, and maybe just a little impressed as well.
"Flash is my uncle," she uttered quietly.
Richie wore a look of fascination now.
"But I'm not living with him anymore," Tori grew intrigued. "What about you? Your family's here?"
"Couldn't say really," he studied the ground. "Spent my whole life in the foster system."
"Oooh…" she murmured. "Sorry about that."
She saw a parallel.
"It's not quite the same, but when I was four…"
Out of nowhere, with very little sound, a dark-garbed man with a ponytail appeared.
Tori's eyes widened and she took a step back.
"It's one of the men with the swords!" Richie whispered. "The dad of the one who was hit by the lightning bolts."
The man shifted all of his focus to Richie.
"I've come to make you an offer," he said, "But I believe that we should speak privately."
Richie hesitated.
"Okay." He nodded. He shifted to Tori. "I'll see you later, Tor…at least, I think."
"Wait," she said. "Are you sure about this?"
She wouldn't let him leave if it was dangerous. She could call the cops or the IUA up.
"I'm fine," he offered. "I'll be all right."
The man gave Tori an assuring nod and Richie walked off with the mysterious guy.
Tori thought back to everything they'd discussed. Richie revealed he was a petty thief, a thief who'd be turning 18 next month. She didn't approve of that hobby of his, but Tori sensed something positive in him. Maybe the sword man could bring that out. Maybe Richie wouldn't choose to steal anymore. After all, Tori believed that anybody could change. Well, almost anybody, at least. She doubted Ming the Merciless could never improve. She certainly hoped that Richie could, however.
Suddenly, she looked up to see a man with light brown hair in the area. Tori gazed at the guy for a moment before she nodded at him. He nodded back in response. She brushed her hair aside and walked away from the theater.
Then she got a text on her mobile phone: "Tor, it's Mom. I'm transferring there."
Connor eyed the girl as she gawked at her phone. The aura he sensed was undeniable: this young woman was a pre-Immortal, a human who'd become Immortal after first death. He walked to the loft of the antique store. Duncan was talking with Tessa there.
"Connor," Duncan addressed his clansmen.
"I thought that you left," Tessa declared.
"I was going to," Connor explained, "But I sensed another pre-Immortal down by the theater."
Duncan looked stunned and asked, "The boy?"
"The girl as well."
Tessa glanced between them. "A pre-Immortal?"
"Not Immortal yet," Duncan revealed. "They remain mortal until their first death. Just like Connor. Just like myself."
She looked fascinated. "Do you think we'll see the young woman again?"
"You two might," Connor replied, "And when you do see her, you'll feel the Buzz, albeit a different form than usual. Speaking of which, what about the boy?"
"I made him an offer," Duncan answered. "He pays the damage off by working with us."
He folded his arms, "The kid's name is Richie."
He had to pause, "And within him I sense…much potential."
(Cue Princes of the Universe)
Co-Starring
Wendell Wright as Sergeant Thomas Powell
(Princes of the Universe ends)
Author's Note: Where do I begin with this? To start with, the events with Owen in the prologue still exists in Earth N1 canon, but I didn't start with that chapter, I started with "The Gathering" as I felt that it would have best introduce Tori Gordon and Tori eventually meets Richie after the events of "The Gathering".
Thanks to co – writer Roland Cain for the help and support so far, even telling about facts I never knew before: including Kehli O' Byrne and Christopher Lambert co – starring in the movie Knight Moves and this was a year before Kehli had her guest role in the series.
I dedicate this chapter to Charles Richard Moll, who played Slan Quince in "The Gathering". He played an amazing villain which brought a great start to Highlander: the Series. Moll was also known for playing the bailiff Bull Shannon on Night Court, as well as voicing Two – Face/Harvey Dent in Batman: the Animated Series, and in the DCAU. He had passed away on 26 October 2023 and he had spent the rest of his days in peace after his retirement, which is good. He was 80 years old, which was a long life. He will be missed.
The stupid document thing was giving me a hard time when it comes to the horizontal lines, and it took me a heck of a time to get that but I finally figured it out and hopefully there won't be any issues with that in the future.