Intro: Ladies and gentlemen, this is my first fanfic. And I know you’ve read those very words before. I have no idea why I decided to write this, except it stemmed from a dinner conversation between me and my good friend Victor Wisniski who helped me with some of the finer points of swordplay in this story. We thought it’d be cool to do a crossover fanfic, but which one? How about two warriors from opposite schools of war. Nah, better yet deal with immortality as 1) spiritual (Highlander’s quickening) and 2) technology-based (GITS’ cybernetics). As always, thanks to Masamune Shirow for creating such a fine universe to imagine in, and Gregory Widen for creating the character Connor Macleod. Assumptions: The true Shirowphile will recognize that the date puts this story in the GITS timeline between chapters 6 (the one with the mad Tomlis androids) and 7 (the Soviet gold chapter), thus it is before Kusanagi merges with the Puppeteer. Weaponry is standard to GITS universe. As for Highlander, one can notice that the flashback to WWII occurs immediately before a similar sequence seen in the Director’s Cut of Highlander. Dedication: To all those who suffered through the second Highlander movie hoping that Macleod in the future would be cool. I hope that this tale satisfies that hope. ** - replaces italics [] - soundtrack suggestions *** ETERNAL GHOST **** by Thomas Price (AnimeLink) (tprice@newssun.med.miami.edu, http://members.aol.com/tprice1995/anime.html) with assistance from Victor Wisniski (darkoni or danguard@aol.com) 05 There Can Be Only One [suggested soundtrack: "Sweet Feather," Yoko Kanno (from Macross Plus Soundtrack II)] Southern felt it, the sensation not unlike vertigo that was the Quickening. He felt it and smiled as he turned around and leaned against the computer terminal he was working on, sword an arm’s length away on the panel, crossed his arms on his chest and met Connor’s stare with his own. "Hello Highlander." "Hello Southern." Southern noticed the blade in Connor’s hand, but his expression gave no clue as to if he was concerned or not. "So you’ve come to help me then, have you?" Connor walked towards Southern, but stopped at a certain point walking in an arc that kept him an equal distance from the man. "Help you? Help you with your plans of ruling the world? Help you kill millions of people just to satisfy your own ego?" Southern chuckled. "Really Macleod. I’d thought you’ve done some growing up since our last chat. I thought you’d realize that what I do benefits us both." "How does disabling the global network help us both? The Quickening will return, and there will be hundreds of unchallenged immortals killing each other, and eventually they will come looking for you and me." "Disable the net?" Again he chuckled. "Is that the limit of your vision? Disabling it is only part of the equation, my friend. Disabling it for a brief nanosecond will allow me to access every system in the net for one brief moment as they all reboot their power sources. And then..." "And then?" Macleod asked. Southern chuckled as he motioned towards the main terminal and rested a finger on a silver interface cable. A cable which he traced upwards from the terminal with his finger to the point at which it inserted in the base of his skull. "Marvelous work some of these cyberdoctors can do, isn’t it? Nanotech probes kept the wound open long enough for the interface to set, and then the leads set rather quickly." Connor eyed him suspiciously. This was something he had not anticipated...it meant that the motive was not as clear as he thought. "What are you planning to do?" Southern chuckled. "My good fellow, you cannot begin to fathom what I am about to do. Have you even to begun to understand why the Quickening has been dampened these last decades? Why we have been but blind mice scurrying about, bumping into each other but not knowing who we were?" "The hum that the net creates..." "Wrong!" Southern leaned closer to Macleod, who took a cautious stance, sword still at his side but his other arm crossed over his waist so that both hands rested on the hilt. "Highlander, the Quickening itself has merged with the cyberspace of the net! The souls of mortal men is what had sustained the Quickening for eons, and now that those souls...those ghosts...reside on the net, the Quickening has followed them there and become trapped, trapped within countless miles of fiberop and circuits." "So you intend to free it? Is that it?" "No. I intend to enslave it." For a brief moment, Connor’s face flashed with horror. For a brief moment. The mask of rage then began to form on his visage. "Ah, so you do understand. And for all this time I had taken you for an ill-mannered, uneducated Kilt. But you do see now, don’t you? When the power goes out and all the nodes out there send a signal for a power reboot, the receipt signal they get will be my ghost transmitted in every direction possible. I will merge with the net, and thus the Quickening itself. I will know where all the immortals are at once, and I will control them. I will make them fight each other until they are all dead. All but one." "But one?" "You, Macleod. You will be my avatar. My earthly king." Macleod laughed. "Why would I do such a..." "You will accept, or you will die." [soundtrack suggestion (clip): "A Sai En," Yoko Kanno (from Macross Plus Soundtrack II)] With that, Southern clicked a few keystrokes and a monitor began to display a countdown timer. Ten minutes sped downwards towards enslavement of the world at the hands of a madman. A voice of a friend long gone but hardly forgotten seemed to ring in Macleod’s ears. *What are you waiting for, Highlander? Do you want to live forever?* And the battle began. ***** Kusanagi had heard the entire conversation over the communicator. While some of it was beyond her reasoning, much of it she understood. *Fuchikoma, analyze the program,* she telepathically commanded her steed. *Analyzed,* it replied. *99.7% probability that current target SOUTHERN program MULTINODAL WORM will perform as claimed. Set with two sequences, primary is termination of power supply via cascade of power facilities tied into global information network, secondary is transmission of power reboot confirmation with trojan SOUTHERN GHOST program.* *How do we stop the program?* *Terminate primary signal at source before transmission.* *In other words,* Kusanagi thought, *blow up the computer.* ***** [suggested soundtrack: "Prince Charming," Metallica] The blades met with a resounding clash, the sparks from the collision illuminating the faces of the combatants like a strobe. They locked eyes with each other for a brief second, then swung around and clashed again. The two opponents were well-matched, and it was not clear who would be the victor. Macleod chose his style well, countering Southern’s fencer’s assault with feints and turns more suited to a claymore than a katana, but somehow making the moves work with the smaller blade. The duel raged as Southern backed Connor into a corner by a scaffolding. Connor swung himself onto the scaffolding with one hand, then ran across the catwalk jumping over a gap and landing on a platform above his opponent. Sword extended, Connor jumped down but missed as his opponent ducked the swing and pivoted low to the ground, forcing Connor to back-flip to avoid getting slashed...the maneuver causing Connor to hit his back against a protruding steam valve and loose his grip on his blade. Southern then swept Connor from his feet with a roundhouse kick and approached the dazed highlander with blade outstretched. Southern lifted the blade up and sneered with his assumed victory. "There can be only one." Just then, glass shattered from the skylight and a large shape seemed to descend along a filament of wire as thin as a spider’s gossamer strand. The Fuchikoma revealed itself by the light of its own main cannon which fired a shell at Southern’s feet, knocking him into the air and away from Connor, who took only minimal damage from the shot. "Get up, Connor!" Kusanagi’s voice broadcast from the Fuchikoma’s public address grille, carrying a sense of urgency to which Connor responded quickly by jumping to his feet and bringing his sword to bear just as a recovered Southern brought his down towards Connor’s neck. The swords clashed and sparks flew as the two adversaries stared each other in the face. The Highlander smiled as he broke the lock and jumped back a few paces, standing next to the descended Fuchikoma. He looked at the large spiderlike machine and chuckled. "What kept you?" Kusanagi fumed silently in her cockpit. She didn’t want to go into the fact that a power plant’s magnetic field played havoc with her sensors, and all the shielding in this place prevented her from tracking Connor’s communicator. "Don’t get me started." "Never mind, Major," he said as he blocked another attack by Southern and replied with a parry of his own, "disable that countdown!" Kusanagi slid the Fuchikoma over to the central terminal and ejected, severing the cybernetic links with her mecha and setting it to full independent mode. The Fuchikoma responded by panicking and then hiding behind a large metal console, as is the usual Fuchikoma response to a bizarre situation such as two men dueling with each other while computer panels blow out under power surges. Kusanagi plugged into the central terminal and quickly dove to the problem at hand. She knew she’d have to work fast... "You’re better than I thought, Highlander," Southern quipped. He brought his sword around as he spun on his heel, the blade extended fully in line with his arm. Connor met the blade with his own, crossing the swords in a dueler’s salute. Southern smiled for a moment as his unused hand darted under his coat for a moment, a moment in which a gunshot rang out as Connor felt a bullet slam into his chest. Southern withdrew his hand from his coat, holding a smoking Mauser pistol. [suggested soundtrack: "Run, Shoot and Jump," Eric Serra (Goldeneye Soundtrack)] "Sorry I can’t stay and continue this more sporting-like, but I have a world to conquer." Southern ran over to the console Kusanagi was feverishly working at and fired off a few rounds at her. She replied by firing off a burst from her rifle, but he slid down on his side like a base-runner and slid along the ground under her line of fire, grabbing the interface cable that had fallen from his ‘jack when he had begun the combat with Macleod. Firing a few more shots from the Mauser, he ran for cover behind the terminal and slid the cable back into his ‘jack. Kusanagi exchanged fire with Southern as the countdown ticked down to its last seconds and a warning light began to flash on the console. "Connor! He’s downloading!" The stunned Macleod shook his head and grabbed his sword, running towards Southern who was busy firing at the major. Southern turned his attention at the last moment towards the oncoming Highlander. "There can be only one." [suggested soundtrack: "Trip Like I Do," The Crystal Method (f.f. past intro)] Southern barely managed to block Macleod’s first strike with the Mauser’s metal barrel. He dove for his dropped sword as Macleod brought the sword down on the interface cable, severing it. Southern dropped the gun and rolled as he retrieved his blade to bring it up just as another Macleod strike made contact. Arching his back, he flipped back onto his feet and the blades met again, the loud noise of contact echoing off of the walls of the control room. Southern pulled the remnants of the interface cable from his jack and leveled his sword in salute. "Let’s finish this once and for all, Highlander." Macleod similarly saluted and simply nodded. There are some who would say that, throughout history, there are memorable battles. Hannibal’s push into Italy. The British fleet sinking the Spanish Armada. The Battle of Britain. Would this one be looked at any differently just because only two men faced each other? As the swords clashed and the delicate dance of a duel progressed, Kusanagi watched in a sense of awe at the combat of two masters of the art. Connor’s style, with the broad sweeping motions of the East mixed with the snaps of a more Scottish style against Southern’s fencing arcs mixed with the downward slice of a Germanic broadsword style. Every moving blade would meet the other, and though the two moved constantly they moved in concert keeping a constant distance between them. Connor began to rely more on more sweeping strokes of the blade with body movement to evade Southern’s lunges, but soon a victor began to emerge. Southern, his attention divided in too many places, his emotions out of control thanks to his desires, began to tire and switched to putting more power and less finesse in his strikes. Macleod took advantage of this and began to twist his body so that each attack was evaded and cost Southern more and more of his balance. Strikes that would have killed a mortal man at once became a liability to the attacker, and it was not much longer until Southern had lost total control of his motions. Then Macleod took a quick offensive, and with a lighting thrust impaled Southern’s shoulder, forcing the man to drop his arm. A second strike drew the blade from his hand and the man who would have ruled the world was forced into the corner. Southern sneered at Macleod. "Your love of the mortals will be your undoing, you know." Macleod nodded solemnly at his opponent. "It already has been." Southern watched stoically, without emotion, as Macleod thrust the blade into his chest, and he fell kneeling to the ground. The Highlander then brought up the blade and prepared for the coup de grace, but this time there would be no expletive or witty retort, but a simple silence, an honor shared between combatants, a shared feeling of being out of place with this time, this future. Southern closed his eyes and prepared to meet oblivion. And Macleod brought his blade down. A strange feeling of static and ozone seemed to fill the room as Southern’s body fell to the ground. A pulse of energy was released as the computer terminal exploded and bright blue bolts of electricity seemed to fire at Macleod. The Highlander screamed in pain as the energy poured into him. Mists formed from thin air and enveloped the body of the slain immortal and the victor alike, the vapors charged with energy which seemed to coat Macleod with lethal force. Steam valves opened themselves and then shot from their bolts with explosive force, and computer panels and gauges exploded in showers of sparks. Kusanagi ran to her Fuchikoma and got in quickly as the explosions got more and more violent and barely made it out as the fusion core itself blew. The explosion sent the Fuchikoma flying into the trees a hundred meters away. It took twenty minutes for the fires to die down. Police and fire department officials alike were glad that the primary core hadn’t blown, that the safety shutdown had cut in one millisecond before the auxiliary core went critical. News officials calmed the public down over the evening news, telling families across Japan that Nerima had been a cold fusion facility and that there was no radiation to worry about, that the explosions were not nuclear but just the toroidal power accelerators themselves blowing their transformers. The power company reported that the explosion had been a terrorist attack, and the resultant electromagnetic pulse from the transformer explosion had caused the millisecond outage all global information net customers had experienced. Kusanagi didn’t remember much of what happened after the explosion since the pulse had also affected her memory of the event, but she could remember a shadowy figure walking out of the fire. She could swear, though it might just be a glitch of her damaged memory, that the figure bowed to her before walking off into the shadows. And Kusanagi could say, with reasonably certainty, that she had seen the best in one who had been playing the game far, far longer than she. THE END END PART 05, Rev.1b 12/19/98 END ETERNAL GHOST As always, C&C is welcome, unavoidable, and sometimes loathed too! Get me at tprice@newssun.med.miami.edu. Comment: Yes, that voice he hears is Ramirez's.