"Utopia!" Tymwalker shouts, his trenchcoat flailing a bit. His voice 
is lost amid the vastness of the purple sky. For some odd reason, there is 
no echo. "Yes... Utopia. That is what this land shall be called. It will be 
where I retire to, and where those who will come after me will go. It will 
be a land of peace and prosperity, just like the Earth isn't." He puts on a 
fedora that matches his trenchcoat and poses. "And then an interdimensional 
conqueror will stop by and screw things up." Tym stops and thinks. "Ah, but 
that's much later down the inter-timestream. What's important now, is 
that... um..." He looks over at the pedestal with the rather large snowglobe 
rested upon it. "Aha! I've got to oversee my pet project, the Multiverse.. 
Right after I get some lunch..." He disappears into an arc of light and 
time.

SEATTLE, 1997

	In one of the darker corners of Seattle, especially at night, lies a 
small tavern called "Joe's". It's rather quiet, possibly because people are 
sleeping at this hour. Maybe they've got something useful to do. Or maybe 
they rather enjoy keeping their heads attached to their bodies.
	Inside, the ceiling fans swish around the smoke that is commonly 
associated with taverns, though very few people remain now. Sitting in one 
particular booth to the right is the owner of the bar, Joe Dawson, and his 
unusual friend, Duncan MacLeod. Duncan is an immortal. He can't be killed 
unless you sever his head. He is but one immortal on Earth, each battling 
the others, and taking the head and power of the loser. In the end, they 
say, there can be only one immortal remaining. Duncan, however, would rather 
not think that far into the future just now.
	He takes a sip of his drink. "So, any news on Richie?" Duncan's 
apprentice and fellow immortal, Richie Ryan, was apparently 'killed' while 
in Paris, France. In order to keep suspicion away from him, he moved on, 
away from Duncan.
	"You realize," Joe replies, "that information is classified. I could 
get in big trouble for telling you..."
	"So how's he doing?" Duncan says casually.
	Dawson shakes his head. "Last I heard, he was out of France heading 
north. You know you've got to let him go. He's a tough kid. He'll make it."
	"I know. I trained him. But he's still young and inexperienced." 
Duncan's Scottish accent flows rather nicely. "There're immortals around 
every corner that could take his head at anytime."
	"The experience on his own will do him good. He can't be in your 
shadow forever, MacLeod." Joe runs his fingers under his chin and scratches 
a little.
	"True," Duncan agrees, thinking back on some of the wild things he 
did in his day. His flashback is interrupted by a bright bluish white flash, 
similar to that which an x-ray machine would produce doing a swan dive into 
a fountain while still plugged in. His vision starts returning to normal, 
and he grips onto the table. "Joe... I just had the weirdest sensation..."
	"You know MacLeod, immortals don't have a monopoly on strange 
occurrences." 
	"You saw it too?" Duncan tries to focus the two Joes into one.
	"Yeah... Probably lightning or something." Dawson reaches to take a 
sip of his drink, which is currently in three places.
	"It wasn't just lightning... or even a Quickening... It's 
something..." Duncan stands up slowly.
	As if on cue, the door to the tavern opens slowly. A beautiful 
blonde woman stands in the doorway. She looks rather overdressed for this 
kind of establishment. Her black high heel shoes are connected to silky 
legs, that crawl up into a tight black miniskirt, which covers rather nicely 
curved hips. Connected to the hips is a flat tummy, covered with a pink and 
white blouse, which also conceals rather impressive breasts. Attached to her 
torso are two slender arms, with delicate fingers, and atop lies a head. Not 
just a head, mind you, but one with a face of pure beauty. Full lips, a 
perky nose, wide eyes, and the aforementioned long, blonde, straight hair.
	Duncan's eyes widen. If they were to get any wider, his eyes would 
probably fly out of his head and roll across the floor. Fortunately, this 
doesn't happen.
	"Duncan?" She asks. "You haven't changed a bit..."
	For the barest of an instant, Duncan's brain completely erases 
Dawson from existence. She knows his name. That's a good thing, he thinks. 
She looks familiar...

LONDON, 1720

	Duncan, sporting short hair, walks down one of the many streets of 
London. A heavy coat conceals his katana, naturally, and he begins to turn 
around the corner of a building into an alley. He feels the ever-familiar 
buzz an immortal feels when they encounter another of their kind. Yards 
before him, a man struggles with a woman. Her eyes meet Duncan's, and the 
man spins around, leaving the woman on the ground, covered in dirt, grit and 
whatever that brown substance is that back alleys tend to produce in all 
eras of time.
	"Leave the woman out of this." Duncan says boldly. Within two 
seconds, he produces his sword from his coat. "I am Duncan MacLeod of the 
Clan MacLeod."
	The other man reveals an evilish grin. His slick, greasy hair stands 
out from his unshaven face. "I am Malcolm Korn. I have no clan. I simply 
destroy."
	The woman stands up and steps out of the way, watching this new man 
who's come to defend her. She steps in some rather unpleasant green stuff.
	"Then your destroying days will end here, Korn." Duncan's Scottish 
accent becomes very known.
	Korn's various missing teeth become apparent as he grins again, a 
bit wider this time. "I didn't want a fight, MacLeod. I was trying to have a 
little fun."
	"Attacking an innocent woman doesn't rank with 'fun' in my book." He 
spins his katana a bit. "So that leaves you a choice."
	"A choice?" Korn asks.
	Duncan retains his stance. "Either fight like an immortal, or get 
out of my sigh,." he says, just loud enough for Korn to hear.
	Korn's left side of his face twitches. "This time, MacLeod, this 
time I'll let you win. But next time we meet, I will be better prepared."
	"Looking forward to it." Duncan responds. Korn takes off into the 
streets, in the opposite direction of Duncan.
	"Thank you..." A soft voice mutters.
	Duncan grins, twirling his katana, and returning it to the hidden 
folds of his coat. "Only being a gentleman." He walks over to her and picks 
something out of her hair. "What's your name?"
	She smiles. "Victoria. And... I could have handled him, but I still 
appreciate the kind gesture."
	Duncan retains a dopey grin. "Er, maybe we should get you cleaned 
up, then we can talk."
	Victoria smiles. "Yes... I'd like that." They walk out of the alley 
together.

SEATTLE, 1997

	"Victoria? How can... you be here? I met you over 270 years ago. And 
I thought you were dead." MacLeod tries to figure the situation out.
	She smiles. "You're good with dates, Duncan. And it's just Vicki 
now. Vicki Sharp. And we'll have plenty of time to talk about the old days. 
Right now, there's something else. Something that made me come seek you 
out."
	"What's wrong?" Duncan asks.
	"Other than the fact," Dawson returns to reality, according to 
Duncan's mind, "that she's been alive for at least 270 years, and she's not 
even an immortal. At least not by your standards."
	Duncan looks at Vicki.
	Vicki lowers her head. She pulls a chair over and sits down at a 
table. "Now, on to what I came here for..."
	Joe, seated in the booth that he was in, moves over to the table 
with Vicki. Duncan seats himself as well, flipping the chair around and 
sitting backwards.
	"Over the past week, I've been having strange memories surfacing. 
And they seem to be centered around the time we spent together in the early 
1700's. I was hoping you'd maybe know something that I didn't." Vicki looks 
down at the table, reading some of the literature that people have carved 
into it.
	"Strange memories?" Duncan asks. "What do you mean? Other than the 
fact that you're supposed to be dead..."
	"Says the 400 year old man.." Vicki smirks.
	"That's different."
	"Is it?"
	"Yes."
	"How?"
	"Because... I'm immortal."
	"So'm I." Vicki really seems to be enjoying herself.
	Duncan pauses for a second. "No you're not. I would have sensed you 
before you came through the door."
	"Not necessarily. That's awfully short-sighted of you to think your 
race is the only one capable of surviving for thousands of years."
	Duncan just frowns. He really hates it when he doesn't understand 
something.
	"Now..."
	"Now?" Duncan asks.
	"Yes, now. What I was getting at." She adds.
	"What were you getting at?" MacLeod admires Vicki's beauty a little 
more.
	"Will you just let her tell her damn story, MacLeod!?" Joe blurts 
in.
	"Ahem. Anyway..." Vicki begins again. She glances at Duncan, making 
sure that he doesn't interrupt her again. Men, she thinks.
	Duncan shrugs, becoming silent.
	"You should remember the beginning of this... Several days after we 
met in that alley, we became more... acquainted..." She half-smiles, "We 
were walking one night, minding our own business, when that immortal 
challenged you on the dock by the river..."
	"Kalypso..." Duncan mutters to himself, initiating a flashback.

LONDON, 1720

	"I have come seeking your head, Duncan MacLeod! And after I slay 
you, I shall claim your woman as my own!" The 6'2" gentleman in the long 
overcoat, with the short, slick, black hair, and brandishing a very ornate 
sword in his right hand, takes several steps toward MacLeod and Victoria.
	Duncan immediately reveals his sword, and motions Victoria to get 
back. "You picked a bad day to fight me, mister..."
	"Kalypso. Know it well, for when you're dead, my name will haunt 
your spirit for all eternity!"
	Victoria, confused about the entire ordeal, takes several steps 
back, and accidentally catches her white dress on a sharp metal spike, 
tearing a piece off. She continues moving back.
	Within seconds, there is a clash of swords. The two immortals engage 
in battle, knowing that, by the end, only one of them will walk away with 
his head.
	"I have no quarrel with you, Kalypso!" Duncan blocks his opponent's 
strike with his katana. "I've never even met you before in my life!" MacLeod 
swings down, parrying another attack.
	"Ah," Kalypso says, "But I know of YOU, MacLeod! And I will have 
your head!"
	Duncan, still on the defensive, ducks another swing, and springs up 
and kicks Kalypso square in the jaw, knocking him back several feet. "Nice 
to know my name gets around so quickly."
	Kalypso wipes blood from his mouth, and makes a dash forward at 
Duncan, which is countered by a dodge and a pin with Duncan's katana jabbed 
neatly between his shoulder blades.
	Unbeknownst to anyone present, including the observing Victoria, 
something moves in the shadows.
	Duncan hesitates.
	"Kill me!" Kalypso shouts. "If you don't, I'll track down your 
woman..." 
	That threat is all it takes. Duncan brings his katana up, and 
swiftly swings downward, removing the bond that Kalypso's head once shared 
with his neck. It flies off the dock and into the water. Duncan stands on 
his knees and holds his sword into the air. The dark sky begins flashing 
above Duncan. Streaks of lightning strike the katana, as well as MacLeod 
himself. His body convulses as the energy of the Quickening envelops him, 
and then it is over.
	Victoria rushes over to him. She takes note of the headless body, 
and kicks it over the edge of the pier. The current of the river will see to 
it that it's carried away quickly. "Duncan?"
	He looks up, sweaty and drained. "Victoria... I'm sorry you had to 
see that..."
	"It.. It's ok. I've seen worse." She then mutters, "Much worse..." 
She holds him in her arms. "You... are going to be ok, right?"
	"Yeah. You get used to it..." He uses her body to brace himself to 
stand.
	The shadows watch. And wait.
	"Used to it? What kind of life do you lead?" Victoria asks the 
fateful question.
	Deep in the recesses of his mind, Duncan knows he shouldn't tell 
her. But she already knows too much, he figures, so telling her the truth 
would be preferred over her making her own conclusion. "I'm an immortal."
	A deer in front a speeding Mack truck's facial expression is all 
that can describe Victoria's. "Immortal? As in 'I live forever' immortal?" 
Various things flash through her mind. Her secret was told to one other in 
her long life, and it ended in disaster. Could she trust Duncan with such a 
startling secret?
	"There are many of us around the world. We fight each other until 
there is only one remaining."
	"And the head...?"
	"Is the only way to kill us, by removing it. We gain the power of 
that immortal, and all those he gained the power of, and all the power that 
they did, and so on." Duncan pauses, waiting for some reaction. Something 
showing him that she understands. "I'm nearly 120 years old."

SEATTLE, 1997

	"Yeah, Duncan, you really threw me for a loop. I didn't know what to 
think." Vicki tugs on her skirt a bit, for it's beginning to ride up. "But 
like I said, I've seen a lot worse in my time."
	Joe seems content with listening to two friends catching up, and 
takes mental notes on his mental notepad. This keeps him from eyeballing 
Vicki's voluptuous body at every given moment, and embarrassing himself, 
Vicki, and Duncan.
	Duncan looks puzzled. "You said that back then, too. You were going 
to tell me something, but never got the chance."
	Vicki nods. "I know... After that, things started to get 
complicated..."

LONDON, 1720

	Young one, she thinks. But old for a human. She takes a step or two 
back. "Duncan, there's something I should tell you. Something that I've only 
shared with one other."
	MacLeod looks at her, which isn't difficult, considering her beauty. 
"What is it?"
	"I... I am..." The sentence is cut short when the sword of Malcolm 
Korn pierces her mid-section. Her mouth gapes open as she experiences the 
pain one usually feels when a sword has just been thrust through her body. 
He pulls his weapon back, and the body of Victoria falls backwards into the 
river.
	"Noooooooo!!" Duncan shouts. His entire world seems to be going in 
slow motion. Within those few seconds, everything seemed pointless, as 
Korn's laugh became fainter and fainter. Still weakened from his battle with 
Kalypso, MacLeod could do nothing to stop him. Korn was gone, and he 
successfully enacted his revenge on Duncan MacLeod.

SEATTLE, 1997

	"Complicated is hardly the word. You were gone. I even dove into the 
river to search for you after that, but I never found you.	I never saw 
Korn again either." Duncan sighs. "What happened?"
	"This," Vicki starts, "Is where it really starts to get complicated. 
Up until a week or so ago, I couldn't remember what happened after that 
incident."
	"And you do now?"
	"Yes. I do. And this all has to do with my... origins. With the 
damage I sustained, I wasn't one hundred percent coherent. Then I was 
discovered by this strange man..."

LONDON, 1720

	"Are you functioning properly again?" the man asks.
	The extremely wet woman, having been 'done in' by an immortal's 
sword, finding herself washed up on the shore, stares up at the person 
speaking to her. "Did you just say 'functioning'?" His long trenchcoat and 
fedora hat hide most of his features.
	"Isn't that what you heard me say?"
	"Yes. I just haven't heard anyone say that to me in--"
	"Six hundred and twenty three years, nine months, fourteen days, 
twelve hours, fifty two minutes, and thirty six... no, thirty eight 
seconds." He smiles, proud of his abilities, and his ability to show them 
off. He adjusts his long gloves.
	Victoria blinks. Years ago, that would have been her reaction. She's 
changed a lot since then. "How do you know... about me?"
	He tips his hat, revealing bits of purple energy that escape. "I'm 
responsible for you. Here. Everything. I know where you came from. I know 
where you are. And I know what's going to happen. I am the Tymwalker."
	"I appreciate you helping me, sir," translates to 'you're a nutball, 
leave me alone'. "But I think I'll be on my way."
	He touches her shoulder. "But you don't understand. I want to have 
lunch with you."
	"Lunch?"
	"Yes. I came to have lunch with you. I'll buy. It's the least I 
could do for having brought you into existence. In this world, at least." He 
seems to speak rather casually.
	"I... You say you know who I am. What I am. What I was about to tell 
Duncan." She thinks about having left Duncan at the dock, but is too curious 
about what this man knows.
	"You want me to say it?" Tym asks. "Or do you wanna have lunch 
first. That's why I came here, y'know. A nice turkey melt would taste great 
right about now..."
	She turns her head and her wet hair whips around slightly, smacking 
her in the face. She ponders the man's odd...dialect.. "Then tell me who I 
am..."
	Tymwalker sighs. "You're the Autobot Windwhistler from the planet 
Cybertron. You came to this mudball with others in 997 AD in search of the 
ancient Autobot leader, Optimus Prime, who was lost in space nearly four 
million years ago. You ended up crashing on Earth, and had no way of 
recharging yourselves. Then you, being the brilliant one that you are, 
devised a way, using the remains of your ship, to compact your bodies inside 
of synthetic human forms, which converted organic matter into a usable 
energy. You integrated yourselves into human society, and have changed 
'lives' every---"
	"Stop!" Victoria cries, tears rolling down her cheeks. "How do you 
know? How?"
	"Because I'm omnipotent. And I'm aware of everything that happens in 
my universe, and those in it."
	"Your universe? What do you plan on doing? How can a universe be 
ruled by one being?" Victoria seems really frustrated, having found out that 
her identity isn't secret at all.
	"I'll show you..." He removes his right glove, allowing the purple 
energy to free itself. Victoria steps back. Tymwalker lightly touches her 
forehead, letting forth a brilliant flash of light. "There. Every single 
detail of my plan has been encoded into your cerebral matrix. The catch is, 
you won't have access to it, and you won't remember this encounter for many 
years to come..."
	"What do you mean? How could I possibly forget...?"

SEATTLE, 1997

	"And you remembered all of this about a week ago?" Duncan asks.
	Vicki runs her hands through her soft, blonde hair. "Yes... As soon 
as it came to me, I took a company jet to America. It wasn't that difficult 
finding you."
	Joe takes a long sip of his drink. "And you're a robot? How can that 
be? Robots are just unintelligent machines. They can't pose as humans..."
	"I am. And I have." She replies, knowing that this wasn't going to 
be as easy as she'd hoped.
	"But... how?" Dawson asks.
	"How can Duncan be an immortal? There's a lot in the universe that 
humanity isn't aware of... or ready for."
	"Good point." Joe walks over to his bar and pours liquid into shot 
glass, downing it.
	"So," MacLeod tries to continue the conversation, "Do you know what 
that.. Tymwalker... put into your head?"
	"No. And that's what scares me. I came to you because there was no 
one else to turn to. This Tymwalker guy is still out there somewhere. I know 
he is. And on top of it, things have been really odd out there lately, in 
case you haven't noticed." Vicki takes a newspaper article out of her purse. 
A picture of costumed superheroes fighting each other, or, more 
specifically, the X-Men and Power Rangers battling the Green Ranger in New 
York.
	"Where'd you get this? From a comic book?" Duncan asks.
	"No. A newspaper at the airport. You'd think something like this 
would be all over television, but I haven't seen a thing."
	"Neither have I. " MacLeod ponders.
	"And this," She pulls out another clipping, "Is something that no 
one in the world could have missed." A picture of a crater is seen. "An 
entire city was destroyed by some kind of... machine, only days ago."
	Joe queries from behind the bar. "Friend of yours?"
	"Hardly. I think Tymwalker is manipulating all of us and--" Vicki is 
interrupted by an explosion outside, followed by the sound two cars make 
then the crash into each other while in mid-air.
	"What the hell's going on out there?" Joe asks, running out from 
behind the bar. Duncan and Vicki rush out with him. Standing in the 
artificially lit streets are four seven foot tall robots.
	The first one has a black torso, helmet, and upper legs, with purple 
arms, lower legs, and jet-like wings. A sinister green face sneers at the 
trio. "I am Storm Cloud, of the Decepticon Air Strike Patrol! We were told 
that there was an Autobot somewhere in this city. Take us to him, or die!"
	The second is the opposite of Storm Cloud. He has a purple body, 
upper legs, and helmet, with two dual missile launches on his shoulders. His 
black arms match his lower legs and large, rounded wings on his back. 
"Perhaps we should speak with them rationally first..."
	The third, with a gray torso and helmet, and blue arms, legs, and 
wings located on his back. "Let me at them, Whisper! I'll make the 
fleshlings talk!"
	The last Decepticon, sporting a blue body, upper legs, and helmet, 
and gray arms, lower legs, and wings, tries a different approach. "Y'know 
Tailwind, if you three'd shut up long enough, maybe we could find the 
Autobots on our own."
	"Why bother, Nightflight? We're superior to these creatures," Storm 
Cloud begins, "So why not show 'em who's the boss? I dunno about you guys, 
but being locked up and deactivated for years by these fleshlings has really 
fried my circuits!"
	While the four Decepticons argue, Duncan and Joe stare in awe.
	"I think I've seen it all..." MacLeod mutters.
	"Oh.. My... God..." is all that Dawson can say.
	"Decepticons... on Earth?" Vicki asks herself. "After all these 
years..."
	Duncan and Joe look at her.
	Vicki taps her wristwatch. "Suit on!" She shouts. A burst of light 
later, her body is encased in white armor, with pink details. Her eyes can 
be faintly seen from within the face shield, and she strikes a bit of a 
pose.
	The Decepticons stop bickering at the sight. "What the hell?" 
Tailwind shouts.
	Vicki smirks, then.. "Pretender!!" Her body starts to decompile and 
dissolve, as bright sparks of light emanate from where her body once was... 
slowly rearranging themselves into the body of a fifteen foot  Cybertronian 
female robot. Her white frame and pink highlights gleam off of the 
reflecting moonlight. Where Vicki Sharp was now stands the Autobot 
Windwhistler. Her blue optics glow brightly as she looks down at the four 
Decepticons.
	Windwhistler's voice sounds just like it did as Vicki, only with a 
more synthesized tone. "You wanted an Autobot... Well here I am!"