This is my first fic,  even though I have been on the FFML for two to
three years.  I finally chose to write (and more importantly, post) a
fanfic so that I actually am contributing member to the FFML.

That said,  this is my first fic,  sort of a test of the waters.  Please
keep C+C,  if there is any,  more constructive and not incinedary (I am
flammable).

I would like to thank Carl Macek for getting me into anime,  curse and
damn John Blankenship for seducing me to watching Sailor Moon (revenge
will be mine one day!) and threaten umm.. something to the Darkholder
crowd for introducting Hentai anime to me (yes you: Dianne, Sarah, and
Marty!) 

Blah, blah, blah,...

I think you have heard enough.

On with the 'fic.

P.S.:  My spelling and grammar are atrocious. ^_^

P.S.2:  I do not know if a crossover/fusion has ever been like this.  Oh
well.

(thoughts) -  I am using this format to express thoughts/emphasis,
because I do not know how to make italicized writing on Pine 3.95.
 


Night Sabers
A BGC/WOD:VTM Crossover/Fusion
Written by Me



	"May I have your attention, please.  Attention all passengers",
announced the female flight attendant boomer, "we will be arriving at the
Junction Airport of Megatokyo within the next ten minures.  The captain
has just informed me that we are now no longer in LEO,  and have a
standard flight profile.  You may now remove your secure webbing and.."
	The young and dark haired man in first class distractedly removed
the harness for his webbing, despite the small difficulty the black
leather gloves he wore were presenting in the completion of the simple
task,  as the attendant boomer continued to drone on.  He tried to keep
his movements sure and confidents,  but his nervousness made them jerky.
Taking a few calming breaths,  which he enjoyed greatly and marveled at,
even if he was breathing the recycled air of the aircraft.  Mackie
Stingray willed his fear down,  tried to stop the turgid emotions he felt,
and above all tried to avoid sweating.  All of these efforts were met with
a modicum of success,  allowing him to begin to review the impending
meeting and homecoming,  or at least how he intended to react.
	"Excuse me sir,  can I help you with that?',  asked the boomer
attendant,  leaning over so as to provide Mackie with a magnificent view
of her abundant albeit synthetic cleavage,  which his eyes immediately
went to gaze upon.  The new model Genom G-304S,  created and designed by
Mishima Heavy Industries closely resembled humans, despite the vacant look
in their eyes,  which made them the new favorite in the constantly
shifting public opinion,  more comfortable to the people of Megatokyo
after the Boomer Revolution.  They were perpetually cheerful, efficient,
obediant,  and beautiful,  and thus they found use in the service
industry,  both the common and unconventional services.  This particular
model was in the appearance of a teenage girl with measurement no human
female could have (at least naturally),  her voicoder set to series 3483,
producing a voice as energetic,  cheerful,  and bouncy as she was.
	"Umm...ahh;  I mean no thank you",  Mackie said as smoothly as he
could.
	"Very well sir", replied the purple haired boomer girl,  beaming
with a pre-programmed smile before she bounced over to help the next
person,  one row back.
	(An amusing diversion),  thought Mackie,  (and delightful
eye-candy,  but I have more important things to consider).  With a
dedication and mental martialing of will and and intellect, Mackie began
to organize his thoughts and review the background the people he would be
meeting would truly know.  They were ignorant of the Truth,  at least he
hoped they were.  It might be easier to explain things if they knew the
Truth,  but he was sure it would shatter what few ties he had left.
	He had left for Germany to study Boomer research extensively under
some of those scientist who were former colleagues of his father.  He had
studied hard,  for nearly a year,  even taking time to help his sister and
vigilante 'Knight Sabers' save the city from the genocidal boomer Largo,
which always brought a small glow of pride to him,  even more so now that
he knew the Truth.  But then he transfered to the Stockholm Biotech
research academy in Sweden,  and his life had changed forever.  It had
taken months to adjust,  to become tolerable,  if not bearable,  in his
new existence.  Unfortunately,  that mandated a lack of communications
with his sister,  his only surviving family.  She,  and the rest of the
Knight Sabers,  had become worried,  thus necessitating this return to his
home in MegaTokyo.
	Thus the current dilemna he found himself facing.  He could never
'return' home to his normal 'life'.  He knew that,  even though his heart
ached to be with a certain red-head,  and even though he missed his big
sister.  But he also knew if he did not return,  his sister,  being
wealthy,  intelligent,  and well connected,  would not rest until she had
discovered what had ahppened to him,  and thus discover the Truth.  And
his new clan had made it very clear what would happen then.  He loved his
sister,  and his friends,  and would never let anything happen to them.
His more immediate 'family',  the only ones he could truly say cared about
him maong the kindred of his new family,  had made it clear they would
support him,  but also made it clear that their influence was limited.
And thus his decision.
	"Attention please,  attenion.  We will be landing shortly.
Please.."
	Mackie again ignored the voice of the boomer attendant.  (Keep
yourself aware,  always) spoke the voice of his mentor.  Acknowledging
this,  Mackie placed the awareness of his peripheral surroundings to a
tertiary awareness,  within easy grasp.  It was not easy,  but then (the
best things are never easy),  finished the phantom voice.  Smiling softly,
Mackie controlled his anxiety by force of will.  Everything would be all
right.
	(Arrogance is the fall into the eternal darkness),  said the voice
of his mentor.
	His smile grew even greater at that comment, forming a smirk.
Arrogance, eh?  If anything,  he had learned that arrogance was one of his
lesser concerns.
	The plane banked lazily,  the morning sunlight streaming in
through one of the opened portals.  Mackie instinctively jerked away,
panic rising to a near total terror that threatened to break down his
self-control, before he regained himself, stopping from letting the animal
in himself reign free.  Gulping air heavily,  Mackie calmed himself,
allowing the light to cover himself,  basking in the luminensce that was
normally denied to himself.  Which brought him to his other concern.  The
formulae would work from eight _to_ fourteen hours?  That was a damn large
margin,  considering that his life depended on it.  Even with the other
liquid keeping him awake when he normally slept,  he felt uneasy;  too
many things were being depended on,  too many variables in the equation.
But there was little choice,  no other real options were available.
	(Always be honest with yourself).  Well,  he amended silently, no
other options that he could accept.  There was no backing down, no turning
back.
	There was a very slight jolt as the Zeus class trans-orbital
transport landed with near perfect precision,  the result of the advanced
computer system that linked the transport to the airport.  The transport
cycled back, the speed dropping fast as the flaps and brakes reduced the
inertia of the moving craft.
	A last minute flare of nervousness pulsed through Mackie.  What if
the formula ran out too soon?  What if he fell asleep?  What about mir-?
	The appendages that would connect the transport to the West wing
of the airport were already moving before the transport before the
transport came to a complete stop.  The boomer attendants began to move
about, helping passengers get their carry-on baggage, thanking them for
flying, and wishing them well.  Mackie stood up with the rest of the
people around him.  They were so alive,  some being relieved to be on the
ground,  some being business people ready to score big in the big city.
The urge began to burn in the pits of his canines, pushing back against
his mandibulars, but he did not really need to, so it was easy to ignore.
He easily hoisted his carry-on and heavy computer bag, not fearing the
possibility of striking anyone in the relatively spacious first-class
executive section.  He scanned the people in the cabin that shared with
him,  all thirteen of them,  adjusting his Gino-Armani suit and his tie,
and waited patiently to disembark.
	As he performed these rote actions physically, mentally he
fortified himself.  Again, the voice of his mentor and sire came back to
him.  (In all things, do your absolute best.  Always remember that you are
a one of the best,  a member of the elite of the ultimate race).  Mackie
strode into the airport with a confident and sure step in his stride.
(When in doubt, act with assurance.  When in a social situation, dominate
it, make yourself known as a power, but force only when necessary).
Mackie placed his computer bag over his left shoulder and adopted a hint
of a smile on his perfectly chiseled features.  At his bidding, palpable
arau of power and importance surrounded him, twisting the emotions of all
those who saw him to his will.  (Yes, twisting), thought Mackie, (twisted
as I have become.)  The self pity could not last, of course, as another of
his mentor's sayings hammered into his head like thunder, filling Mackie
with a sense of strength and purpose.  It said, (Never forget who you are,
always remember you are one of the elite, the true masters of all!)
	(Yes),  he agreed with calm certainty, exhaulting in his power, (I
shall never forget.)
	Only vaguelly noticed by Mackie, everywhere he went, people
stopped what they were doing, their eyes following the young man who
strode with such grace and power, people stepping aside like commoners
before a lord.
	(Which was only fitting), though Mackie.  After all, Lord Mackie
Stingray of Clan Lasombra, Strike Leader of the New Black Hand, 7th
generation of Caine, had returned to MegaTokyo.



Umm,  well...; What did you think?  Should I continue?