We come to it at last. The entire reason this story exits.

I am very excited to release this chapter. In fact, my impaitence to release this chapter has been at war with my desire for it to be perfect for years now. I lost count of how many times I reworked it. Doubtless, I will obsessively make ajustments over the next decade. Still just a little heavy on the exposition. Among two dozen other details which trigger my OCD.

This is not the end of the tale. This is my answer to a question. A question which baffled me in childhood. My mind cannot let go of a good question, even decades later.

Ahead of the first chapter, I admitted this story was influenced very heavily by another found here on Fan Fiction. Net. "Darkwing Duck Returns," by Scyphi. I was attempting to draw up a plot involving Gosalyn taking up the Darkwing mantle to answer my question when a certain line in his work caught my eye. I asked if I could use his general plot and opening act. But events in this chapter were drafted before any of that. I consider this the kernel of which everything else is built.

My question concerns Life, The Negaverse, and Everything.

Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck™ or any character, location or event from that said show.

Last time on The Duck Knight Returns

- Honker turns down Gosalyn offer for position of sidekick. Tank accepts.

- Negaduck attacks the presentation for GizmoDuck.

- Dr Reginald Bushroot is fallen.

The Duck Knight Returns

14. Incursion

Five Years Ago. S.H.U.S.H. H.Q., St Canard.

When Director Hooter sent his greeting and an urgent invitation to meet, Darkwing Duck anticipated a medal and a celebratory gala for his globe trotting efforts to dismantle the Fiendish Organisation for World Larceny/F.O.W.L. His mouth salivated at the prospect of unlimited funding for his crime fighting prototypes. He was giddy with the vision of Hooter calling Drake the son he never had. Unlike the disappointment, Deputy Director Grizzlikof.

He did not anticipate a plane ticket to Moldova, eastern Europe.

"You cannot be serious, J. Gander!"

"D.W. has been back less than a month," Launchpad protested. "He still has the bruises from going mano'o'mano with the freakin' Steerminator!"

The big guy was visibly upset. His voice raised. Immensely frustrated at what he saw was going on. Hooter wanted to take Darkwing away from his family again for no good reason. The room was tense. Formerly riding a high, Darkwing wilted. He was just beginning to reconnect with Gosalyn. Now Hooter wanted to take him away from that?

"I say Darkwing, you've never turned down an offer of an official SHUSH assignment before. In the past you've been ready to war with Grizzlikof for the right."

Darkwing explained. "I promised Gosalyn I was done. No more globe trotting. No dumping her with family friends for a year. I feel bad enough leaving as it is."

"Don't you have an army of agents who can handle this?" Launchpad demanded.

"I assure you, the full resources of SHUSH are being brought to bear. Tracking and apprehending this group is our number one priority. Grizzlikof is already on a plane to lead the operation. I am requesting you're assistance because I felt the situation warranted calling on our greatest available resource."

"FOWL couldn't have rebounded so soon," Drake muttered, trying to convince himself the world would be right if he sat this one out.

"This splinter group refused Taurus Bulba's control. They went underground to avoid retribution and devised a master plan of their own."

"The answer is no."

"After which they sought out Negaduck."

Drake stood ramrod straight. Blood chilled. Launchpad's glower morphed into worried expression and he looked to D.W. If Negaduck was involved it meant nothing good.

Negaduck had not been seen in St Canard since the night Bulba trashed the Mallard residence. Not one robbery. Bombing. Hostage crisis. No effort to collect the bounty Bulba placed on Darkwing's head. No effort to take advantage of the chaos with Darkwing Duck away.

In hindsight, the arch-villain's silence was terrifying.

"Five month's ago one FOWL splinter faction was regarded a low priority threat. How quickly our analyst's assessment changed once Bulba was out of the picture and they begun to take a serious look at the tech Steelbeak had been buying, borrowing or stealing. Frankly, we have cause to be alarmed."

"What is he building?" Not Steelbeak. Him. Negaduck.

"We don't know precisely. Theories range from a time machine to a black hole vortex. 'Ripping a hole in time and space' was how Dr Bellum phrased it."

…

Today

In the dark of his Pelicans Island sound stage, Negaduck sat alone at the foot of his Negagate working on his Gas Gun. Reconditioning and re-priming the compressed air module it used as propellant. Cleaning and polishing the barrel. Adjusting the sights. Checking the safety pins on each grenade. The strength of the grapple line.

Stealbeak's Eggmen gave him space.

Quackerjack and Megavolt had done good work assembling the gate to Nega-Quackerjack's instructions. Irreplaceable components take from the Wonderland Negagate were already installed and Negaduck acquired most of the common parts beforehand through legal means. The final complex items he had not been able to lay his hands on without drawing unwanted attention. He had tasked Quackerjack and Megavolt with this errand.

They returned presently, the Eggmen ushering a stolen lorry filled with loot into the sound stage and closing the warehouse doors. "We recovered everything on Quackerjack's list," Megavolt reported proudly. "Not a cop, agent or hero in sight just like you planned."

Eggmen began unloading the truck. Negaduck never looked up. He set down the Gas Gun beside him and began disassembling one of the pirate AKs.

Behind Negaduck and his Negagate, the Pelican's island set was ruined. Plastic trees hacked to pieces. The huts where the nominal hero, Pelican, and his adventuring companions were to call home had been shot up. Timbers broken.

Quackerjack was piecing it together. There was a tension in the air. Negaduck's uncharacteristic silence. The destruction on set and the eerie sense something was missing. "Where is Liquidator? Bushroot?"

Megavolt's rodent eyes grew wide with comprehension.

"Didn't make it," Negaduck answered. Preceding to clean the weapon in parts at his feet beginning with the barrel. Cleaning it with a rod, small patch of cloth and some solvent. Quackerjack and Megavolt looked to each other, disturbed.

"Complete the Negagate," Negaduck commanded quietly.

…

Negaduck had demolished them. One of their number was imprisoned. The media credited the capture of Liquidator and defeat of Bushroot on the heroic agents of S.H.U.S.H. while accusing the heroes of running for cover the instant the first tear gas grenade was let off.

It was a bad day to be a Justice Duck.

But at least in life, there is pizza.

A clap of thunder alerted the Justice Ducks to Morgana's imminent return. Bending the laws of time and space. Tearing a hole in realty. She stepped from a purple puff of a smoke cloud. Multiple dozens of pizza boxes levitated in her wake.

"Beauty, intelligence and hauling pizza. Ghoul of my dreams," Launchpad got a kick out his own lame joke. In a less playful mood, Morgana replied in a flat voice, "Ha. Ha."

To the living quarters of Darkwing's bridge tower fortress the Justice Ducks had retreated. A fortress of solitude. Away from the media circus. The sneers of S.H.U.S.H. agents. A safe place to work to remove Negaduck's boot from their collective asses. Fenton, Camille and Launchpad welcomed Morgana's return. Perhaps some welcomed the pizza more. And, rubbing their forearms, welcomed the end of Honker Muddlefoot taking bloods.

"Thisss isss ridiculousss. We fffeel fffine."

Before Fenton coddled the cold blooded creature, "Listen to him," Launchpad commanded. Seldom for the big guy, his tone warned there would be no arguing this. Camille glared and released a muffled hiss but said no further.

"There's no telling what Negaduck might lace his knock-out gas with. I'll run a full screen to be on the safe side," Honker assured the trio. What a cheerful thought. No one was complaining now.

To Morgana, "They develop so much as a headache, emergency department. All three."

They may have argued with Honker Muddlefoot. There would be no arguing with Morgana.

"Here you are Stegmutt. Tootsie." Three quarters of the pizza order went to the dinosaurs. Vegan. Without McDuck footing the bill for his adopted son's expenses, Morgana would not know how to cope. The financial bottomless pit would leave them deeper than Duckthulhu's realm. The wily old billionaire usually found a way to recoup his losses. He twisted their arm into signing McDuck Industries exclusive toy rights.

Morgana added for her super strong and super brave dinosaur hybrid teammate, "You were inspiring today, Stegmutt." Images and recording of Stegmutt defending S.H.U.S.H. agents and engaging in fisticuffs with an animated Tree flooded the internet. The lone Justice Duck the media dare not criticise.

Camille snatched her box and sat apart. Morgana ignored the lizard. Seating herself neat to Launchpad with their orders.

"Would you like some coffee, Camille?" Her addition to the league of heroes involuntary. Persistent efforts by Fenton to help Camille feel included did little to ease the hostility in the air. Hostility from both sides of the room. Fenton lamented Launchpad and Morgana were often unhelpful on this front.

With a sigh, Camille allowed Fenton to pour her a mug. A year ago she would have eaten alone in her room. Progress.

…

"Complete the Negagate."

The cruel duck in yellow calmly and deliberately inspected each piece of the weapon disassembled before him. Seemingly satisfied, he began reassembly. Passive. Unreadable. Indifferent to the turmoil he had created in underlings.

"Didn't make it?" Quackerjack echoed.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Megavolt demanded. A new, dangerous edge to his voice.

Negaduck continued to reassemble the gun at his feet.

Tiny sparks jumped from Megavolt's tightly closed fist. He stalked toward his vicious master.

"I asked you a…," and stopped mid-stride with the barrel of an reassembled AK assault rifle pressed into his lap.

"It means Liquidator went off the rails. Bailed on his assignment to keep our exit open and attempted to go on a mass killing spree. Got himself caught. And Bush - Reggie," Negaduck stressed the doctor's name. Reggie. He asked to be called Reggie, "he…. he…."

Words stuck in his beak. Negaduck's voice was breaking.

"He gave his life to do what I asked of him."

The supervillains were stunned. After all their capers. Surviving Wonderland. One of their own was dead. Bushroot was the least violent of all. He wanted out of the supervillain gang. The last Megavolt and Quakerjack had seen of him he was apprehensive as always but resolved to see his task through. Megavolt and Quackerjack were not even present to witness his death or avenge him. They were simply being informed he was dead after the fact.

"No!" Negaduck corrected himself. His voice trembling with fury now. "Reggie didn't die. He was murdered."

Spinning around Negaduck targeted another plastic tree to die. Eggmen and supervillian alike dove for cover and gunfire, the sound magnified by the sound stage, erupted. The clip emptied before Negaduck was satisfied. He began to beat the remains of the plastic tree with the buff of the rifle.

"He saved their lives and they killed him anyway. Hooter killed him anyway!"

Once the plastic tree was most certainly dead and his strength gave out, Negaduck sank to a kneel. Breathing hard from the exertion. His eyes glistened with moisture.

"Hooter killed them," Negaduck repeated.

"Finish the Negagate. I won't ask anything more of you. Steelbeak will have a jet readied for take off by time you are done. He will smuggle you wherever you ask to go."

Adding, for what little it was worth, "Please."

…

Spared reporters shoving microphones in their beaks or crowds jeering, there was one irritant the Justice Ducks had to tolerate. Even here, in their home.

"Man, this place is a dank, damp, dump. Did Morgana select the decor?"

"You know, I don't think I'll ever forget that pungent odor from your refrigerator, Tank," Morgana fired back. "And your bathroom had more slime than cousin Globby's."

She would know. She had spent the previous day a guest of Tank's abode, assisting the sweet girl, Maru, give Gosalyn a makeover. Even a witch turned her nose up at the apartment of a teenage, single male.

"The hell is a cousin Globby?"

Tank Muddlefoot did assist Morgana to remove Negaduck's shock bracelet. Went out of his way to garnering medical attention for the others. And flat refused to leave Morgana's side until the Justice Ducks heeded his demand they spring Gosalyn. Or relinquish the keys to the Ratcatcher Gosalyn entrusted to him although, when Morgana pressed, Tank generously offered submit himself to a full body pat down.

After ensuring Lunchpad had Gosalyn's baby, the Ratcatcher, tucked in nice and tight within Darkwing's vehicle launch bay, Tank determined he had the right to a little solitary exploring. His precious video camera glued to his eye. He wanted to get a shot of everything. Looking up from labeling his samples, Honker scowled.

"You can't film in here, jackass."

"Say's who, nerd?"

"Now, boys…," Fenton began.

"This is a secret headquarters," Honker stressed 'secret'. "You can't post videos of the interior all over the internet. The technology you're filming in here is worth millions."

"You don't say?" Tank lit up like a Christmas tree..

Morgana intervened, getting up to place a calming palm on Honkers back. "It's alright, Tank. Please just refrain from the GizmoSuit or Darkwing's crime lab."

To Honker she whispered, "I cast a spell of obscurus over the tower years ago. All Tank will find when he reviews the footage is his lens was out of focus."

Honker released a glad sigh, releasing his building tension. Until his brother spoke up again.

"See, nerd. Nobody cares. Shut the hell up!"

The uncivil interaction between brothers begun as soon as Morgana used her mystical arts to transport her team and Tank home to recuperate. Honker Muddlefoot was waiting on arrival.

"What is he doing here?" the brothers had demanded. Each furious.

Brief explanations and accounts were as follows. Honker deduced Darkwing's identity on his own soon after the Mallard's moved in next door. The days events being all over the news he came to the bridge tower to offer assistance. Morgana explained to Honker Gosalyn and Bubba had been arrested. Bushroot was dead.

Tank gleefully revealed his recent employment as a sidekick.

Honker had made a face like he was sucking on a lemon. "Sidekick?"

…

"I spy with ma' litt'le eye something beginning with… B!"

"Bars!"

"Correct!"

Gosalyn jumped to her feet. Clapping awkwardly in her cuffs. Squealing with excitement. "Okay, okay. My turn. I spy with my little eye, something beginning with C."

"Concrete?" Bubba asked hopefully.

The excitement drained from Gos and she sat back down. "Darn. Thought I had you that time."

Though he tried to resist, Bubba could not quite control his smirk at the unspoken joke shared between them. "I spy with ma' litt'le eye something beginning with B."

Gosalyn thought about it.

"Bars!"

One of the two guards finally cracked.

"Shut up! Just shut up, you're driving me crazy!" He hit the bars with his baton, implying what would happen if they did not desist.

Playing the dense caveduck, Bubba asked, "You donna like I spy?"

The guard's partner held his enraged colleague in check. Reminding him the kid can bench press a truck, so it would not be wise to step into the cell. An exaggeration in Gosalyn's estimation. A sports car maybe….

She retreated to the hard as nails bunk. They had taken her mask and fedora when taking mugshots. Her cufflinks as well. Hooter was wise to Darkwing's trick. Black ink stained the feathers on her fingers. Languishing in a S.H.U.S.H. Cell for hours. So at least she was par with Dad for a Darkwing adventure.

A pair of new agents entered. A doe and a dodo (the bird, not commentary on his I.Q.). The doe gave orders.

"Open the cell. Uncuff the Girl. Director Hooter wants to talk with her."

She said of Caveduck, "Cut the neanderthal loose. But leave the cuffs on. I'm sure our celebrity survivalist will manage. "

Before the agent could inform the prisoner to follow, Gosalyn brushed past her.

"I know the way to the principal's office."

…

Gosalyn indeed found her way Director Hooter's office unassisted, impressing her agent escorts. Past the many S.H.U.S.H. administration officials, agents filing paperwork and armed security details all of whom glanced in amazement at Darkwing Duck. Before their overriding discipline forced their head down and back to work. She halted at the office marked J. Gander Hooter, Director.

"Director Hooter said for you to go right in," remarked one of her escorting agents. They would follow no further. J. Gander desired a private conversation.

Unsure whether to knock or if there was a buzzer, and with the agents watching, Gosalyn elected to be bold and march right in. The old Darkwing would have strutted around S.H.U.S.H. like he held the rank of senior agent. Or appeared in a gas cloud declaring, "I am the Terror that Flaps in the Night!" and creating no impression on the unflappable Director. She could hold the dramatic entrance in reserve for next time. For a day when agents hadn't murdered a heroic duck in cold blood. Or left her cooling her heels in a cell for hours on end. It would be tacky to emulate 'the entrance' under these circumstances.

"Alright. You got me here. Now…!"

"One moment please, child," and returned to his conversation over the telephone.

Whoever was on the other end of the conversion and whatever was being said, it had the unflappable Director J. Gander Hooter steaming around the collar. He face was beet red.

"I thought I made it clear. You are to continue with your current assignment and only contact me through pre-established lines of communication. I don't need you in St Canard, it would only throw fuel on the fire. My agents are on top of…. I know what you saw in the News…! Yes. He is still in St Canard…. No, you are not to leave Europe. I forbid it! The situation is too delicate right now. We'll talk later. Darkwing Duck is here…. Yes, I said Darkwing Duck is here. In my office and probably more civilised conversation than you!"

Hooter slammed the phone down. The elderly bird settled back into his fancy antique chair, seemingly disturbed. A moment to breath and collect himself and the old bird addressed his 'guest'.

"Darkwing," formed the best grandfatherly smile he could muster. He appraised the ancient costume. Less well kept than fastidious Darkwing original would be seen in. For hope of picture time with the press. "Quite a performance today at the square. Feels like a lifetime since we last met, you and I.

"No, I'm not senile. At least, not yet. You are Gosalyn Mallard. The bold young lady who followed on Darkwing's heels no matter how many times he commanded you stay home. I am grateful you never dropped the reckless attitude. I can only imagine the look on Negaduck's face."

"Imagine the look on mine as your man murdered Bushroot in cold blood."

Hooter's smile dropped. "The Parrot Act allows law enforcement to use lethal force against powered individuals should they give a hint of resistance."

"Resistance?" Gosalyn was aghast. "He saved your agents lives!"

"I have two dozen agents in the hospital after being beaten down by an animated tree. Most will return to active duty within the year with physical therapy," Hooter added sardonically. "Do not lose sight of the fact Bushroot was an accomplice to attempted murder. My murder."

Gosalyn stood her ground. Forcing herself to speak calmly, clearly and quietly. "Your men fired indiscriminately in a square packed with civilians. Executed the man who had just saved his life. Arrested a Justice Duck. Your men were out of control out there today."

She felt like her words finally had an impact when the old bird looked stricken. "Control. Yes. Lack of control. I've already past mandatory retirement age. I'm not able to rely on my agents as I used to. Ambitious agents countdown the days to this senile old bird's removal.

"I can't directly discipline Donkey," Hooter admitted, "he has not violated any law or department protocol. Least not that any of his subordinates are willing to testify. Only reassign and pass him over for promotion."

"That's not even close to good enough."

"Please Darkwing. I am mortified over what happened today and how you've been treated," the old man grovelling was a far cry from his initial defiance and so pathetic it tugged at even Gosalyn's heartstrings, though she tried to resist. Hooter is a professional spymaster. These could be crocodile tears he is feeding me, her mind reasoned. He called by the title, Darkwing. It is pleasant to be taken seriously, her ego reasoned.

Hooter implored to her, "We need to work together, Darkwing, now we understand Negaduck's true intentions."

"Oh, I got that part figured out," setting Hooter on the back foot. Gosalyn listed known Negaduck motivations on her fingers. "Kill you. Teabag your corpse. Transform St Canard into a psychotic theme park of torture and murder."

"Quite," Hooter conceded, rolling his eyes. "But we know how. While we were focused on leading Negaduck into a trap, Megavolt and Quackerjack went on a crime spree throughout the city. Non-ferrous metals. Super-computing hardware and components necessary to shield them from extreme electrical surges. Unfortunately, I've seen these components assembled before. I know precisely what he is building."

…

Camille slinked off to be on her own after all and Stegmutt was returning Tootsie to her pen in the city zoo. Likely he would spend the night to keep the girl company. For an animal her size, she was easily spooked. Without a friendly face around the property damage could be enormous.

"Something's wrong with this lens. Can't seem to… bah!" Tank set his prized camera down. Resisting the urge to throw his baby. "So, we busting Gosalyn out or what?" Tank demanded of his hosts.

Launchpad and Morgana looked to each other. Sharing knowing, guilty looks. Each worried. Each wanted Gosalyn released as much or more than Tank. However….

"It's hardly that simple, Tank," Morgana understated matters.

"Mr Muddlefoot. You have my word…." Fenton began.

"Yes it is," Tank cut in, addressing Morgana. The witch. "Teleport in. Teleport her out."

"And be fugitives the rest of our natural lives?" Morgana countered. Fenton mumbled something about his leadership and no respect. "I would like nothing more than to use my powers to embarrasses Hooter and free my girl. Then what, Tank?"

Tank snapped his fingers. "Exactly. Embarrass them." None of the Justice Ducks followed his logic so he added, "Leave them scratching their heads as to how she did it. They would never be able to publicly admit their failure to hold Darkwing Duck and her legend will grow."

His idea was wild. Actually, his idea appealed to Morgana. Hooter would not be fooled but what could Hooter prove? She weighed the risk thoughtfully.

Launchpad spoke up. "Why all the clock and dagger? We are on the same side. Can't we just march into hooter's office and demand their release? They're both minors."

"SHUSH doesn't recognise minors," Fenton finally contributed.

The Parrot Act. None of Justice Ducks were surprised.

"Moreover, Grizzlikof warned me not to trust anyone affiliated with SHUSH…," Fenton revealed.

This did come as a surprise. Fenton explained his earlier talks with the bear. Grizzlikof was a company man. Vocal opponent of super-powered vigilantism. The world had taken a turn for the surreal should the Deputy Director of S.H.U.S.H. Intelligence be warning them off his own treasured organisation.

Launchpad spoke up with new determination. "Well then, if you ask me, we can't wait. We bust the kids out now."

Gosalyn and Bubba were close. As if they were his own children. For the last five years Lunchpad had raised Gosalyn and, under his proud tutelage, Bubba eclipsed the record for Junior Woodchuck Merit Badges earned. A record previous held by Launchpad himself.

"I have a strategy," Fenton assured the assembled team.

"Well. I mean to say, I've been in hot water with the law before over my hero activities. I may not be the smartest Duck in the pond. But I've come to appreciate the combination of a high priced McDuck lawyer and a P.R. campaign. Plenty of video must have been caught of Gosalyn and Bubba working together to defeat Liquidator."

Tank volunteered. "Oh, please. Allow me."

"In the meantime, I'll contact Grizzlikof. He can find out where kids are being held. Maybe even sneak one of Morgana's familiars to them. In case Morgana needs to provide the kids a quick exit."

Fenton left to do just so. Passing by Honker who was presently returning from the crime lab. Reported his initial battery of tests came back in the clear. Others would take hours or days to complete.

"Honker. Tank. Could you give us a minute? Launchpad, I need to tell you something."

Tank was more than happy to comply. He envisioned ambitious plans and was eager to assist through the medium he loved. "I'll get started on my heroic Darkwing site. I'll spam the entire net with vids of her taking down Liquidator."

"Here, I'll show you the quick route between the tower and home," Honker offered. Showing Tank to the twin living room chairs which doubled as a secret means of transport between the tower and the Mallard residence.

"Oh yeah, that was a sick ride," Tank complimented Darkwing's high speed transport, emerging at the Mallard living room. "Best roller coaster ever."

"To activate the chairs again," Honker tilted back the head of the mouse detective statue situated between the two chairs, "press this button."

"Got it."

"Now, this statue has a different purpose," Honker indicated to a small table out in the hallway. Just through the front door. A lone, gold plated statue of Darkwing Duck posed proudly. One hand pointing triumphantly to the sky.

Tank followed, eager for more awesome gadgets. Honker lifted Drake Mallard's vainglorious statue by the base. And caved his brother's face in with it.

…

Grainy, black and white security footage. Low tech to the point it could not plausibly have been F.O.W.L. tech. The organisation had a record for producing top notch gadgets. This was during a time, however, where F.O.W.L. fortunes had taken a dive.

The security footage was trained on a ring device. The centre a cauldron of violent activity. An evil eye of crimson glow. Electrical storms dancing across the device necessitating surge protection. The passage to the Negaverse was a fearsome one.

The figure of Negaduck revved his wielding his chainsaw and lunged for an opponent off screen. The majority of the battle had not been caught by the tape. No sound. It was only evident a scuffle continued whenever a nut rolled past or the spark of an electrical wire. Items were being trashed off screen.

Negaduck returned to view, staggering back. Coughing violently. Difficulty drawing breath. Choking on gas haze around him.

Darkwing made his move, charging into the frame. He grabbed Neg's chainsaw arm with both hands and forced it back. Back to connect with the cursed portal ring. It's sharpened chain biting into the Negagate. How much damage Dark achieved was not clear. The ring was of solid construction but many wires and components were fixed along the outside. It was a piecemeal contraption.

Negaduck fought back. Placed his free arm against Dark's beak and tried to push him off. He raised a foot against Dark's chest really pushed him off. Dark tried again, rushing the villain. He gripped Negaduck's chainsaw arm and hammered it. Hammer it against a guardrail. Hammer, hammer, hammer until the chainsaw dropped.

Negaduck retaliated with a backhand across Dark's face.

Dark accepted the blow. Hit back with an attempted blow to the gut.

Negaduck pinned the blow under his elbow. Locking Darkwing's arm. He went for an eye gouge but the arm he used was on the sluggish side after the hammering. Dark caught it. The fight became a vicious grapple. Beak to beak, landing blows where they could. Utilising fists, elbows and knees.

Darkwing used the gas gun. Firing a tear gas canister point blank in Negaduck's kidneys. The blocky canister did not penetrate as a bullet does although you don't laugh off a grenade 'brick' fired out a gas power cannon. Internal bleeding a certainty. He was going to need a doctor.

The tear gas disoriented Negaduck further and a blow to the head with the butt of the gun laid him out.

Darkwing was doing better. He was still standing. A cloud of tear gas in his face, he was not feeling great. Stumble, he did, to the Negagate controls and supported himself against it. He had one advantage over Negaduck in he knew what was coming. Held his breath but needed to keep one eye open to deliver the knock-out blow. He had tubes of counter-agents in his kit. He squeezed the discomforting liquid, not as discomforting as tear gas, into his eyes. Continually blinking to clean his eyes.

The portal was his target. F.O.W.L. could rebuild but this day the world would be safe.. He tore into the panels and wiring, looking for components matching the descriptions of Dr Sarah Bellum. Vital components to target.

What actions he was taking to disrupt or destroy them was not clear on the recording. Placing items, his cufflinks, inside the heart of the device. Probable they were disguised explosives.

Flash. A violent bark of light.

Flash.

Something occurred on the lower portion of the screen.

Darkwing stumbled. He was down on one knee. Forehead and cheek flat against the control box. But he would not, could not, remain down.

The newcomer came forward. The top portion of his body became visible. The spine of his classy, white morning jacket. His head set of attentively groomed long red comb where other species may have hair. He was a uniquely tall bird.

He approached Darkwing. Cautious. A gun in his outstretched arm. Lowered to a forty-five degree angle. Bobbing his head, unsure if his opponent was truly subdued.

Movement. The Gas Gun was out. Rising.

Rising.

Flash.

Darkwing Duck's wings went limp at his sides.

His eyes were wide. Confused. As if he was still unclear as to what had just occurred. Or maybe unsure why his body no longer responded to his commands.

His legs buckled. He stumbled backward.

The violent storm of the Negagate consumed him.

…

Hooter had advised Gosalyn to sit down before viewing the tape. It was fortunate she took his advice. Sometime during the video her legs had morphed to jello and were guaranteed to crumple should she stand. The room temperature dropped drastically and Gosalyn could feel her wings were shivering. She could not still them. The contents of her stomach threatened to froth up.

Deliberately trying not to make a sound in the uncomfortable, oppressive atmosphere of the room, Hooter dialed the T.V. monitor off. He sat back down behind his desk and, Gosalyn still unresponsive, swallowed and began to provide context for what she had just watched.

"Five years ago, a rogue FOWL splinter group partnered with Negaduck to build a Negagate. A device which, synced with an identical device in the Negaverse, allows safe and reliably transport between our two parallel universes.

"With the Negagate, FOWL would access a planets worth of morally repugnant individuals, sick of feeding off the dead corpse of the Negaverse and eager to plunder our Earth. Indeed, a more insidious threat is the potential for infiltration. Who could know if the President were to be replaced by a negaverse doppelganger and order a nuclear strike?

"I asked Darkwing Duck to intervene and end the threat of the FOWL gate. Unfortunately, it was a mission from hence Darkwing did not return."

Five years without a father. Five years of questions and no one held answers. Launchpad told her what he knew of course, but the silence from S.H.U.S.H. was damning. "You should have shown this tape to my family five years ago," Gosalyn threw at the accursed old bird with an accusatory tone.

"It was deemed classified…."

"We're done here," Gosalyn broke in, although she failed to rise or make any move to leave. Instead remaining seated. The honest truth knew her legs would fail her if she tried to storm out. Nevertheless, the underlying sentiment to her statement was ironclad. The trust between Darkwing Duck and the director of S.H.U.S.H. was forever tarnished. Gosalyn was determined to be a new Darkwing Duck. Beholden to no one.

"We mounted a rescue expedition," Hooter quickly added, hoping to placate. Mistaking her not immediately and furiously marching out of his office as a sign. The last rope bridge between was not burnt. It still held on by a blackened thread. If she were still willing to listen, there was still a relationship left to salvage.

"Determined to ascertain the fate of Darkwing Duck and counter the threat of a Negaverse invasion, SHUSH completed the FOWL Negagate and launched an expeditionary force. Here, I made a terrible, terrible mistake."

Might as well learn everything he knows, Gosalyn rationalised. However satisfying it might be to tell him where to stick it, defiantly turn her back and march out. If she could march out without stumbling or making a fool of herself.

Everything he is willing to share, Gosalyn mentally corrected.

"What do you know of the Negaverse?" Hooter asked.

Darkwing told her once of his unexpected trip to parallel Negaverse, thrown into a secret rip in space-time battling the Fearsome Five for a bakery where he was also to purchase a birthday cake for Honker. It stood out as one of the more memorable Darkwing adventures. Gosalyn was honestly disappointed Honker and herself had missed it.

Attempting to sound flippant, Gosalyn answered, "It's a world where everyone good is evil and everyone evil is good."

"Yes!" Hooter agreed. "That is the exact mistake we made. It's far too simplistic to think of the Negaverse in terms of morality reversed. Because morality is subjective. The Negaverse is more complex than we appreciated."

Alright. Broken trust aside, Gosalyn had to admit she was curious now. Who knows? This information may be critical once she stole the S.H.U.S.H. Negagate and found her father.

"Darkwing reported the Negaverse as a duplicate universe where good has become evil and vice versa. We knew our Negaverse SHUSH counterparts could not be trusted so in order to effectively defend ourselves from the Negaverse we formed an alliance with the band of heroes, the Friendly Four, and, in time, 'nega' FOWL.

"The evidence our gross miscalculation was under our beaks the entire time. A young orphan. Adopted by the Friendly Four. Gosalyn Waddlemeyer"

"My doppelganger?" Gosalyn thought back to the home movie Morgana played for her. "She can control the powers of the Fearsome Five and defeated the security at your top secret base almost single handed. "

She would have enjoyed the old bird being stumped for a change if she had not been so furious. "You are very well informed, Darkwing."

Gosalyn elected not to elaborate on her sources. Patiently waiting for Hooter to continue.

"Naturally the Friendly Four were our first allies stepping in to 'nega' St Canard. Their wards, the adorable Gosalyn Waddlemeyer and studious Tankard Muddlefoot, were welcome in our Negaverse enclave. Indispensable as guides to the Negaverse. Brightened our home away from home. No one thought to ask. How is it possible Gosalyn Waddlemeyer and Gosalyn Mallard could both be honest, kind, noble individuals?"

"Nega-Gosalyn is a villain," Gosalyn protested. Concerned she was being accused of secretly harbouring a dark side.

"Because we made her one. We acted on an flawed assumption. We arrested and locked away figures we knew as heroes on our world while making alliances with the worst villains. My first inkling of our error came when we brought in Fenton Crackshell. A bean counter living in his mother's trailer. A cowardly and submissive duck, but far from evil by any stretch.

"The Negaverse doesn't reverse good and evil. It brings out our negative qualities. The Negaverse enhances whatever little piece of ourselves we try to hide or deny. The catch is that the Negaverse can never introduce a quality not already present. It has to already be within ourselves. Which is how I know Gosalyn Mallard secretly adores frilly dresses. And styling her hair. And her favourite colour is pink."

Gosalyn's little duck brain screamed, 'How does he know?!' Gosalyn was speechless. Extreme alarm and rage warred within her soul.

"Little Gosalyn Mallard. The tomboy. The troublemaker. Aggressive and spirited. All the other girls in school were beautiful. You must have yearned for someone to see you as feminine. Maybe a boy in your life?"

Rage won. Her legs remembered their strength now.

"Not another muthafuckin' word!" She slammed a fist down on Hooter's desk so hard it ached and throbbed. Gosalyn was red with fury and embarrassment. All her most damning secrets. This time the guards outside Hooter's office rushed in with their weapons drawn, but Hooter waved them off. Ordered them to return to their post.

"You could learn a thing or two from Morgana about being feminine and assertive."

"You've made you're point, old man. I ought to slap the beak right off you. Digging into a woman's personal affairs."

Hooter grinned but it faded and he continued.

"There were other signs. Scrooge McDuck built a fortune off cheating others. Political pay-offs. Legal threats. Steelbeak little more than a uncouth thug. My own counterpart was involved in law enforcement.

"Tankard Muddlefoot as well. Genius I.Q. He dreads the social stigma of being labeled a nerd. Or the sting of his admittedly dull witted parents being unable to relate. Spent his life playing the bully and fool to fit in socially."

Tank. A genius. Now Gosalyn knew Hooter's theory was bullshit.

"What about Honker?"

Hooter deadpanned. He picked his words carefully. "Honker has a lot of rage."

…

His brawler instincts kicked in before his brain understood what happened. Tank leaned away from the strike, only receiving a glancing blow. It hurt like hell as it cut him open from earlobe to cheek but his actions probably spared him a fractured skull. That, and his brother was a sissy.

Honker lifted his arm and swung again but Tank had the height. The weight. The experience. Grabbed Honk's wrist mid trajectory. Slammed a fist into his younger brother's kidney. Twisted his arm behind his back in a hold. Twisted until the statue dropped from his grip.

"Enough!" Tank roared.

He shoved Honker away. The smaller boy ate carpet. His oversized glasses landed two feet from him. Tank grimaced. He had not meant to push so hard. Ideally, he had not meant to hurt the wimp at all. Only defend himself.

Chocking and gulping air from the blow to his midsection. Utterly defeated. Honker picked himself, and his glasses, up. He turned his back and walked away.

"What the hell was that for?" Tank demanded. He had blood streaming down the side of his head for God sake. When Honker wouldn't even stop to explain he pursued his brother out the Mallard's front door. Out on the lawn. Angrily grabbing him by the shoulder and forcing a confrontation.

"Hold up, I'm talking to you!"

"What the fuck are you doing out there, playing sidekick to Gosalyn's crazy adventuring?" Honker chocked and wheezed on his words. Undoubtedly, for him it was agonising to so much as breathe. He remained partially doubled over. Clutching his side.

"She told me you turned her down. Someone has to watch her back out there and since you don't care about her…."

"I was trying to protect her!" Honker blurted, so red with fury Tank worried he would throw another punch.

"Could have fooled me."

Tank was reminded of a class assignment from his now distant past. Some weedy Shakespeare assignment he failed. A hunchbacked villain with eyes consumed with hate.

"You fat fuck. You make it possible for her. She leaves school and you get her work. She leaves home and you invite her in. She becomes a vigilante and you tag along. You enable her. When she gets her head blown off, which is exactly what will happen when you run into Negaduck, it will be your fault."

The ice cold hate Honker could inflect into his voice may have made an impression on Tank. If his brother were not such a pathetic whelp. Arms like noodles.

"You think Gosalyn would have let this go if I refused like you? Better me watching her back than a coward waiting for her at home." Tank sneered, continuing, "I care about her too. I want her back in school. I want her back home with her family. That's why I agreed to aid Darkwing Duck. So I can get her home safe."

"Where is she now, Tank?"

"Probably not dead."

"What are you going to do to get her home safe? Can you fight Negaduck? Can you solve a crime? Tank, can you add 2 + 2?"

This shrimp was one insult away from loosing the other kidney.

"I'd take a bullet for her."

"Yes. You will," Honker found the idea agreeable. "If she dies in the gutter, you'd better be dead right alongside her. Don't ever come back without her, Tank. You don't ever come back without her or I'll finish what I started today."

Honker resumed walking away.

The brothers' relationship had forever been a broken thing, Tankard knew. He regretted all the petty ways in which he tortured his younger brother. Regretted it for a long time. He wanted to change but every time Honker opened his beak….

Honker was reading at a tenth grade level in diapers. Every word he uttered was the from the dustbin of history or scientific babble. Causing venom to bile up from Tankard's soul. Did the boy not understand? Nerds deserved to get pushed around. Nerds make their parents feel intellectually inadequate. Why could his little brother never learn to drop the book smarts? Then he might have made some friends at school.

Now Tank understood something new. Their relationship was not broken. It had been non-existent. Now it was downright deadly.

He knew he should not. He derived no pleasure from causing Honker hurt. Tank could never change. "All the encouragement and reassurance I give her, she wants from you. You've got your head so far up your ass. That's why she sleeps in my bed now."

"I hate you," Honker threw back at his brother.

"I know," Tank acknowledged.

…

Gosalyn summarised what Hooter had revealed, so far as she understood. "So you went on a holy crusade, dishing out summary justice on the simplistic understanding that good here equates to evil within the Negaverse. You arrested innocent people."

"And empowered men who were evil in this world only to realise they were still evil. Sometimes worse. 'Nega' FOWL was still FOWL," Hooter lamented.

He continued. "Negaduck is correct on one issue. The damage we wrought on the Negaverse before coming to the realisation the lines of good and evil were in-comprehensively blurred – I cannot forgive myself. All I care for now is to prevent the chaos reaching this world."

Gosalyn paced. "Negaduck. You're entire conception of the negaverse collapses with Negaduck."

Hooter was sympathetic and patient. "Is it really so surprising?"

Gosalyn was defiant. "You're wrong! You can't tell me there was a monster beneath the surface. Darkwing Duck was a hero!"

"Darkwing Duck was a self-serving, egotistical, narcissist."

Gosalyn winced. She wanted to deny Hooter's accusation. How could she? She had mocked these flaws herself. Many times and to her father's face.

"Drake Mallard. Brilliant mind. Odd personality, to put it kindly. Never had a friend. Peers relentlessly hounded him. 'Drake the Dweeb.' The more they put him down the harder he worked to prove his superiority. The harder he worked the more his strangeness repulsed them. In our world, Drake did something novel. He put on a mask and a cape. Negaduck walked into class with a gun.

"You know as well as I, Darkwing's heroics were driven by ego. Seeking fame and respect to fill the bottomless pit that was his own lack of self-worth. What if, instead, Darkwing had found self-worth in infamy and fear?"

Flashes of her time travelling encounter with Darkwarrior Duck crossed Gosalyn's mind. Her blood ran cold.

"So, my deepest, darkest desire is to be a lady. Darkwing was secretly a psychopath. Thanks for the unasked psychological profile."

"Afterward, each discarded their identity as Drake Mallard. Letting their past die. Killing it, you might say, in the case of Negaduck. By time a young orphan found Darkwing alone in an old bridge tower he had forgotten his name. You saved him. By believing in him."

Hooter flicked the monitor on once more. The glowing ring. The evil eye which swallowed her father.

"Negaduck has rebuilt the Negagate. Linked to a Negagate already completed in the Negaverse a stable wormhole can be created. Every criminal, every gangster, every piece of scum in the Negaverse will be free to enter our world. Negaduck will have an army.

"It's here. Somewhere in the city. Our analytical department estimates we less than seventy-two hours before it is active.

"Darkwing Duck. I am asking you to help us save this city one more time. Find Negaduck. Destroy the Negagate. I have a squad of agents ready to deploy the moment you give us a location."

…

The window of Hooter's office had always been Darkwing Duck's preferential entrance and exit. Appearing before Hooter's desk in a cloud of smoke. His theatrics never achieved the same level of impact with Hooter as they did with the superstitious criminal element of St Canard, though the duck never gave up.

The new Darkwing Duck was forced to break with tradition. It was a less practical means of leaving the office now Hooter had recycled battleship armour plate bolted to the side of the building. Precaution against snipers. She used the door.

Agent Donkey entered soon after her departure.

"Her anger struck me as genuine. All of this was new information. I believe he has made no contact."

"Agreed," Donkey had been listening in from the beginning of course. "May change now the girl's running around town in that stupid costume."

"Then I suggest you assign better tails who won't lose her this time."

"Shouldn't be hard now we switched her cufflinks."

Hooter nooded. "What would you say, Agent Donkey? Have I won her trust? Is Darkwing Duck with us?"

"If the end is the same, does it matter?"

Hooter sighed and looked down. On Hooter's side of the desk there was an open draw. Bottom right. Gosalyn would not have seen without walking around or leaning over his desk. Within this draw there was a gun.

"No. I suppose it does not."

…