Standard Disclaimer: Not mine, though I DID buy the "movie" off e-bay. Interesting watch, that. Has anyone else noticed that MD:TAS has more going for it in the arena of potential than in actual plots? I mean, they had all this raw material just sitting in their laps and did NOTHING. More fun for us, though, yeah?

Not-Standard Disclaimer (Or: The Idiot's Disclaimer): I'm not a skater. I don't skate. I owned rollerblades at one point, but I spent more time on my butt than actually skating. Eventually I'll be using skater-terms, such as the names of moves and such. All knowledge has been taken from a web-page and my little sister's Tony Hawk PS2 game. Sad, isn't it? But I'm a hybrid of a prep and a nerd, so…yeah. Please don't shoot me.

Welcome to Your Nightmare

The Saurian Overlord Dragonius growled primally, flame licking from his nostrils as he crushed the neck-segment of a hunter drone.

Chameleon shrunk nervously behind Siege and Wraith, who didn't show their fear as easily as he did.

"Two years," Dragonius snarled, clawed hands behind his back as he paced over the remains of ten or twelve crushed machines. "We have been vying for this miserable speck of a planet for over two years now. Why?" When there was no immediate answer he rounded on the other three Saurians and roared, "Why?"

"The ducks, my lord," Wraith mumbled, clutching his staff.

"Yes," the Overlord hissed, "exactly. Those wretched mallards have ruined plan after plan, and we remain helpless against them and that blasted Mask. You have failed at every attempt to capture or kill them, bumbling and falling over yourselves in your desire to disappoint me. What shall we do about that?"

"Um…try, try again?" Chameleon suggested.

Wraith ignored the small lizard and began hesitantly, "My lord…"

"What?" Dragonius snapped.

"Perhaps…with the gateway…"

"Spit it out, old fool."

Wraith bowed over his staff a bit more, eyes narrowed and lowered, "My lord, we might attempt to pull help through the Gateway."

"And how would we get in contact with that help and let them know our plan?"

"There is a spell…"

"I'm telling you, Dive, these guys are awesome."

Nosedive trailed behind Thrash and Mookie, looking uncertain. "I dunno, Mook…Inline skating was considered a sign of juvenile delinquency back on Puckworld. I'm not sure my bro'd really want me here."

"Come on," Thrash protested, pushing the teenage alien from behind. "Skaters aren't juvies. They just like to catch some air."

"How?"

"Just…come on. Mookie and me've got a bud at this competition and you don't have any world-saving duty, so why don't you just chill and enjoy? We'll intro you guys once he's done, okay?"

"Fine," Nosedive sighed, "fine. Just don't tell Wing, all right?"

"Nosedive," Mookie began, looking skeptically back at him, "your brother doesn't even talk to us unless, like, the world's about to end. I don't think there's any chance of him asking us about what you, like, did today."

"Totally," Thrash agreed.

They broke through the crowd and Nosedive got his first exposure to Earth inline skating. Teenagers were everywhere, on skateboards and roller blades, doing a myriad of tricks that sent them skyward. Only very occasionally did anyone actually fall. Nosedive was almost instantly enchanted with this new form of skating.

What had he been missing all these years?

Thrash and Mookie laughed at the look on his face.

"I bet you could learn how to do this in, like, no time, Dive-dude," Thrash commented lightly.

"You think?" Dive grinned suddenly. "I believe I've just discovered another way to give Wing a heart attack."

"It's starting!" Mookie cheered. "Look, Justin's, like, up first!"

Nosedive watched the competition through a haze of longing amazement. Soon, he swore, he was going to be good like that. He already knew a few fundamentals because of all the tough situations he'd put himself into on Puckworld when irritating bigger, slower ducks. Definitely the street course looked like something he'd done before, with a few tricks thrown in. Who could have imagined all those years he spent running away in style had really been a type of simplified inline skating?

Thrash and Mookie clapped and yelled when the winners were announced. Once he'd gotten his medal, the grinning first place winner spotted them and made his way forward through the crowd. He was lanky, about as tall as Nosedive, not overly buff but well toned, with sandy blond hair and gray eyes.

"Thrash-man!" he called in greeting as he closed the distance between them, "Mookie! Long time no see. Where've you two been?"

"Working," Mookie sighed. "We've been running Captain Comics practically by ourselves for a while. Thrash might as well be the manager. Luckily they hired a new guy last week and we got today off."

"We've been helping to save the world, too," Thrash boasted, grinning and slapping the skater's offered hand.

            "Right," the skater chuckled.

            "Serious!" Thrash promised. "We've been helping aliens from another dimension that are here to stop a terrible warlord from taking over our planet! Right, Mookie?"

            "Like, for sure," she agreed.

            The skater laughed. "Sounds like fun! I wanna meet the aliens!"

            "Sure," Thrash agreed easily and pointed behind him.

            Nosedive grinned at the skater's shocked expression. "Nice skating," he complimented, holding out his hand.

            The skater clasped the offered hand unflinchingly, grinning in return once more. "Awesome," he laughed. "An alien!"

            "An alien that can skate," Mookie added helpfully.

            Nosedive smiled in embarrassment when the skater arched an eyebrow at him. "Do you watch hockey?" the alien teen asked with a rueful shrug.

            Obviously he did. After a moment, the pieces fell into place for him with an almost audible click. He pointed at Nosedive, exclaiming, "Dude! Dude, you're one of the Mighty Ducks! Number 33! You're in the NHL!"

            "Yeah," Nosedive laughed, "kinda."

            "Kinda? Dude, you totally rule the ice!"

            "I have help."

            Nosedive looked so totally uncomfortable talking about his talent that Mookie took pity on him and changed the subject. "Anyway, we haven't, like, introduced you two yet," she said to them. "Nosedive Frostfeather, meet Justin Pond. Justin, Nosedive."

            "Hi," they chorused.

            "Yeah, I'm Thrash, that's Mookie. Justin, Dive was just saying that he'd like to give his ultra-overprotective older brother a heart attack. He thought you might be able to help."

            Justin arched an eyebrow at Nosedive once more. "I love causing trouble. What do you need?"

            The duck pointed at the half-pipe. "Can you teach me how to do that? What you just did?"

            "Depends," the skater responded with a shrug. "How serious are you about it?"

            "As serious as I need to be."

            "Well." A shared and wicked grin. "When do you want to start?"

            Wraith stood before the gateway generator, mentally running over his spell once more. Dragonius growled for him to hurry up and he sighed very slightly. If only the Saurian overlord had let him explain his plan further, perhaps he wouldn't have been so hasty in his decision.

            Ah well. Overlords will do what overlords will do.

            Siege opened a gateway at a small motion from the dark sorcerer and stood back.

            The shouted words of the spell ricocheted around the Raptor, echoing in the minds of all those gathered.

            On the other side of the portal, a creature listened to promises whispered on the wind, promises for an opportunity to reclaim a lost possession, promises to be free of prison, promises for revenge and conquest.

            The creature smiled and reached toward the promises, tumbling into unconsciousness and an alien world at the same time.

            A second creature caught the backlash of the summons and, once through the gateway, separated to crash-land in an area not too far away.

            Dragonius stared down at the being magic and science had laid unconscious at his feet. He glared at his summoner. "Is this a joke?" he growled, and pointed at the creature. "This is a duck! Put it back. Right now. The last thing I need on this miserable planet is another of these blasted creatures. Put it back or kill it."

            The duck moaned and sat up. His eyes landed on Dragonius and he started. "That's odd," he commented, looking around, "I thought all the Saurian Overlords had been captured and sent back to dimensional limbo."

            "Are you afraid, duck?" Siege demanded, stepping forward with one fist brandished.

            "No, of course not."

            "Why not?" Chameleon sounded disappointed. "Aren't we terrifying any more?"

            "Oh, I'm sure you would be," the duck shrugged, "to someone who had reason to be afraid of you."

            Dragonius narrowed his eyes at the duck. "Why don't you think you have any reason to be afraid?"

            "Two reasons." He held up a finger. "One: You called me here. If you wanted to kill something, you wouldn't have bothered to call me from Puckworld." A second finger. "Two: I was in jail serving twenty-five additional life sentences for being on your side. Believe me, I'm an ally. "

            Wraith bowed his head slightly in agreement when Dragonius looked at him skeptically. "The spell was cast to call forth the one who would be the most useful, my lord."

            "What is your name?" Dragonius demanded. "What do you want here so badly that the spell called you?"

            The duck stood and faced the Saurian overlord, smirking cruelly. "The name's Dryden. Just Dryden, because my family disowned me before I killed them. And I want my property back."

            Chameleon, Siege and Wraith traded a look and a mutual thought.

            This duck was no good.

            Nosedive turned a sharp corner, grabbing the door handle to help propel him into the Pond. No one was practicing, but that was to be expected. They'd had their team practice early, early in the morning, long before he'd gone out with Thrash and Mookie. Duke and Mallory were probably training, Grin was most likely meditating, and Wildwing was helping Tanya fix the Duckcycle he'd totaled during their last skirmish with the Saurians. He entered the underground section of the Pond and skated leisurely toward where his brother was most likely to be.

            To his surprise, everyone (even Phil) was gathered in the Ready Room, clustered around Drake One anxiously.

            "Hey, guys!" he called, gliding up and peering over Duke's shoulders. "What's everyone looking at?"

            Wildwing whirled around. "Nosedive!" he exclaimed and wrapped him in a tight, swift hug. Then he held the bewildered teen at arms length and glared fiercely at him. "Where have you been?" he demanded, the Mask somehow portraying his anger perfectly.

            "Out with Thrash and Mookie. Why?"

            "Why? Why? Nosedive, it's past ten! Way past ten! You left at nine A.M. and haven't even called once!"

            "Geez, sorry, Wing," the teen apologized, backing away from his brother slightly. "If you were worried, why didn't you buzz me? I had my com on."

            "Oh did you?" Mallory challenged, picking something up off Drake One's consol and showing it to him. "This look familiar?"

            Nosedive took his com unit and slipped it on, grinning sheepishly. "Oops. Sorry, bro, it won't happen again. I was just meeting this really cool guy and he-"

            "Whoa, whoa, you think that's it?" Wildwing interrupted, frowning. "We've all been looking for you since nine. That's almost two hours, Dive. Sorry isn't going to cut it."

            Nosedive frowned back, crossing his arms. "What do you want from me, then?"

            The others, sensing an impending Brothers' Argument, turned to make a strategic exit.

            Wildwing opened his mouth to respond.

            At that exact moment Drake One sounded. Tanya quickly pulled up a map that showed two red flashing dots. Though one disappeared almost instantly, the closer of the two remained strong and steady and, best of all, motionless.

            "Teleportation energy!" Tanya exclaimed.

            Wildwing pointed sternly at his little brother. "We're not done with this yet. As soon as we get back, we've got to think up some kind of punishment for you. Got it?"

            "Yes, sir," Nosedive assured only slightly sarcastically, skating from the room toward the Migrator.

            "Let's go," Wildwing sighed, following the youngest member.

            "Ducks rock," Duke agreed, grinning.

            "It's strange," Nosedive commented softly, peering around a tree with his puck launcher cocked. "There aren't any visible Saurians or hunter drones, which usually means it's an ambush. And yet…I just can't make myself think this is a trap."

            "It must be because we're in a park," Duke offered in a hushed voice, pushing aside the leaves of a bush to look for whatever had teleported. "It's a pity we can't get more specific with our target locations."

            "Isn't it though?" the teen agreed, pulling himself easily into the branches of a tree.

            "You try building a supercomputer with primitive supplies and we'll see what you come up with," Tanya remonstrated in a whisper.

            Duke grinned at her.

"I'm not saying Drake One isn't a sweet machine, Tanya," Nosedive assured, dropping from the tree in front of her. "I'm just asking if maybe it couldn't use a few finishing touches."

"Your tree was over there," Tanya began in a low, confused voice, pointing to a tree three plants away from where they were. "How'd you get into this one?"

"Talent," was the easy response.

"That and all the trees have entangled branches and Dive's been climbing since he was old enough to walk," Wildwing added, coming over. "Anyone find anything?"

"Nothing," the three whispered back. "How about you?"

"Same," Mallory sighed, coming up with Grin. "And why are we all whispering?"

"To keep the suspenseful atmosphere," Nosedive whispered back. "It's the way all great horror scenes are played out."

"Shut up." Mallory had a great weakness for very intense horror movies. For some unknown reason, she loved sitting in a theater and being terrified.

"I mean, isn't it almost cliché? A group of semi-young quasi-teenagers and one genuine article creeping around the forest at-" he check his com- "ooh, midnight on the dot! Any moment now, some dark mysterious-but-oddly-evil figure will ooze from the foliage of a low bush and clutch at one of our ankles, pulling us to his hazy gray doom-world where we'll be sacrificed in a bazaar ritualistic ceremony to a quirky god that will eat the flesh from our bones and spin our dried blood into cotton candy."

The others stared at him.

"Are you joking?" Mallory demanded.

Wildwing shook a finger at him. "No more comics and late night horror-marathons for you."

Nosedive grinned.

Then the hand reached out from the bushes, grabbed the youth's ankle and yanked, jerking the young duck's feet out from under him.

"Yee!" Nosedive cried, turning on his back to aim at whatever had his ankle. "Let go!"

The figure chuckled and stood, still holding his foot, until the teen was practically standing on his head. "That's what you get for being loud and distracted," it informed him in a tired, raspy voice.

Nosedive stared up at the figure. "Impossible," he breathed.

Wildwing froze for a moment as reality sunk in. Then he leapt forward with a joyous cry of, "Canard!"

Canard smiled, dropping the teen's ankle and letting him topple to the ground. "Hi, Wildwing."

Nosedive sat where he had been dropped a long time, watching the loud and excited reunion that was taking place a small distance away. Canard was back, after all this time. That meant things were about to change drastically, for better or worse.

"So what're you gonna do?"

Wildwing shrugged. "I don't see that there's anything I can do, when you get right down to it. He's usually so good, and we're on an alien planet, for crying out loud. We can't exactly tell him he was naughty and send him home for the week."

Canard, sitting in the copilot's seat, considered.

Wildwing had told his newly found best friend about Nosedive's actions of earlier, not only because he needed to tell someone but also because he thought Canard would have some ideas on how to handle it. Truthfully, he didn't know what to do with his little brother. This wasn't the first time he'd been out late and it wasn't the first time he'd forgotten his com, so obviously something just wasn't sinking in. They couldn't bench him from games, they couldn't send him home, they couldn't lock him in his room, so what was left?

Nosedive seemed to have forgotten the incident himself. He had willingly surrendered his seat to Canard when asked and was now sitting in the very back, listening to music on a portable CD player, his head bobbing in small rhythmic motions, gazing out the back window blindly as he let his mind wander.

Canard, glancing back at him, shook his head. "I don't know, Wildwing. Maybe grounding would work."

"No…grounding is too cruel for him. There's no way he could sit inside that long, even if we do have a pool and a game room and a hockey rink and-"

"He'd be grounded from all that, too," Canard pointed out, marveling inwardly at all the comforts his team had secured for themselves in such a short amount of time. How long had he been gone?

"See?" Wildwing continued, oblivious to Canard's amazement. "It's too much for him. He has to be able to move about. If we tried to lock him in we'd just be forcing him into a position where he'd have to choose between disobedience and insanity. He's a good kid. You know that. I don't want to make him be bad."

"I always thought you were too soft on him," Canard sighed, "but that's not my choice. Okay, so if we can't ground him…what're we gonna do? We can't just let him off with a warning; that's not working."

"That's why I brought this whole thing up; I was hoping you had some…creative ideas. You know, other than grounding."

For a while they drove in silence, the hushed conversations and muted bass rhythm coming from behind them the only sound in the vehicle. Finally Canard asked, "When do you usually have team practice?"

"Six till eight."

"A.M.?"

"Of course."

"Okay. Here's my idea…"

Canard scrutinized the play, making sure every movement was totally, 100% perfect.

They had gotten better, especially Nosedive, which was a little surprising. The pipsqueak skated with a natural finesse and raw talent that blew Canard's mind. If only he could train that talent, he'd really be a force to be reckoned with.

Nosedive cheered as another of his setups to Duke led to a goal. Just at that moment the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of their practice. Wildwing hung uncertainly between the goalposts a second before skating resolutely over to the player's box where Canard was standing. Nosedive was a little more enthusiastic, racing around the rink a few times to kill energy before joining the group. His brother thought idly that he'd wish he'd saved that energy in a few moments.

"How'd we do, Canard?" the teen asked, seeming almost anxious for the final verdict.

"Well…you've improved. All of you," he added with a glance at the teen, who grinned back in thanks. "There's still room for even more improvement, of course. There's always room for improvement. Plus, I've got a few plays I've been working on for a while."

Nosedive began to ask a question, hesitated, and stood looking uncertain until Canard told him to just spit it out and get it over with. "Well…I was wondering, is that what you did in dimensional limbo all this time? Work on hockey plays?"

Canard blinked at him. "All this time? What are you talking about?" He shot a glance at Wildwing, who seemed surprised. "How long have I been gone?"

"Two years," Mallory said when everyone else hesitated.

"Really?" Now it was Canard who was surprised. "I guess that would explain the vast improvement in all of you and this rather large base of operation. You've been here two years?"

"Yeah," Nosedive agreed quickly. "Why, didn't it seem like you were in limbo a long time?"

"No. To me it was no time at all. One minute I'm jumping out of the Aerowing, the next I'm falling into a bush on what I've got to say is the weirdest planet I've ever heard of."

"Wait till you meet Thrash and Mookie," Mallory muttered, turning away.

"Who?" Canard called after her.

"You'll find out soon enough," Tanya assured, skating off the ice after Mallory, Duke and Grin.

"Don't you wanna find out who won the match?" Nosedive asked them.

"Naw." Duke gave the teen a crooked smile. "You, me 'n Wing took this one."

"He's right," Canard admitted when Nosedive looked to him. "By three points."

Nosedive whooped and began to skate away.

"Hold on a second, Dive!" Wildwing said, causing the teen to come back and look between the two older ducks in slight confusion.

"What's up, Wing?"

"Well…um, actually…"

"You've gotta hang around a bit, Nosedive," Canard interrupted, taking over for Wildwing, who had always disliked seeing his baby brother punished in any way.

"Why?" he asked, all innocence and trusting bewilderment.

Wildwing looked at Canard, petitioning one last time for Nosedive's sake.

Canard shook his head very slightly, and Wildwing knew he was right. Last night had been a third time offence; it was too dangerous to let the runt go unpunished. "Wing told me what you did yesterday."

Nosedive winced. "Yeah, I kinda thought he might. Look, Canard, I'm really sorry and I won't do it again. Okay?"

"Thanks for the apology, small fry, but it's like your brother told you last night. Sorry's not good enough. This is the third time you've been gone all day without your com unit. What if something happened to you or the team? We couldn't get a hold of you and you wouldn't be able to get a hold of us and it'd be pandemonium. Sorry wouldn't help then."

"Yeah," the teen agreed miserably, "I know."

"So what do you think we should do as punishment?"

Nosedive's stomach sank. He wasn't grounded? Not just when he was starting to get the basics of inline skating? How would he survive?

"Luckily," Canard continued, crossing his arms as Wildwing fidgeted in the background, "I was able to come up with a solution that doesn't involve you doing serious time in your room. Your brother seemed to think you wouldn't be able to handle it."

Nosedive sent a mental thank you to his brother as Wildwing shot the same to Canard. By labeling the idea as his own, the tan duck was keeping Wildwing exempt from any bitterness Nosedive might feel later.

"So…what're you gonna do?" the teen asked, unable to bare the not knowing any longer.

Canard smirked slightly, sitting on the player's bench. "I'm not going to do anything. Neither is Wing. You can go now, by the way."

Wildwing smiled his gratefulness one last time and skated quickly away.

"Then what?" his brother asked.

"Get ready for the workout of your life."

Wildwing heard Nosedive sigh in resignation.

A full hour later, Wildwing slipped worriedly into the rink's arena. He was very nervous, afraid maybe Canard had pushed his tiny baby brother too hard. Nosedive was zipping around the rink's border, completing a lap and racing to finish another.

Was he…he couldn't be grinning? Canard was a taskmaster. He had been the captain of Wildwing's hockey team for as long as he could remember and pushed his players to their limits. Was he going easy on the duckling because he was younger? Somehow that didn't fit with the Canard Wildwing knew.

The duck in question was sitting slumped on the player's bench, looking utterly defeated.

"What's up?" Wildwing asked in concern, sitting by him.

"Your brother is nuts and this isn't working."

Wildwing blinked at him. "What are you talking about? Is he refusing to do what you tell him? Maybe I could talk to him."

"No." Nosedive whizzed by. "That's not what I mean."

"Then what are you talking about? And why is he grinning? Are you going easy on him?"

"No." Another lap completed as a streak zipped past. "I'm not going easy on him. This may be one of the most intense practice sessions I've ever put a younger duck through in my life. And he's still going strong."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean." One more lap. "This method of punishment isn't going to work."

"Why?"

"I think he enjoys it."

"What?"

"Just exactly what I said. I think he enjoys practice and being pushed. These laps are his last assignment, you know."

The older brother shrugged, watching a tan blur flash by. "Maybe that's the explanation, then. He usually gets really energetic right before he finishes something."

"I think you're missing the point."

"What's the point?"

"I only told him to do thirty. He grumbled—looking back at it I think he was joking—and I upped it to fifty."

"So?"

"Wait for it." Nosedive passed again. "That was ninety-seven."

"What?"

"Exactly. That's why I think this isn't going to work as punishment. It was supposed to strain him, make him work and think and tire him out, give him a reason not to forget him com unit again. It's useless if he actually enjoys it. It's like spanking a masochistic kid. It simply doesn't work."

Wildwing watched his brother skate by again. Ninety-eight. He was still grinning. "So what do we do next time?"

Canard sighed and shrugged. "I guess we have to hope there isn't a next time and deal with that bridge if it comes."

The other duck nodded. "Works for me."

"Wildwing, what if, in the end, we're left with no option other than grounding?"

Wildwing shrugged helplessly. Ninety-nine. "I don't know, Canard. I just think it'd be the totally wrong thing to do with him. I don't think he'd be able to stand it."

"Yeah, but…what if we don't have a choice?"

At that moment, halfway through his one hundredth lap, Nosedive did the unthinkable.

He tripped.

It was one of those moments you know instantly will be with you forever. He knew he'd always remember just exactly what he'd been doing when it happened.

He'd been skating. It was supposed to be a punishment, but how could skating ever be hard enough to be considered something like that? He had personally chosen to double his laps, just because he could and it was fun. Plus, Thrash, Mookie and Justin wouldn't be waiting for him at the half-pipe for another hour. That actually gave him some time to kill, and laps were one of his most favorite things to do.

It was strange that he was thinking of his friends when he first heard it. Friends were wonderful and irreplaceable and precious.

The voice was not.

Nosedive skated swiftly around the rink, feeling proud of himself for his speed and agility.

Then he heard it, an echo from things that had been.

You are worthless.

Oh, God, no. Not that voice.

You're lucky I took you, boy. No one else would have.

It chilled him to the bone instantly. Why, after all these years?

You know what you are, don't you?

His left foot missed its subtle cue to move as he pushed forward.

You are mine.

The blades of his hockey skates tangled, sending him slamming onto the ice. He was too shocked to put his hands out and ended up landing hard on his right shoulder and sliding.

He heard, as though from a distance, two familiar voices cry, "Nosedive!"

What the hell was wrong with him?

He got up shakily, giving his brother and Canard a wavering smile. "Sorry," he apologized sheepishly. "I let my mind wander. One too many laps, I guess."

"One too many…Dive, what are you talking about? You've done a thousand laps before and not tripped!" Wildwing examined his shoulder through the uniform with worried, probing fingers, moving around the padding as necessary. "Nothing feels damaged. Does it hurt?"

"Not really," the teen admitted. "It was just a little…you know, shocking. I haven't tripped in forever. Goes to show you that cockiness really will end up being my downfall."

Canard frowned. "Are you sure that's all that happened?"

Nosedive had this one last chance to tell them what he had heard and what it meant. In the fear that they would think him insane, he plastered a smile on his face, ignored the dry, sick feeling in his throat, and replied, "Yeah, Canard. I'm sure." He finished his lap quickly but with no enthusiasm and skated from the rink.

"Where're you going?" Wildwing asked, still watching him with worry.

"To take a shower. I'm all sweaty. Then I'm gonna go meet Thrash and Mookie."

Wildwing's eyes narrowed. "Nosedive," he warned, but the younger duck only smiled reassuringly, holding up his arm.

"See? I've got my wrist com on. I won't leave it again and I'll call you if I'm not in by nine."

"Eight," Wildwing corrected.

"But Wing. I might as well call before I leave! There's no way I'll be back by eight!"

"Eight and every hour on the hour afterward or don't even bother leaving."

Nosedive sighed, defeated. "Fine, fine, I'll call, you chronic worrier, you."

Wildwing grinned. "So glad we understand each other. Now go and take your shower; you stink."

"Well, duh," Nosedive agreed, rolling his eyes as he switched his ice skates to roller blades and began gliding away. "I think I've already said that."

The older brother chuckled fondly as Dive disappeared under ground.

"Strange kid," Canard commented, and Wildwing nodded.

"The absolute strangest." For a while they were silent. Then Wildwing rubbed his hands together in anticipation and grinned at his best friend. "So, you up for the grand tour now?"

Canard grinned back. "Definitely."

"Perfect. Okay, here we have the-"

"Wildwing! Boobala! Who's this new duck?"

The white duck groaned, shooting a look skyward. "Canard, Phil. Phil, Canard. Quick," he whispered urgently to his friend, "run while you can!"

"Why? Is that little fat thing a threat?"

"The worst!"

"Why?"

"He's our manager!"

"We have a manager?"

"Just run!"

The two dashed further into the Pond, leaving a very confused Phil holding several stacks of papers and wondering what had just happened to his new money-machine.

Oh well. It wasn't that big a complex, after all. He'd find them eventually.

Justin applauded and cheered with Thrash and Mookie as Nosedive nailed his first totally perfect hand plant on the half-pipe. "Excellent!" he added as the alien teen completed another. "Do one more and come here!"

Nosedive did as he was told and skated over, leaping from the edge of the half-pipe to the ground and circling the three earth-teens before coming to a halt. He grinned hugely. "I'm getting better."

"Yeah! The last one was a little tweaked, but other than that yeah! Absolutely you're doing better! Dude, you're picking this stuff up faster than anybody I've ever seen. What's your secret?"

Nosedive shrugged, still grinning. "Back home-" meaning Puckworld- "all we do is skate. It's always winter so we've always got ice. Our skates work indoors and out, cause they can switch from blades to wheels depending on where we are. I've been skating since I could walk. Plus, I've been working out and doing acrobatics a long, long time, cause I liked to get into trouble and it's easier to lose a gang if you can do stuff like this. I've actually done some inline skating before, it was just on ice skates and I didn't realize what I was doing."

"Awesome," Justin complimented, "sounds like a cool place to live."

"It's colder, anyway," Nosedive agreed with a smirk.

"Smart ass."

"Thanks." The com on Nosedive's wrist sounded shrilly and he frowned down at it. "Oh come on, Wing," he grumbled, checking it. "It's only seven thirty. I've got half an hour before I've got to check in. Nosedive here," he said to the com and waited for a response.

"Dive, it's me."

"Hey, Wing, what's-"

"Drake One picked up some serious teleportation energy a few blocks from where you are. I want you to go there. Tanya's sending the location to your com. Head that way now but wait for me before going in. You got it?"

"Yup," the teen assured quickly.

"No heroics, Dive. Understand?"

"Yes, sir!" Nosedive saluted.

His brother sighed. "Be careful," he warned one last time and closed the connection.

Nosedive grinned at Justin. "Duty and my brother call."

"So that's what your brother's like. I can see why you'd like to irritate him."

"Not irritate," the Puckworldian corrected easily, beginning to skate away, "just tease. Once he gets over the initial shock of inline skating, he'll think it's pretty cool."

"Whatever you say, Nosedive."

"Catch ya later, Justin! Bye, Thrash! Bye, Mook!"

"Bye, Dive!" they called together, waving.

Mookie smiled at Justin once Nosedive was gone. "Cool, isn't he?"

Justin nodded, impressed at the kind of speed the strange teen was capable of. "Absolutely."

Wildwing spotted Nosedive shortly after the teen had spotted him.

"I waited," the teen informed his brother, grinning proudly.

"Well, good for you," Mallory congratulated dryly.

"And I also scoped the place out."

"Nosedive," Wildwing sighed, massaging his forehead with one hand.

"Hey, you just said not to go in and I didn't. Can we go in now?"

"What's this building?" Canard asked, looking at the large rectangular structure.

"Warehouse for a furniture store," Nosedive answered easily. "Filled with odds and ends, including but not limited to: refrigerators, kitchen cabinets, beds, desks, and couches."

Everyone stared at him until he grinned again and shrugged.

"That means there are lots of places for them to hide," Duke pointed out.

"It also means they've been here for about twelve minutes," Nosedive reminded everyone in an impatient tone, "and they could leave at any time. Let's go kick some tail already."

"Don't be un such a rush, small fry," Canard reprimanded. "If they leave then they leave, but if we just throw ourselves into a battle unprepared someone could get hurt."

"Hasn't happened before," the teen muttered.

Canard ignored the imperfections of Nosedive's youth. "Okay, so what do these warehouses look like? How many doors and windows?"

"Huge loading docks at the front and back with smaller attached entrance doors, five medium-sized windows along the long walls, two each for the smaller. Um, one skylight, virtually no security beyond locks and bars. Glass windows, not plastic. Doors made of metal reinforced by wooden crossbeams, ditto for the walls." They stared at him again. "Do you have any idea how bored I was waiting for you guys to get here?" he demanded.

"Okay," Canard continued, "so our best bet would be going in through the skylight since-"

"Bad idea," Nosedive interrupted immediately. "There's a huge ventilation system underneath it for just that reason."

"All right, so we'll-"

"We could just go in the way the Saurians did. They hacked open the back loading dock and left it open. I wasn't kidding about the security. This stuff must be pretty worthless."

Canard sighed and frowned. "Fine. We'll go in through the loading dock. Come on, let's get this over with."

"Awesome," Nosedive cheered softly, following Canard and his brother, who was wearing the Mask still. "Not that I care," the teen began in a whisper, "but aren't you going to take the Mask back, Canard? I mean, you did find it."

"And it made its way to Wildwing, who'll keep it," the older duck assured simply. "It didn't stay with me. I don't know why, but it didn't. Wildwing is the one who should have it."

"Okay," the teen agreed, "that works for me."

"Shh," Canard ordered as they entered the building. "Everyone be on the lookout for—oof!" A hunter drone got him in the midsection just after the last of his team had entered the building. Smoke filled the room.

"Trap!" Duke cried, slashing at two hunter drones.

"There are only thirty hunter drones," Nosedive hissed at his brother, watching his back. "This doesn't feel right. It's not like it should be."

"Just focus on surviving and sticking with me," Wildwing returned sharply. "It's getting hard to see. If you wander away I'll think of something evil to do to you. Understand?"

"Gotcha."

"Hey!" they heard Mallory cry. "Don't touch me, you filthy little lizard!"