Disclaimer: And I still don't own Darkwing Duck. Amazing, isn't it?

A/n: Currently if anyone wants to read more on this sci-fi topic you can check out Phoenix Ride's profile.

A/n: On the other hand if anyone wants to write the sequel or the prequel to this story please PM me because I'd love to read your stuff! I also like helping people with their writing and I can help you get your stuff off the ground if you run into any difficulties. I just want you to know that I'll be here till the day I stop updating and I am contactable by PM and you're not alone so please stop thinking that you are.

A/n: I want to tribute this story to Backseat Writer. Her TMNT stories are surely amongst the best stories I have ever read.

The Mission Briefing

No one could call the battle that had killed Darkwing Duck either small or trivial.

They'd had the hero's memorial not three days ago. His funeral affair had been huge with mountains of flowers and adorning flags on the Astroturf roof of St Canard Tower. On the subject of notable attendees there had been no less than twelve public service officials and notable politicians each one sporting a suitably solemn face. Six of these, including St. Canard's current police commissioner, the mayor and Director Hooter of S.H.U.S.H., had taken turns at the podium, speaking through the microphone about their various definitions of honour and duty and pride in one's country and how Darkwing had met every flag fall with indefatigable and commendable courage. They spoke out to a small legion of serving officers, the twenty-piece brass military band, and a throng of pod cast reporters from no less than seven unaffiliated social media websites.

The city was still grieving the departure of their greatest hero and the city's work crews had barely made an assessment on the infrastructure damage.

In his grey cadet jumpsuit and white lab coat Honker Muddlefoot walked in step beside his mentor Doctor Bellum. They were the first to arrive in the S.H.U.S.H. main meeting room for the emergency mission briefing that Director Hooter had called. When Honker looked past the door to see a picture up on the big looming screen of Darkwing Duck he experienced a moment of sheer terror.

Essentially, if there was a picture of the deceased Darkwing Duck already on the screen, Honker was unfortunately certain that this case up ahead of them was going to be extremely dangerous and involve a lot of hard work. It was purely out of stubborn habit that Honker was able to ignore the seed of panic and sit down beside his calm mentor to await everyone else's arrival. The memory of Darkwing Duck's farewell ceremony was still raw in S.H.U.S.H. Cadet Honker Muddlefoot's mind.

Honker silently nodded in acknowledgement as the other attendants came in and took their seats around the table. His first year trainer Vladimir Goodenov Grizlykoff sat down to his left. Some of his co-cadets, who had also made it past Grizlykoff's survival courses and form-filing trials, were also in on the meeting, understudying their own selected mentors.

The feeling that the city was now without the vigilante's protective presence was as daunting as Honker's first day as a cadet had been three years ago. In that case, however, Honker had felt the thrilling challenge with the prospect of success or simple failure. That certainly wasn't the case now. Darkwing Duck had been gone only a week and already Honker felt the grim reality of hard work settling into the caped hero's place.

Honker looked away and back to the picture of Darkwing Duck on the screen.

Since the night Darkwing Duck had died, Honker had a new addition to his list of private fears. This was the one where he woke up one morning to discover his success redefined as 'seventeen hundred hours'. It was a legitimate concern, he believed, and it rather dogged him almost as much as personal injury. Nevertheless, Honker's personal worries had nothing to do with Darkwing Duck's memorial service.

He refocused his thoughts on Darkwing Duck's picture and who the crime fighter had been as the person Honker had known. Honker was sure the crime fighter would have liked the grand farewell he'd gotten. The only thing that could possibly have made it better was if Honker had caught even a single glimpse of Darkwing's daughter Gosalyn Mallard.

"Good morning, everyone," Director James Gander Hooter beamed at the room's current attendants as he entered the room to take a stand at the head of the table below the big screen. As the last few chairs at the table were filling, Honker's attention duly moved on to the Director.

Honker had read in the long-standing director's biography that James Gander Hooter had started out his career as a foreign correspondent agent. The other thing that Honker recalled the most in his readings was that Hooter had a deep-seated loathing of incompetence and misdemeanour and of occasion would mercilessly detonate offending hover vehicles with the enemy still aboard. Honker decided he'd probably better focus on the briefing rather than how someone with that much guts could give such a genial Santa Claus impression.

"As you all should be aware it has been approximately one week and one day since Darkwing Duck was lost in the battle against the self-proclaimed cyberlord once known as Taurus Bulba."

Honker recoiled slightly, not liking the way Hooter had said that. Director Hooter was supposed to say 'his defeat of the self-proclaimed Cyberlord'. The implications of this off choice of words made Honker feel extremely pale.

The director glanced around the faces at the table and his gaze paused on Honker. "I am sure everyone here would like to keep believing that Darkwing Duck's death wasn't in vain. Perhaps we might settle on a middle statement instead and say his death has bought us time."

Time! That was the crux of it. All at once, Honker felt a fighting fury welling up inside him. He wanted to move, he needed to be doing something. But first, he needed to finish hearing what Hooter had to say. Logic prevailed and Honker contained his instinct to bolt back to the lab before he knew what he needed to be doing in there.

"Just as we feared and suspected, we have gathered sufficient evidence to show that Taurus Bulba has uploaded himself to the cloud." Hooter returned to the big screen display and started cycling through internet pages, showing Taurus Bulba's presence. Phishing money from social network users and hijacking random IP addresses to do it. "The possibility of concentrating our attention to clear him from the net is small however his security access privileges are currently limited to out of date protocol subscribers."

"Sir?" Timberly raised his hand.
"Yes, cadet?"
"Is there an ETA of when he'll start breaking firewalls? How fast is he learning?"

"Cadet Timberly, if this matter were only localised to the net, we would not be having this briefing as we already have a minimum of two IT techs on the job at any one moment, working around the clock, and I assure you they are the best in the business." Director Hooter then addressed the screen again and this time showed them video clip footage of Taurus' men on the move with their profiles listed on the right hand side of the display.

Honker's heart sank. Taurus Bulba was rebuilding his cyberfied body. Darkwing Duck was dead and the physical threat of Bulba was shortly to return in full vengeance to the St Canard metropolis.

Honker had another urge to get up. He needed to start developing the next generation of mutating super cyber trolls straight away! Although, he admitted, the last generation was a flawed idea. The field agents had discovered belatedly that Taurus Bulba had a closed system and was impervious to downloading viruses into his semi-organic software. But Honker was sure he would get it right this time...

The director started passing out assignment pads to the over-city and under-city field teams, "Agent Lanley, Agent Dodo, Cadets Timberly and Maddison; good luck. We're counting on you to put them on the back foot."

The field agents left and Honker's nerves were still on fire, still sitting there beside a very cool-headed Doctor Bellum, a muted Agent Grizlykoff and beyond him the ever-indelicate Cadet Johanswan.

"Cadet Muddlefoot, I can read your face like a book." Director Hooter stated when the door had closed again. "Please enlighten us with your thoughts on the situation."

"Sir, the field agents will only be slowing the rebuild down." He immediately took the offer. "We don't have the omniscience to put a complete stop to it." Honker breathed with the uneasy feeling in his gut. "That leaves us with the prospect that Taurus Bulba is going to make his reappearance no matter what, and the fact of that is that there isn't a duck alive that can take the Cyberlord on."

"That is quite true." Hooter answered, settling into a chair opposite them along the long narrow table, "However, Darkwing Duck came very close. And he did physically stop him last week."

Honker frowned sadly looking back at Darkwing's picture back up on the big screen, once again remembering the redheaded friend he'd lost to the ether as well and how he didn't see her at the memorial and of how much he wanted to have seen her.

He returned his gaze back to the Director. "Yes, he did, sir. Darkwing had a fair grasp on the inner workings of Bulba's psychology like nobody else ever did. If there was any way to even just ask Darkwing for advice we might be able to raise ourselves above the level of 'chickenfeed', as Bulba called us."

"And a rather scathing observation it was." Hooter remarked. "We indeed must learn from our mistakes and action a better response this time. And this is yours and Doctor Bellum's assignment exactly." Hooter slid the last pad from his pile over to Doctor Bellum. "Doctor Bellum, you two are to head over to our east side underwater facility and see if you can't establish some sort of a rapport with what remains of Darkwing Duck. Time is of the essence. Good luck." Hooter finished shortly.

"Yes, sir," Doctor Bellum took the pad and stood up, signalling Honker to do the same.

Honker could die of grotesque curiosity as he saluted Director Hooter and followed his mentor underground to where Doctor Bellum had her hover cycle parked.

Since they'd already had the memorial service, Honker was unfortunately certain; the 'remains' couldn't be very significant.