Oh goodness, she's at it again.
To answer a question on a previous story's comment, I do attempt to stay in the same universe of mine. I probably have dug myself loopholes, but I did try to piece some connections in with this story.
I also post full stories because I do not trust myself to finish something otherwise. I can't tell you how many times I rework, delete, and add scenes in a story before I'm happy with the flow.
Certain parts of this story does get dragged out because, in my eyes, these characters are too stubborn to get together that easily.
Crazy OOC, some drama, lots of tension because that's actually really fun to write, and just plain fluff because it's what I do.
The intent had been simple enough: go in, verify that everything was in order, and leave.
Of course, nothing is ever really that easy.
Drake One had detected a weird energy signature in a building on the far outskirts of the city, so far in fact that it really shouldn't have been classified as city limits. Aside from a lonely highway and a motel sign down the road, the building was the only semblance of civilization to be had.
Nonetheless, the signature was large enough to concern Tanya, which meant it concerned Wildwing; and that meant a scouting mission.
Tensions were already high throughout the team, and for various reasons. Duke and Nosedive had had a huge argument during last night's game about a particular move that didn't go as planned, so the usual banter between the two had been replaced with either silence or accusatory one liners.
Tanya was angry with Nosedive because he, as teenagers are wont to do, had become impatient and managed to destroy a good portion of her lab because he felt the need to test his pucklauncher she'd been fixing.
She hadn't even had a chance to look at it yet, so the blocked puck issue it was having caused Nosedive's aim to be about three feet off. A nice divot was left in the far cabinet, along with about a year's salary worth of gadgets and rare finds from Lectric Land that had been housed inside.
Grin wasn't mad at any of the ducks, luckily, but he was in a foul mood thanks to Phil. The team's hockey manager had convinced him to sponsor a psychic and her "fortune" crystals, which of course ended up being a scam. Grin, however, had taken the sponsorship very seriously and had felt betrayed by the whole ordeal.
Phil had quickly realized that Grin was not a duck to swindle. The catastrophe that occurred at the attempted commercial filming last week had serendipitously kept Phil out of the Pond, which the entire team was thankful for, but it had also made Grin a walking steamroller. They had replaced about three punching bags thus far, and for the past two games Wildwing was forced to bench the large duck for fear of him critically injuring their opponents.
In lieu of his presence Phil had been sending a multitude of gifts to Grin, probably trying to get in the pacifist's good graces again.
Wildwing had been very tempted to ask Grin what exactly had occurred at that recording studio, but the large duck's attitude had kept the rest of the team pretty quiet on the subject. All Wildwing knew was that fire trucks were called and Grin was no longer allowed on the Universal Studio's backlot.
And, to add more fuel to the fire, Mallory and Wildwing had been riding a very tumultuous rapport the past few weeks, thanks to Wildwing's idiocy.
The captain sighed in present time, his track of thoughts paused as a rain of gunfire flew over his head. He was currently pressed against the backside of a bar, doing his best to not get shot by the barrage of robots that had tried to attack them unaware.
They weren't Hunter Drones, so this was most likely not Dragaunas' doing. When the ducks had entered the building they had discovered it to be a rather seedy strip joint, which in and of itself was not surprising.
They had seen their fair share of squalid establishments in their nearly six months on Earth. Puckworld was no stranger to the alcohol and hormone-driven facilities either, though back home the ducks had some much stronger mood altering beverages than their human counterparts.
The stripping aspect of it was eerily similar to the things Wildwing had seen back home, too, thanks to some interesting college years the captain had experienced. The lack of feathers and beak made it hard for him to find a human body attractive—despite their hockey fans' persistent attempts—but in terms of seduction through dancing, lingerie, body type . . . it was hard to deny the parallels and subsequent appreciation.
Which, now that he thought about it, was a part of what led to these turn of events.
"Wildwing!"
Presently the captain turned to his name, seeing Mallory crawl up next to him behind the bar. He had to feign ignorance at the fact that she smelled like a vat of stale beer, thanks to their earlier altercation with the exotic club's owner.
Of course, being drenched in beer and then having to evade the violent manlike robots also meant that every piece of dust and debris was beginning to stick to her as well. Some comedy might have been found in that if it weren't for the events leading up to the beer soak, and the fact that they were in a life or death situation at the moment.
Details, details.
"I see our way out," the redhead proclaimed once she made it safely next to Wildwing. She nodded to the other side of the building, where some stray fire had managed to tear down most of the drywall. While not completely open it was as beautiful of an exit as Wildwing had ever seen.
He agreed to her idea with his own nod, risking a glance around the edge of the bar wall to see the situation at hand. Grin and Nosedive were closer to the newly made exit, having hidden behind one of the dance stages when the gunfire erupted.
Unable to call out or signal to them, Wildwing opened his COM. "Dive, can you hear me?"
"Roger that, Bro!"
"Take that exit they made in the wall next to you—we'll cover you!"
"And what about you guys?!"
Wildwing glanced at Mallory, who watched him intently. "We got my shield—it should hold out enough to get us the hell out of here."
"Wing—"
"We don't got a choice on this one, Baby Bro. On the count of ten!" Wildwing ended the COM link, silently counting in his head and preparing to jump out.
Mallory was next to him, her puckblaster at the ready. "You sure your shield will hold?"
Wildwing gave her a facetious smile. "I guess we'll find out." Giving a more serious look he added, "Stay behind me, okay?"
Mallory frowned but gave a curt nod. Wildwing's silent countdown was over.
"Go!"
Activating the shield as he stood, Wildwing brought it up and aimed his wrist blaster, firing like crazy at anything that resembled a robot. He immediately began to feel the gunfire against the force shield, the torrent of metal jolting his arm like an earthquake.
Mallory had stood up and stayed behind him, only briefly turning and exposing herself to get a few rounds in. Her puckblaster was set to maximum damage and was currently leaving some sizeable holes in the robots she managed to hit.
Seconds felt like an eternity when a slowly fading force shield was the only thing between you and certain annihilation. He gradually made his way to the exit, keeping an eye on the robots to make sure they didn't try to change their positions to get a side shot in.
There was a loud explosion outside, beyond the wall, but Wildwing couldn't look to see. It felt like the whole building shook when it hit, though.
"They're out!" Mallory yelled behind him, having a better vantage point. "I'm hoping that was the Aerowing we heard outside!"
Wildwing grunted and took a large step back from a rather heavy onslaught of firing. He felt himself bump into Mallory and risked a glance back to make sure he hadn't knocked her over.
If he hadn't looked back at that precise moment he wouldn't have seen the ceiling cave in from above. With certain death overhead and many small deaths coming from the other end of the club, Wildwing's next actions were instinctual.
Keeping his shield facing the robots, Wildwing turned his whole body around and used his other arm to grab a surprised Mallory. He brought her to his chest and hunched down, the shield coming up at an angle to try and stop the falling debris from crushing them.
Not a second later Wildwing felt the heavy weight of the ceiling, even through the force shield, and cried out as the weight pushed him down to the ground. Mallory was partly under him and to his side, and did her best to stay under the force shield as chunks of pipe, wall, and duct came raining down on them.
On the bright side, Wildwing mused, there weren't any more bullets coming at them. He struggled as the weight on his force shield became almost unbearable, until a sudden heavy load caused his forearm to jerk back and slam into his head.
His vision faded quickly as he felt his body completely collapse.