Mess Hall
Duke kept mostly to himself, choosing to remain untouched by the gangs that formed in the prison. He didn't see any use in joining any one of the groups since it would only make him an enemy to someone else. Staying neutral was the way to go.
Unfortunately, this decision made him an instant target, especially once his identity was whispered among the prisoners.
He was sitting alone at an empty table in the large stone cold mess hall, thinking back to Mallory's visit. Even though he knew she was nothing but concerned, the look of forlornness annoyed him. She's taking pity-
He let out a long breath through his nose, one he had kept pent up.
"Hey."
He glanced up to see a duck with oddly shaped bald patches all over him. It took a moment for Duke to realize they were like tattoos since real tattoos like what the humans had had didn't work on ducks with feathers.
There was a group of four other ducks, all thick muscled, standing behind the leader.
"You need to take a walk bud, this is our table."
Duke ignored the leader, this can't be happening to me.
"Did you hear me?"
All I want is to be alone.
"Hey, I'm talking to you." The duck shoved his shoulder.
"Yeah, I heard ya," Duke ran his hand over the table. "It's funny-"
"What is?"
Duke looked back at the group. "I don't see any of your names on it. In fact, lo and behold, it's clean."
The main duck's face grew ominous, "are you making fun of me? I'm going to give you one more shot, get lost."
Duke gazed at him, unblinking, and then looked away.
The duck chortled obnoxiously, "oh you're in for it, you fucking moron."
Duke heard the duck's fist swinging through the air and sprang out of the way. Adrenaline zipping through his body, he moved too fast for the group to comprehend his sudden disappearance. He didn't like physical contact, preferring his sword to swinging fists; but he was missing his saber.
Watching the leader gape stupidly at his unoccupied seat, he snorted quietly to himself, then he whistled.
The duck whorled around and quickly became enraged when he spied Duke standing not so far away. The duck grabbed a random inmate's food tray and barreled forward. Duke saw the tray coming but was too slow to stop it as it slapped his head back. Stunned, he sank to his knees before sliding back and jumping over a table to escape the duck smashing the tray around in an effort to get him.
He found himself at the food counter where someone had carelessly left a carver knife within reach. He grabbed it in time for the duck to come at him again. He shoved the knife forward, aiming for the tray. It sliced easily through the plastic and became wedged. He yanked up, knowing there was enough leverage to get the would-be weapon away from the prisoner. He tossed the tray into the kitchen area and got kicked in the stomach for his troubles.
The duck spun and caught him in the chest, sending him back into the counter. By then the mess hall was in an uproar. The inmates had formed a solid wall, blocking off any chance of escape for Duke.
"Shit," he snarled. The only way to end this was to choke the guy into unconsciousness, since it didn't appear the guards were coming.
He shot to his feet and gave the duck a powerful frontal kick, sending him on to his ass; before he could recover, Duke grabbed him in a headlock, constricting the inmate's air supply.
Several shots rang out, the guards had arrived, making the inmates scatter. Duke didn't let go, not knowing whether the duck would continue to try and kill him, even with the guards so close.
"Let go of the inmate," a cold metal pressed to the middle of the back of Duke's head.
Breathing heavily, he obeyed, slowly letting go of the duck. As soon as the duck was free, Duke was pulled back roughly and flattened to the ground hard as he was handcuffed.
They left him in his cell, the shit-hole was even darker then when he had left it. Physically drained and aching from the beating he had sustained, he laid down on the bench-like bed and tried to sleep.
…...
Ducaine Prison looked even shittier than the last time Duke had been by the location. Entirely made out of concrete, it looked medieval compared to the slow construction nearby of high rise, grandiose buildings.
Duke had never graced the prison's doorstep in all his years in the Brotherhood as a prisoner, but had once broken out his former best friend Falcone after the idiot set off the alarm system in a museum.
He had a bad feeling about this, once he stepped through the doors, he was stuck in there with no way out. Maybe that was why Winglude jerked a black hood over his head, so Duke had no way of memorizing the halls and then be able to formulate an escape. Yes, no one was willing to take risks with Duke L'orange.
…...
North-East Ducaine City
Since returning to Puckworld, none of the Mighty Ducks felt an overwhelming urge to separate from each other. Three years on the planet Earth had bonded them in ways that were unexplained. Mallory sat alone in the room she shared with Tanya of a motel Wing had found, shadowed by darkness. The soldier in her told her to stop moping and to get her ass up, but the other part of her was too tired, too saddened. If she had been told five years ago she would fall for a ex-criminal and then be crushed when he was imprisoned; she would have told the person to go shit in a hat.
It didn't make sense why a city in such a wallow of manure would care enough to arrest a criminal two minutes after he landed an aircraft. Because it's Duke, she thought to herself. The law enforcement must have been having a contest to see who exactly could bring him in single-handedly.
"Mallory?" Tanya poked her head into the room. "Are you hungry?"
"Sure, I'll be out in a minute."
Tanya nodded and closed the door behind her. Quietly, Mallory got up and went to the bathroom. It surprised her how many objects she had from Earth after the ducks got settled in and she went through her stuff. She opened the medicine cabinet and reached to the top shelve for an unmarked box. Opening it, she pulled a pregnancy test out.
…...
0212am
Duke was awoken from a rather unsatisfying sleep to see a bright light shining into his eyes. He raised his hand to block the glare, upon doing so, he could see a guard.
"Get up."
He was led to a white-wash hall with doors lining it. Halfway down, he was put in a grey windowless room, the guard chained his hands tightly by his sides to the chair and then left him. The time dragged by as Duke sat staring at nothing but the clock on the wall. After what seemed like forever, it was an hour and then an hour and a half. As the hour hand stretched to the second hour, he began to get annoyed.
"If ya think I'm gonna sit here all night, you've got anotha thing comin'. It'll take me less than a minute to get out of these cuffs and about anotha minute to get out of this room." He was bluffing, there was no way out of the room, he was just relying on his infamous persona.
Within the seconds following his statement, the door behind him opened, granting Captain Winglude entrance.
"Empty threat you waste of space," he said as he sat across from Duke.
"Got ya in here, didn't it?"
Winglude grinned. "You think you're so slick, don'cha?" He leaned across the table so he was beak to beak with Duke, who didn't reply. "Well, reality check, you're not. You're here and you're my bitch...got that L'orange?"
"Do you have a point to this ridiculously late meeting?" Duke finally asked.
"I do." Winglude pulled out a device that looked like a human's palm pilot. "I thought you might wanna know exactly what Ducaine City is going to hang you for."
"Did I forget to pay off a ticket?"
Winglude gave a humorless laugh, "you're funny. You're charged with murder."
Duke's stomach flipped, "what?"
"That's right."
"Who did I supposedly murder?"
Winglude cracked his neck and then his fingers. "Let me spell it out to you. Twelve years ago, you know, one year before the Saurians. You were on one of your little jobs, stealing some damn thing. Remember whose house it was?"
Duke snorted, "it was twelve years ago. Enlighten me."
"Chief Weaver Redeye." At Duke's blank expression he added, "2115 Phulm Lane, North-East Ducaine City."
"I was nev-" Duke began and then paused.
…...
Before: Twelve Years ago
The thrill of the mission was making Duke shake with anticipation. The Brotherhood had set up a heist for which Falcone and himself were paired together. Apart of Duke's thrill was he nor Falcone knew who the victim of the heist would be,even though his foreign looking friend had bragged that he knew.
"What do you think old chum?" Falcone's eyes glittered maliciously as he and Duke made their way down an old abandoned alley.
Duke shrugged. "I think we should get in there as soon as possible."
…...
Fast-forward
Duke experienced only a slight shock when he realized it was the chief of the law enforcement for Ducaine City's house they were breaking into. I'm Duke L'orange, I can do this.
Creeping through the house, he had already told Falcone he'd be the one breaking into the safe, not Falcone, since the idiot just got out of prison for a botched heist.
Using a series of tools he had collected over the years, he disabled the alarm system within seconds and began working on the safe itself. Just as he was sure he was close, he heard footsteps on the stairs. He froze, listening.
"Hurry up!" Falcone hissed.
Duke stayed where he was, knowing if he moved, he would make noise. It's too close, he thought.
"Move," he commanded as loud as he could without talking normally. He stowed his tools back into his bag and took off for the back of the house.
"Who's there?" A scruffy voice demanded. Lights clicked on as Falcone and Duke found themselves in a spacious kitchen.
"The backdoor," Duke spun Falcone in the direction of the exit, but the large falcon had a different idea.
"Right chum," he ducked behind the island, fiddling with something.
"Falcone, what are you doing?" Duke hissed.
"I've got a gun and I know how to use it-" the owner of the house was about to enter the room they were in.
"Falcone-" Duke snapped, he stepped closer to the wide counter to see what his partner was doing. He found himself staring at an exposed gas pipe from the oven. "What are you doing?"
"Laying a distraction, old chum," Falcone slid across the counter to land lithely next to Duke.
"Freeze!" The owner found them, a gun in his hand pointed at them.
"Time to go?" Falcone suggested in question form. He shoved Duke into the door and pulled a lighter out of his boot. He clicked it.
Duke missed the lighter, but saw the owner's finger pull on the trigger of his gun. "No! Stop!"
There was a deafening explosion.
…...
Present
When he had woken up after being hurled against the door, which splintered from the explosion, and found himself laying on the deck of the house, he was in pain. Duke had never been in so much pain, even the loss of his left eye could never had measured up.
"It was an accident," he heard himself say. His voice sounded so far away. "A freak accident. I'll admit I was there, I tried to steal the item the guy had, but I didn't kill him. I barely even remember that day since I had a major concussion."
"And where is Falcone?" Winglude's question was laced with sarcasm.
Duke briefly thought of dimensional limbo, the endless dimension that the Mighty Duck's nemesis Dragaunus preferred and where Falcone had ultimately ended up in. "I don't know."
…...
North Ducaine City: Two days later
Mallory sat on a hard exam bed with nothing but a thin shift covering her. It had taken a few days to find a suitable doctor's office. Much of the business in Ducaine City had still yet to recuperate from the Saurian takeover. She had just been told she was a month pregnant. I can't believe it. What was she going to tell the others? Duke?
Slowly in a daze she got dressed.
…...
She didn't pay attention to where she was going as she walked, she was too deep in thought. I'll just have to hide it. The others can't know.
"Miss McMallard?"
She whorled around, ready to unleash any force necessary to the unfamiliar voice. It was the arresting officer of Duke, Captain Regla Winglude. "What do you want?"
The duck put his hands up as if to surrender. "Nothing more than to talk to a beautiful woman."
She tilted her head, "I'm with someone incase you didn't get that when you arrested him."
Winglude smirked, "I'm only doing what the City of Ducaine asked me to do. Put criminals behind bars."
She scoffed, "you know, my friends tell me that my first impressions of people leave a lot to be desired...but you know what?"
He took a step towards her, a patronizing grin on his face. "No, what?"
"I was right about you the first time around." She brushed by him.
He was quick to follow her through the crowd. "And that is?"
She halted, glaring at him. "An insecure, full of himself, sardonic POS."
He narrowed his eyes, "POS?"
"Piece of shit." She kept walking.
"Really is that the best you can do?" He goaded just as she passed a building with a door that swung open, hitting him hard enough to throw him to the ground.
She paused, not knowing whether to leave him there or help him. She opted to not help him and rather watched him pick himself up off the ground.
"At least let me buy you a drink," he opened the door that had hit him for her.
"No."
"Come on...we'll talk about your boyfriend."
She swallowed and made up her mind. "Okay, on one condition."
"Anything."
"You let me see him without that stupid rule of no contact."
Winglude made a face, "ehh, rules are rules McMallard."
"Fine, see you around," she started to walk off.
"Okay, okay...come back. I'll let you see your boyfriend."
…...
Later
From the hold Mallory had on him, it didn't appear she would let go anytime soon. Duke was confused on the sudden different arrangements, such as the physical contact, and wanted to ask, but remained silent for fear of ruining the moment.
"I heard you got into a fight," she intoned near his ear.
"Yeah, I did.
She pulled away, but still held onto him. "You used a knife?"
Duke looked away, "it wasn't like that. I wasn't planning on using it on him, I had to get the tray he was using away. He attacked first."
She let go and sat down at the detention room table and changed the subject. "The next time I come, I'll bring the others."
Duke also sat and nodded. Sure."
Mallory studied him in a peculiar manner. "Have you been eating?"
The question caught him off guard, "Have I been-? Yeah, of course I have." His answer was too quick, she didn't buy it.
She took his hand and felt the small bones that were clearly visible. "When was the last time you ate?"
…...
Winglude was interrupted from his conference call on the communicator to the sound of a fist pounding on his door. "Hold on, I'll call you back." He got up and opened the door. "I knew you couldn't resist me, McMallard."
Mallory was standing there, her annoyed expression as fiery as her red hair. "They are not feeding him."
Winglude snorted, "and you want me to do what? Wave my magic wand?"
"Don't insult me by making light of this issue."
He grew somber. "He's a prisoner McMallard, did you honestly think every one of them get a full stomach each night?"
"Yeah well, his stomach hasn't been properly filled in about a week." She took a step forward, getting in his face. "Tell me Captain, is that normal? Or is this just another one of those I'll-teach-you-Duke-L'orange-type moments."
He sighed. "If you see me as the bad guy, why do you keep coming to me?"
His question sent an expression of shock across her face. "I-don't come...to-you..." She trailed off. "Forget it." She stalked off down the hall.
Amused, he shut his door. "You'll come back. You'll come back," he said as he redialed for his conference.
