Author's Note: G'day mates. Sorry I haven't been responding to comments lately, but I thought I might make it up to you all through a quick update:

1. I might be planning an epilogue story in the near future. Emphasis on Might, depends on who would be interested.

2. For those of you who have a DeviantArt page, don't worry I'll post the completed story in full.

3. Guess Who's Here.


Five Days Ago:

The meeting between the Dukes of Australia began to take place. Various creatures from across the continent; the Duke of Western Australia sat on his seat holding a wine glass, as rigid as an iceberg. The Duke of Van Damien's Land seated with two concubines by his side. The Duke of the Northern Territories, feasting on a leg of Lamb. The Duke of Victoria, his seat strangely absent. And finally, the Duke of New Zealand, holding a clavicle as he began the meeting. "Counts o' Australia," the Kiwi said in a high-pitched voice as he saw the Queen and Prince walk in to the meeting, "The Third Annual Colonial Trade Negotiations are now in session!" He bowed respectfully before the queen. "Your majesty, would you care to have the first word?" The queen nodded solemnly before she began to speak. "Members of the Australian Parliament. It has been several years since the Eureka Incident took place in the Heart of this country, almost tearing one of the British Empire's youngest and proudest colonial lands asunder. For ten years, twice we have all discussed the Future of not only this country, but of the Empire as a whole. Duke Norman, of Van Damien's Land." The womanizing Duke looked toward his queen before he began speaking. "I sadly wish to report that due to the resurgence of strikes in the Workplace, progress on monitoring the deposit of Salt has been ground to a halt, as of recently, Marm." The queen raised an eyebrow. "How long have these strikes been interfering with trade routes between Your land and the Zealander Isles?" "About five weeks, Marm." The queen sat back in her throne. "I see. Do you know what could have caused these outbreaks of violence?" The Duke of New South Wales began to speak up. "Milady, it is my belief that the populace are growing disobedient. Because of these…bushrangers they worship." "Bushrangers?" Albert asked, only for the brawny duke to nod solemnly. "Aye. Outlaws, murderers, thieves all of them. And the people worship them like patron saints. They have forgotten the strong arm of the British Empire, and see these outlaws as champions, as freedom fighters." Queen Victoria casted her gaze over to the crocodile before speaking. "Sir Duke, perhaps you might have a solution, given how you feel so strongly against these outlaws." The crocodile gave a vicious smile before replying, "I encountered one in these halls, majesty. And this was what he dropped." All of a sudden, the Duke laid the stolen invitation on the table. Queen Victoria asked, "And what of this outlaw? Where is he now?" The crocodile laid back in his seat, lying through his teeth. "I have dealt with him, your majesty. Though I suggest that given a mere thief has found his way inside these halls, immediate action should be required. This empire will tolerate civil disobedience no longer, milady. For when these Bushrangers are hung, only then will our little secret circle be kept secret from the common folk and only then will our Empire prosper." One by one, the Dukes voiced their opinion. "An outrage! You propose slavery and intimidation of the British people!" "I for one agree with the Duke of New South Wales. Action is needed!" "But think of the cost!" "All an end to justify the means, and that means is the safety of the British Public!" Casually, the Duke left the meeting room, letting the lesser Dukes argue among themselves.

Shortly, the Duke of New South Wales made his way out of the royal building before he stopped near an abandoned well. He pushed a block near the well, and it opened up, revealing a spiral staircase. Carefully watching his own back, the Duke then made his way down the staircase, in his coat-pocket Kelley's calling card. Finally, he reached a dungeon door, before he opened the lock. Upon reaching another door, a gravelly voice asked him a cryptic question. "What is the Name of the Sun?" Only for the duke to clear his throat, just before answering. "Atenhotep be the Sun's name." Suddenly, the metal door in front of the crocodile opened up, revealing a creature enveloped in shadows. "Al-Kruhuk, state thy reason why you have disturbed my slumber." The duke answered, bowing respectfully before the creature in the shadows. "Almighty Child of Atenhotep, I have come to deliver a warning." The voice spoke again, a yellow eye glaring from the creature's bowels. "Speak, Al-Kruhuk." Al-Kruhuk replied. "The shipwreck off Victoria's coast has failed." The eye glowed angrily, as the creature shouted. "What is this sorcery?!" Al-Kruhuk maintained his stone glare. "One of the downed ship's occupants has survived. His name be MacCooper. Kelley MacCooper. Son of the wench who retreated from the Scottish Isles." The eye glowed once more, revealing a silver talon. "Cooper….the accursed ringtail legacy still continues….where is this survivor?" "He lies battered and bruised outside these city walls, but I have his calling card." Suddenly, the talon swiped the card away from Al-Kruhuk's hand. "You incompetent fool! All like his kind must be purged! If he recovers his strength, it will only be a matter of time before he finds the Truth." The calling card was reduced to a crumpled mess as the talon closed itself. "He must not leave this island….alive." As shreds of paper fell to the ground, the voice began to laugh, echoing into the night.


slycooper11: Thank you for the compliment, I'll see if I can work harder.

ForeverFreelancer: You are very welcome. And I am flattered, especially coming from a talented writer such as yourself.