An Author's Note: I don't know if the Negaverse version of Ducktales qualifies as a crossover, but it doesn't hurt to mention the fact that I don't own Ducktales either. And, although no characters from that series appear, I do mention a certain city from Talespin here. I don't own Talespin. I doubt I could lay claim to Nega-Ducktales either, since Disney came up with the Negaverse as well. Or this Negaverse at least.
Also, I don't recall anyone ever charting the exact geography between Duckburg and St. Canard. So, as usual, I am going to make stuff up. I know I warned about this habit of mine before, but for some reason it keeps surprising and upsetting people.
Enjoy.
Chapter Three
Attack of the Metallic Menace
The lands between Duckburg and St. Canard were rather inhospitable and dangerous, much like the two port cities themselves. Though, between the two it could be said that Duckburg was worse. The fact that the place had been founded by pirates probably contributed to its bad reputation. However, the worst thing that had ever come from Duckburg these days was the occasional drug smuggler and the almost periodical assaults on one Scrooge McDuck's famed Money Bastion, which was said to be more heavily, defended then Fort Knox, and that wasn't a joke. McDuck was supposedly a kindly man, but he didn't skimp on the defenses for his Bastion.
And indeed, it was that tenacity, that desire to protect the money in his Bastion, which created the greatest disaster in history. A disaster not of nature, but of man. A creature so horrible, so terrifying, that all fled in fear.
Gizmoduck.
The truck stop was situated just a few miles outside St. Canard, and was famous for two things: drunken locals and truck drivers, and bacteria inducing fries that only a fool would approach. Country music played something about a dog, a girl, a truck and then jail. Or maybe it was the other way around. The truck stop was populated with big, tough canines and ducks, and the occasional rodent and a few weasels hanging around drinking beer and trying to look intimidating. A pair of muscle-bound truckers were having an arm wrestling contest, with a few of their fellows cheered them on. There was a dangerous, but somewhat friendly, atmosphere about the place, like an old west saloon in a spaghetti western.
This illusion was both reinforced and shattered at the same time, when the door blew open, and a shadow cast itself across the threshold. It didn't have a cowboy hat, but instead had a visor and helmet. The sound of a squeaking wheel, not that of spurs, echoed through the suddenly silent truck stop. The sound of a beef steak hitting the floor with a dull, greasy thump broke the silence. With the sound of fatty meat hitting the floor, the wheel squeaked, and the individual rolled himself into the truck stop.
The metal suit the duck wore was steel grey, dusty and dinged with wear and damage. It could have at one point been white, but lack of general upkeep had given it a haggard, dirty appearance. The ends of the gauntlets and the area around the wheel were red with rust and grim. Still, despite the overall bad appearance of the suite, several parts of it were shining and obviously greased or oiled. These patches glittering in the sunlight menacingly and it didn't take much imagination to figure out why these spots were the only once taken care of. In the middle of the suit's stomach was a broken television set, and poking out of that set was a hastily installed gun. Once there might have been a symbol on the figure's chest, but the paint had flecked away so much that it really only resembled a smear of red. It wasn't hard to imagine that red as blood.
The truckers, almost all of whom looked like they could take blows from forklifts, gave out a series of rather girly screams. One of the weasels didn't even bother to scream at first, but leaped through the thick glass of a window and scrambled into the sunset, leaving a weasel sized hole in the window. His screams of fear echoed through the air.
The other truckers looked like they were about to follow their compatriot, when the figure's suit suddenly bristled with an assortment of guns, missiles and even a few blades.
"Move and you all are dead. I'm not joking." The voice of the duck was low and deep. It was filled with menace and cruelty, and not a shred of any other type of emotion at all. "You all know who I am."
"Gi-gi-gizmoduck." Someone stammered. Gizmoduck grinned, bearing his teeth.
"Yes." He hissed. "Gizmoduck." There was a low chuckle from the duck. He seemed amused by their fear. "Now, if you answer my question, I might just let this place stand…or not. I'm in a destructive mood today." His smile broadened as the truckers cowered from him. "Now, where is Scrooge McDuck?"
The truckers glanced at each other, puzzled and even more afraid. "McDuck?"
Gizmoduck hissed and shot off a small missile, which erupted into the middle of a table, reducing it to ash. "Yes! Him! Have you been living under a rock? The…" There was another chuckle, and Gizmoduck's tongue shot out, licking the sides of his beak with obvious relish as he spoke these next words. "Former richest duck in the world. I know he passed this way! He's the most recognizable person in the world! Did anyone see him?"
The truckers exchanged glances for a few minutes. Gizmoduck frowned and popped off another missile, which desegregated another table. Everyone jumped and cowered.
"St. Canard!" The owner screamed. "I remember serving an old duck a few days ago! He went towards St. Canard."
Gizmoduck smiled. "Ah. Good." He turned around and began to slowly wheel away. He looked back over his shoulder with a grin. "You have five minutes to run." He exited.
The truckers scrambled for the windows, the doors, and any other exit they could find. Gizmoduck watched them scramble from outside with a sick grin.
"Ah, five minutes, five seconds. Who can tell?" He fired his weapons indiscriminately at the truck stop. Within minutes it was reduced to ash, and without even stopping to check how many had survived, Gizmoduck turned and wheeled away, leaving behind many injured, and many more smoking and blackened, but alive. He really didn't care about the body count; so much as he wanted people to fear him.
The owner, who was among the singed, sighed. The insurance company didn't pay for Acts of Gizmo.
"We take you back to Gizmo Watch. I'm Tomas Lockjaw, brining you the most current in Gizmo activity. Indeed, the disaster seems to coming towards the fair city of St. Canard at a steady pace of sixty miles per hour coming in from the south, from Duckburg. Residents are urged to report to their nearest evacuation point for extraction. Disaster ready kits are available at all locations for any individuals who have forgotten them in their sheer panic." The reporter's grin was slightly strained as he put his papers down. "And…and…I can't take it anymore! I'm getting out of here before that lunatic gets here! Run! Run! Hide the children! Hide the children!" With that the reporter sped for the exit, papers flying in his wake.
The screen of the television jiggled up and down as the duck holding it jumped out through the broken window of the electronics store. He looked right to left at his fellow looters, who were also fleeing with their catches. He was just about to start up again when he came face to face with an electricity gun.
"Put. The television. Back." A very strained Megavolt said with a glare.
"You wouldn't shoot an innocent civilian!"
"I have been dealing with you thieves since nine in the morning. Yesterday. Right now, as far as I'm concerned you're a thief. Television. Back. Now."
"But-"
"Back. Now." Megavolt said, his whiskers beginning to spark.
"Yessir." The thief turned around and returned the tv." Megavolt sighed as the would be looter ran off. He was getting so sick of this.
"I am sorry, Megavolt. I should have gotten more people out here, but when they heard he was coming half the force decided they needed a vacation." The huge bull sighed heavily as he approached Megavolt.
"I understand Detective Bulba. I'm not looking forward to fighting Gizmoduck myself." Megavolt said. "But, I can't let him tear up my town!"
"And neither can I." Detective Bulba, one of the few cops in St. Canard who was both straight and courageous, nodded at Megavolt. "I need people, people that I don't have. Your friends are the only ones I can trust to stay here and put up any kind of resistance." Bulba's nostrils flared. "Of course, if the citizenry would stop looting for five seconds and evacuate…"
"Hey, Megs!" Quackerjack jumped in front of the two. To Megavolt's irritation the man didn't seem at all tired, not in the least, even though he had been awake as long as Megavolt had. "I think your refrigerator is running! Better go catch it!"
Megavolt turned and to his annoyance saw what appeared to be a refrigerator that had grown legs and was now trying to dart away. Sighing in frustration he gave the legs a gentle zap, which caused the duck who had been taking the refrigerator away to drop in on his own foot. The thief howled in pain and tried to scramble away. Megavolt knew that he should probably feel sorry for him, but he was just so tired…
Bulba shook his head and walked over to the refrigerator, lifting it with barely any evidence of effort. He gave the citizen who had been appropriating the appliance a steady disapproving look. Said citizen scurried away with a mild eep.
"Perhaps you should go get some sleep, Megavolt." Bulba was giving Megavolt a concerned look. "You shall be of no use to us if you are this tired."
"You know, I have to agree with him, Megs. You look ready to drop." Quackerjack said with a sympathetic look.
Megavolt rubbed his eyes. "If I take a break now I'll never wake up." He said.
Quackerjack look up at the sky and nodded. "True…but if you try to fight Gizmoduck like this…I don't like that idea."
Megavolt glared at his friend. "How the hell are you able to keep standing!"
"Coffee!" Quakerjack pulled out a cup of steaming coffee from…somewhere and thrust it towards Megavolt. The sheer coffee smell of it nearly floored Megavolt. For some reason he had always hated that smell, even though the rest of the world seemed to love it. "You want some? It's black."
"Er. No thanks." Megavolt noticed that Quackerjack's eyes were kind of twitching a bit. Why hadn't he noticed that before?
"I think that Quackerjack is right." Bulba said with a frown. "You need to get some rest. We can alert you when it's time to fight Gizmoduck."
"We could ask Likky to take time off from the evacuation help to keep an eye out for you! Nothing like water to the face to wake a person up…unless you happen to have coffee!" Quackerjack gulped down his coffee in one gulp. His eyes bugged and he looked like he was going to erupt right then and there.
Megavolt sighed and nodded. "Alright, I get your point. Are you going to be okay here?"
Bulba smiled. 'Yes. We still have until tomorrow. Gizmoduck shouldn't arrive until then."
"He might get here early! He's been known to do that! I know sometimes people treat him like a hurricane or a storm, but he's not! He's a living thing, and he may decide to do something unpredictable and show up early!"
"True, but that just means we need you rested, not on your last legs. We'll talk to the Liquidator and see if he can come with you to play alarm clock. You have to admit it's a better idea." Quackerjack said, his eyes bugging a big.
"I suppose so." Megavolt glared at Quackerjack. "You should come too."
"I should stay and help Bulba!" Quackerjack said. "I have coffee!" He pulled out another steaming cup. Where was he getting them? Megavolt almost didn't want to know.
Megavolt turned and started to trudge away. He almost tripped over his own feet. He really was tired. He turned his head and looked at Quackerjack. "You still own me ten bucks."
"I don't! I won that bet!"
"You won that last battle at 12:02 in the morning, Quackerjack. You lost."
"Okay, even if we were going by that time schedule, and you never said that was the cutoff time, by the way, I still won because your watch is five minutes fast!" Quackerjack objected.
"Whatever, this isn't over but I need to get to sleep. Tell Likky to meet me at the greenhouse." With that Megavolt turned away and resumed his trudge back to the greenhouse.
Bulba watched the rat leave with a concerned expression. When Megavolt first arrived on the scene a few years ago the detective had been wary of him. He hadn't trusted the intentions of a strange electrified rodent, but after several cases that would have never been solved without Megavolt and his friends Bulba was willing to accept the group as a legitimate ally in the fight against crime in St. Canard, a fight that he had to admit that he might be losing. The fact that Gizmoduck was a day away from his city didn't help matters.
Bulba gave his remaining companion a concerned look. He wasn't sure if Quackerjack should have all that coffee. The weird man was starting to tweak out a bit. Still, Quackerjack was very effective as he bounced from looter to looter, bonking people on the head and stopping them for running off with the merchandise.
Bulba took out his radio and spoke into it. "Officer Hannigan. Come in."
"Y-y-yes? I h-h-h-hear you." Came the stuttering voice on the other end of the radio.
Bulba sighed. While he appreciated the fact that Hannigan was willing to stay around and help with the evacuations, he knew that Hannigan was a born coward. The poor man tried, but he was pretty much yellow to the core. Strange for a guy whose first name was Hammerhead, and the fact that goats were notoriously foul tempered people. "Is the Liquidator there?"
"Ye-yes. He and B-b-b-bu-"
"Bushroot." The plant duck apparently had snatched the radio from the stuttering officer. "We both are here helping load the boats with refugees."
"Megavolt was starting to fall asleep on his feet, so we sent him back to your greenhouse. We wanted to know if the Liquidator could go there and stand by in case Gizmoduck comes early."
"A-a-are you sure about that?" Hannigan's panicked voice came from the radio.
"I am positive, Hanny. I have faith that you can take care of it." As long as Gizmoduck doesn't show up.
"This! Is! Retarded! RETARDED!"
Negaduck's gang, even Launchpad, cowered from the enraged crime lord, who was even now pacing around his warehouse base, a look of rage on his face.
"I spend years building a gang. Building a reputation as the most violent, the worst, the most evil duck in the universe! And then some jerk with a metal suit was waltzes into the scene and everyone hails him as the next coming of the Anti-Christ! It…it…IT'S NOT FAIR!"
"He does have more missiles on him then most aircraft carriers." Launchpad ventured. "Trust me, I know."
"I don't care if he has a nuke!" Negaduck screamed. "No ninety pound weakling who needs to use a stupid cheating suit to cause chaos deserves the title of villain!"
"Megavolt has powers." Launchpad pointed out. He usually pointed this out when Negaduck started to rant about people with powers, which was often. Sometimes Launchpad thought that Negaduck must have power envy. Launchpad thought that it was immensely funny that the one other "super powered" being out there without actual powers was Quackerjack, and he would also point this out to Negaduck. Negaduck didn't appreciate the comparison. At all.
Negaduck turned and snorted. "Megavolt and the Four Fools are heroes! No villains! Get it through your thick skull, nimrod!" Negaduck jumped over to a case filled with weapons. He stared to pull out everything from missile launchers to switchblades. "Arm up, boys! We're going to war!" Negaducks' face was contorted in an expression that promised pain and terror for Gizmoduck! After all, when he showed up with his army of…as Negaduck was thinking this he turned and found that everyone had fled save Lamont and Launchpad, the latter of whom was staring at him stupidly.
"Oh you knobs! I'll kill all of you as soon as I'm done with Gizmoduck! Come on, you two. Who wants the Uzi?"
A few hours later, at the docks, Bushroot and Hannigan were hard at work, getting people loaded up into boats that would take them out of the city and hopefully to somewhere safe. Bushroot wasn't sure exactly where the boats were going, but he had heard the name Cape Suzette being mentioned a few times. He hoped it was where they were going. It was almost clear on the other end of the continent going south, in what was generally thought of as cat and bear country, due to the fact that so many felines and ursine people lived there. St. Canard and Duckburg, of course, was generally considered waterfowl country. It was like that all around America. Different regions were just more inclined towards different types of people.
Bushroot walked up and down the line of edgy people, making sure that they kept the line moving, and that they didn't panic and start a riot. A part of him really wished that the Liquidator was still here, and not Officer Hannigan. Hannigan was also keeping an eye out and helping, but he also kept trembling and shaking, and he made the citizens nervous.
"Lad, is this line going to be moving anytime soon?" Bushroot jumped a bit as a ratty old cane was thrust into his path by an elderly duck with a worried expression. Bushroot frowned. The old duck looked familiar. He sounded familiar as well, as if Bushroot had heard that Scottish accent before.
"Have a seen you before, you look familiar." Bushroot asked.
"Uh, do I?" The old duck chuckled nervously. "I doubt it lad. I think I would have remembered a plant duck. No offense meant, of course."
"Still, I might have met you before. What's your name?"
"Ah, my name's Ebenezer." The duck smiled. Bushroot frowned. He was pretty good at telling when he had been lied to, and this guy had just told him a lie.
"But-"Bushroot was about to pursue this further when screams erupted, and the line broke faster than anything Bushroot had ever seen. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. All Bushroot had to do was turn his head and see the figure of Gizmoduck looming in the distance.
"Hanny!" He bellowed at the officer, who looked so pale he might faint. "Get them to the ships and call Likky and Megs! I'll hold him off till then! Go!" To Bushroot's relief Hannigan did what he was told.
"What!" "Ebenezer" stared at Bushroot, who was proceeding towards Gizmoduck. "He'll kill you!"
Oh trust me, I know he can. But not as fast as he thinks. Bushroot thought, but he didn't say anything. He was focused on this new foe. He knew that he would probably survive any encounter with Gizmoduck, at least his chances were higher than anyone else, save perhaps for the Liquidator. After all, he could regrow from a single sprout. The problem would be holding Gizmoduck off while the people got on the boats. That was the big challenge here.
Gizmoduck rolled closer; the cold look on his face didn't change as he spotted Bushroot, who simply planted himself (figuratively) in the middle of the street, vines folded and a frown on his face.
"Stand aside, shrub." Gizmoduck said. "I have business on that pier."
Bushroot smiled. He nodded, and Gizmoduck obviously thought that this was agreement on his part, as he started to roll forwards. He didn't see the weeds that sprung from the concrete that lashed out and entangled his tread. Gizmoduck was yanked off his tread and flung backwards about thirty yards away. About five seconds later, however, Gizmoduck was back and looking a little on the steamed side. He pulled out several of his missiles and rocket launchers, and started to pepper the general area around Bushroot, obviously not caring what got broken or smashed.
Bushroot, unwilling to let missiles fall to close to the rapidly rushing mass of people even now heading to the boats behind him, charged forwards, slipping in behind Gizmoduck and lashing at the metal monster's armor with his vines. Of course it did nothing, but Gizmoduck turned to follow Bushroot as he dashed behind him, aiming the deadly guns away from the spectators. Bushroot commanded the weeds along the ground to grow even longer and tangle more at Gizmoduck's treads and up towards the haphazardly placed gun where the television monitor once stood. Gizmoduck frowned minutely and tugged at the weeds, ripping them out of the ground and tossing them away with a dismissive expression. He aimed his weapon collection at Bushroot and fired, causing more holes in the ground. Bushroot doged and leaped around, keeping away from the blows with ease. He knew that he was not much of a fighter. The Liquidator could use his water body to get close to people and defeat them in hand to hand combat, or attack long distance with water. Quackerjack had his toys, and his own strange, clowny, acrobatic style of fighting that was no martial art, but still effective enough. Megavolt's electricity was a powerful long distance power. However most of Bushroots plants were not as tough as water, due to their delicate stems and petals. His own strength was less than the others, because his own stems were almost as feeble as his "brothers". All this made Bushroot a much more defensive fighter then the others. Still, he knew that he could keep this guy on his toes long enough for reinforcements to arrive.
"Get away from him!"
Bushroot looked up. This…was not the reinforcements he was thinking about. It was the old duck, "Ebenezer", who had spoken. He was striding up to the battling pair; cane lifted aggressively, a scared, but determined, look on his face.
"No! Don't come any closer!" Bushroot shouted, but Gizmoduck was no longer focusing on him. Instead, all of Gizmoduck's attention was on the old duck. Gizmoduck turned and aimed a machine gun at the old duck, who stared at him defiantly.
"Finally, it ends now…boss." Gizmoduck smiled.
"No!" Bushroot leaped onto Gizmoduck's back and extended his vines, jerking the weapon upwards to shoot into the air. Gizmoduck hissed and reached around, grabbing Bushroot by a root. With a mighty fling he tossed the plant mutant right at the old duck. Bushroot managed to right himself before he could collide with "Ebenezer", and turned to face Gizmoduck.
Gizmoduck brought out a different weapon, a flamethrower. He aimed it at Bushroot. "Stand aside or I kill you as well."
"Never." Bushroot said.
"What sort of reward is worth your life?" Gizmoduck asked, as if puzzled.
"I'm a defender of this city. I won't let you kill anyone as long as I'm here." Bushroot snarled.
"Then you are a fool."
"And you don't learn!" Bushroot grinned as the weeds regrew at lashed themselves around the flamethrower. Gizmoduck jerked backward, but with a mighty heave the weeds broke off the flamethrower.
For the first time, Bushroot heard the legendary Gizmoduck raise his voice. The evil duck roared in anger and began to fire his missiles and rockets indiscriminately, all around the area. Buildings began to crack and crumble, and Bushroot knew that Gizmoduck was about to bring the entire block down on them.
Glancing back, Bushroot could see that the boats were now long gone. The captains must have really been booking it. He hadn't thought that they had spent that much time fighting. It was time to get out of here, him and the old duck. He wasn't going to leave the old guy here. He looked around and spotted a sewer drain.
"Hold on." Bushroot grabbed the old duck by the waist. He glared at Bushroot.
"Let me go you-"The old man started to whack Bushroot on the head, but Bushroot didn't pay attention. Gizmoduck was still having his little temper tantrum, and not paying attention to what was going on around him. Now was perfect.
Bushroot slipped over towards the drain and dragged the old duck down with him, into the sewers. Though he didn't' really like them, Bushroot and the others often used the sewers as an escape route. It was actually very handy, if fragrant. It almost just as bad here, though. The street itself was starting to crumble from all the shooting going on, which made the "roof" above them start to crack and crumble. All of a sudden the two could hear something crashing above them.
"Bless me bagpipes, what was that?" The old duck stopped bonking Bushroot as he shot a concerned look above him.
"I think that might have been a few buildings. Come on. We've got to get out of here before Gizmoduck thinks to look down here for us."
"Aye." The old duck nodded. "I'll go this way and you-"
"No way! You'll never find your way around here! It's like a maze! I know my way around here. I can get you out of the city. It's obvious that Gizmoduck is after you." Bushroot said.
"I don't want to talk about it!" The old duck hissed.
"I didn't ask you to talk about it. Let's get going." Bushroot said, as he stared to walk away. "Come on, we don't want to stay here."
"I can't give you anything!" The old duck argued. "Don't you understand!"
"I don't want anything except to help you." Bushroot said.
"But…why?"
Bushroot smiled. "I don't care about rewards. That's not why I'm a hero."
"There aren't any heroes in this world." The old duck shook his cane in anger. "I've traveled this entire world, lad, and I've never met a single hero!"
"You've met one now. Let's go." Bushroot said as he turned. To his relief, the old duck followed him.
"Come one, Megs! We have to reach the docks!"
"I know! I know! I never should have taken that nap!" Megavolt shouted at the Liquidator, who was tidal waving across the street. "I keep having weird dreams about a purple Negaduck!"
"You dream in color?" The Liquidator asked.
"Doesn't everybody?"
"I don't."
"Huh, that's weird." Megavolt said.
"Not as weird as a purple Negaduck. I can't imagine it. He'd be to…monochrome." The Liquidator said.
"Yeah, and he was really egotistical." Megavolt said.
"So, no different then?" The Liquidator smiled.
"Huh, I guess not." Megavolt nodded. "Oh, speak of the demon."
The Liquidator turned his head and growled. There was Negaduck, turning a corner in front of them, a machine gun in hand. He was riding his specially build motorbike, with Launchpad and Lamont following behind on their own, normal bikes. The two thugs were also armed to the teeth.
"They're going the same way we are."
"Bet it's not to pick up fresh anchovies." Megavolt said grimly. "Come on, this just got even more serious."
"Why so serious?" From almost literally nowhere, Quackerjack bounced into view, riding his pogo stick from a side street. Megavolt nearly fell off his telephone line.
"How did you get here so fast?"
"Coooffeee!"
"Okay, I think we need to revoke your coffee privileges." Megavolt said. He really didn't like the way Quackerjack's eyes were glazing over. "And did you bring my ten bucks!"
"I don't owe you a cent!" Quackerjack snarled. "Besides, I spent all my money on coffee."
"I really, really wish you two would give this up." The Liquidator grumbled.
"I will once he gives me my money!" Megavolt retorted.
"You're worse than a creditor! At least creditors are honest!" Quackerjack shouted at Megavolt.
"I am so glad I was an only child." The Liquidator muttered.
About ten minutes after his initial temper tantrum, Gizmoduck finally realized that his victims were gone. He frowned in anger. He could tell from the lack of blood smears that his quarry was gone.
With an annoyed expression Gizmoduck changed an attachment on his helmet visor. He couldn't see anything from the plant freak, but he could detect the heat signatures from his real prey. They led down into the sewers. Very well. If the old fool wanted to die in filth, so be it.
He was about to go after them, when the screech of motorcycle wheels alerted him to more people. He turned and grimaced.
"Oh, it's you." Gizmoduck stared at Negaduck as the crime lord glared at him. "And you, Launchpad. How have you been?"
Launchpad shrugged. "Can't complain."
Gizmoduck nodded. "Good." He looked at Negaduck. "What do you want?" The metal menace's dismissive tone enraged Negaduck.
"You're in my town, tin can!" Negaduck snarled. "I'm the only one who gets to smash it!"
Gizmoduck seemed unmoved by the other's anger. "I have only one goal here. Once I am done I shall leave."
"Oh, you'll leave. AS A PAPERWEIGHT!" Negaduck roared and opened fire. Gizmoduck frowned in irritation and retaliated, firing his own weapons at the three gang members, who scattered. Even Negaduck scattered, but he didn't stop firing at Gizmoduck as he dodged the invader's shots. Negaduck leaped behind a fallen dumpster and continued to trade shots with Gizmoduck. His two companions also fond refuge, Launchpad under a car and Lamont behind a building, from those two places they also shot at Gizmoduck. Gizmoduck, however, seemed to shrug off all their blows. He didn't appear at all fazed by any of this.
At this point Megavolt, the Liquidator and Quackerjack arrived. The trio stared at the scene before them, not sure what to do.
"Umm, is Negaduck fighting Gizmoduck for us?" The Liquidator asked.
"Sure looks like it." Megavolt said.
"Whose side does that make us on?" Quackerjack asked.
"Neither." Megavolt said flatly. "We wait and see what happens, then take out the remaining villain. We could take them both out at once! Put them both away for life!"
Unfortunately for everyone, Megavolt had spoken to loudly. Launchpad heard him. Snarling to himself, the henchman slipped over to Negaduck's dumpster and whispered what he had heard to Negaduck who was now enraged. The crime lord turned to the heroes and bellowed.
"You losers! I'll kill you all for that! Do you really think I'm stupid enough to let you pull that?" Negaduck turned to Gizmoduck. "You hear that, tin can! He's trying to play us both!"
Gizmoduck stopped attacking and frowned at Megavolt. In response to this challenge he aimed his weapons at the group of three heroes. "Wipe them off the face of the earth, and then we can finish our…discussion."
"I was thinking the same thing." Negaduck smiled.
"Nice going, Megavolt." Quackerjack said. Megavolt gulped.
Negaduck grinned and turned his guns at the three, and his two henchmen followed his actions. Quackerjack jumped out of the way and ducked behind a building, similar to Lamont's position on the field. He huddled behind his makeshift cover and began to pull out some toy soldiers, which he wound up and sent against the enemies. The small toys, though resilient, didn't do much damage to the criminals. Megavolt had sought cover from the other direction, also behind a building. He fired off electrical bursts from this area, most of which missed. The Liquidator was the only one who didn't seek cover. Instead, he formed tidal wave after tidal wave, and attempted to wash Negaduck and his compatriots from their own cover. Unfortunately they stuck like burrs, holding on to the nearest available solid item, keeping themselves from moving.
Gizmoduck watched the exchange with a cold, detached expression. He turned his gaze to the nearest storm drain. Silently for one made of metal, he snuck over to the drain and slipped in. Once there he activated his heat seeking function on his visor. He grinned when he saw the heat signatures left behind.
Back to the hunt.
Bushroot could feel "Ebenezer" gazing at him with open curiosity. The old man seemed so puzzled that Bushroot would want to help someone just out the kindness of his own heart. Alright, so it was true that most people these days didn't help each other, as a rule. Sure there were only a few that were openly criminals, but it was a well known fact that in places like St. Canard a person could be dying on the street and no one would lift a finger to help. It was worse in Duckburg, or so Bushroot had heard.
"Wait! Stop!" The old duck suddenly stopped and help up a hand. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Bushroot asked, a bit startled.
"There's something wrong." His companion snarled. His eyes were narrowed in aggression and suspicion.
"I don't-ack!" Bushroot shouted as, all at once, a huge oversized wild sewer rat leaped from the water and gripped his arm in its mouth. It's narrowed; furry face was nothing like his friend Megavolt's. It was a wild animal, with not a wit of intelligence to it. It was also way too large for its kind, the size of a small terrier. It had webbed feet, a third eye in the middle of its forehead, and a spike sprouting from its back. Bushroot hissed and batted the thing away. It fell back into the slimy waters of the sewers, but more of the mutated things leaped up at them, attempting to take a bite.
Bushroot began to bat with disgusted fury. His eyes turned to make sure that "Ebenezer was okay, but the old man seemed to be holding his own against the mutants, striking them again and again with his cane like a madman. Bushroot was impressed. The old duck was clearly no stranger to danger, and he used the cane like an old pro. One of the mutants however got past "Ebenezer's" cane and latched itself on his arm. Bushroot turned and punched the mutant of the snout. The thing jerked in surprise, and Bushroot tossed it back into the water.
Finally it seemed like the things had been pushed back. "Ebenezer" hissed and stared at the blood coming from his wounded arm. Bushroot walked over and tried to gently grab the arm.
"Here, let me see it." Bushroot said gently, but the old duck jerked away with a snarl. "Come on." Bushroot said. "I just want to help you."
"Ebenezer" stared at Bushroot, his meeting the plant ducks as if he was trying to read Bushroot's mind. Bushroot smiled gently at "Ebenezer". Perhaps it was that gentle, kind smile. Perhaps it was the fact that Bushroot was a naturally charismatic person, but "Ebenezer's" frown disappeared and he nodded sadly.
"Oh very well." He said.
Bushroot smiled and examined the bite. It was deep and nasty, and Bushroot had a feeling that if it was not treated then it might be infected. "I think you need a hospital."
"Oh poppycock!" The other snarled and shook his cane. "I don't have time for that, lad. If we don't hurry then Gizmoduck will be on us! I won't have to worry about a little infected bite if that maniac puts a bullet in me head!"
"True…hold on." Bushroot concentrated, and thought of the various plants that were around them. At his call a small green, fresh onion sprout wiggled itself from above them, and slithered down to pop in above their heads. Bushroot reached up and plucked it. He mushed up the sprouts. The volunteer plant had known exactly what Bushroot had wanted from it, and didn't mind sacrificing a few healing sprouts to the cause. Bushroot dropped the onion mush on the wound "There, that will help keep the infection down. I still think you should go to a hospital after this."
"Alright, alright." The old man rolled his eyes. "Honestly, you're worse than me boys." The man turned and started to continue to walk. Bushroot hurried to keep up.
"You have sons?" He asked.
"Oh no. Never married. To busy. But I have nephews. Those are…were me boys." The old man said with a fixed expression. Then the expression softened as he thought of his nephews. "Oh, they're a fine trio! Kind and generous, but plenty of courage and tenacity. Real go getters! I just wish that…" The old man shook his head.
"My friend the Liquidator has a son. He talks about him much the same way you do." Bushroot said.
"Ah, a hero with a son?" The old man chuckled. "I bet they have all kinds of adventures!"
Bushroot frowned. "Actually, Hank was kidnapped. Likky has been spending his time trying to find him."
"Oh…" The other hung his head and shook it. "I know how he feels…"
"We'll find Hank some day, then all of us will help Likky rescue him!"
"You'd do that, just because this Liquidator is your friend?"
"I'd do it even if the Liquidator was my worst enemy. I can't turn away a person in trouble, no matter who or what they are." Bushroot said.
"Ebenezer" shook his head. "I've never meet anyone like you. No one."
"I am accused of being way too soft, Ebenezer." Bushroot said with a grin.
"…I'm afraid I haven't been that honest with you."
"Yeah, I figured Ebenezer isn't you real name." Bushroot said.
"What? And you still helped me?" The old man's eyes were wide.
"It wasn't my business. I don't care who you are. You needed my help." Why did Bushroot keep have to repeat himself like this?
A long silence, then: "I am Scrooge McDuck."
"Really?" Bushroot gazed at Scrooge with wide eyes. "The richest duck in the world?"
"Not anymore." Scrooge said bitterly. "It's all that blasted Gizmoduck's fault!"
"What happened?"
"I was always looking for a new way to protect me Money Bastion. There were always unscrupulous hoods trying to break into it, like that petty crook Launchpad McQuack and Gyro Gearloose. So, when my accountant, Fenton Crackshell, showed up with that Gizmosuite of his I thought I had the perfect security guard!" Scrooge shook his head. "I should have know that brownnosing little runt was up to no good, but he was always so pathetic with his begging and his cringing that I just couldn't help but feel sorry for him! Well, it turned out he was actually working with Gearloose and McQuack. He stole all the money out of me Bastion, and even got into my investments and my stocks. Everything!" Scrooge shook his cane in anger. "I could have taken it. I still carry a bit of traveling money with me in my wallet. A few million or so." Bushroot snorted. "I could have simply started over. I made money once before by being tougher and smarter than anyone and I always did it square! But then…Gizmoduck decided it wasn't enough. Bad enough he had robbed me, but then he took away what I loved more than all the money in the world."
"Your family." Bushroot said. It was a familiar story to him.
"Aye. He attacked me beloved nephews! They might have died, save for Magica DeSpell. I always thought she was just a weird little woman who was for some reason fixated on me Number One Dime, but it turns out she was a real witch! She saved Huey, Dewy and Louie with her magic before Gizmoduck could finish them off. But by then the damage was already done. Me boys ended up in the hospital. They lived, but CPS took them away from me. Said I was an unfit guardian, that I was putting them in danger! Bah! I loved those boys! I would never put them into harm's way! Now they're gone…lost in the foster system."
Bushroot gazed at Scrooge in sympathy. "You'll get them back! I'm sure of it!"
"Your endless optimism is rather annoying." Scrooge grinned wryly.
"Why is Gizmoduck after you, anyway?" Bushroot asked. "If it was just for your money…"
"Aye, that's the puzzle. He robbed me, but for some reason he still wants to kill me! I haven't figured out why. But…he's changed. He was always a bit of a wormy man, but he wasn't a killer. It was like getting that suit did something to him. He's grown so cold it's like he a stranger me." Scrooge said with a look of puzzlement. Then he looked around the tunnel they were in. "Is it just me, or is this sewer starting to look a little more like a cave then a sewer."
"Yeah, I figured it might do that." Bushroot said. "You see, St. Canard is build under a cavern of manmade sewage tunnels, and they are right next to a natural cavern system under the forest. At some point they started to mix in with the cavern. Thankfully the underground river doesn't go near the sewage, so whatever mutated those rats shouldn't affect the water." Bushroot pointed to a small hole in the wall. "There's an entrance to the cavern part."
"How wonderful." Scrooge said ruefully.
"One of my friend's lairs is near here, in the caves. If we can get there it should be safe. At very least we'll have a way to contact my friends. Get some reinforcements." Bushroot said.
"Well, led on…er, what was your name again? I must have missed it somewhere."
"Bushroot."
"Okay, led the way Bushroot." Scrooge nodded. Bushroot nodded and started forwards into the entrance, keeping his eyes on Scrooge to make sure he was alright as they exited the reasonably smooth sewage pathways and into the rockier, natural floor of the caves. He was a bit scared that too much exertion would tire Scrooge out. But Scrooge kept trucking along, steady as a rock. In fact, if Bushroot was any judge, Scrooge was almost in better shape than him, and the entire plant duck thing had done wonders for Bushroot's endurance. Neither of them had any problems seeing, because even here Quackerjack had rigged the place with dim, but steady lights, all powered by generators. It wasn't exactly the best arrangement, but it worked.
"Have you done this before?" Bushroot asked.
"The sewer part? No. The cave part, oh yes. I used to travel the world looking for treasure to add to me Bastion. Just me and me nephews, traveling and discovering and camping…ah it was the best time of me life." Scrooge said with a wistful smile.
"That's so amazing!" Bushroot said as he studied the big cavern they had just stepped into. It was about the size of a football field, covered with stalactites and stalagmites with a huge hole in the middle that Quackerjack said was about fifty feet down. He said they really should stay away from it, as the sides of it were slippery and you couldn't get a grip if you fell.
Scrooge laughed. "This from a guy who claims to be a superhero!"
"Ah, I'm just your average mutant trying to do what's right." To Bushroot's pleasure that got a laugh out of Scrooge.
"You know, I'm almost glad I came. This reminds me so much of the good times." Scrooge said.
"It's fitting then, that you will die here Scrooge."
"Gizmoduck!" The pair startled at almost the exact same moment. The two of them turned and looked behind them. There, standing in the path where they had just come from, was Gizmoduck. His dark metal armor blinded in with the natural dimness of the caves. In fact he almost looked like nothing more than a distorted, floating beak and single glowing visor. It made him look unearthly, like a monster from hell.
"Now, you both die. I'm sick of chasing you around the country, Scrooge. Now we finish it." Gizmoduck said.
"You'll have to get past me first." Bushroot said calmly.
"Very well." Gizmoduck aimed his weapon at the two of them. "Then you die together."
"Why are you doing this, Fenton?" Scrooge said. "I paid you well! I trusted you! I let you me own house and let you play with me boys! How could you do this?"
Gizmoduck paused. He tilted his head to one side, as if confused. Then his head straightened and he shook his head. He gave Scrooge no answer, but instead he rolled forwards, eager for the kill. Bushroot snarled and stepped in between the two, leaf hands clenched in anger.
Gizmoduck wasted no more words. Instead he struck, shooting bullets everywhere. Scrooge had the presence of mind to duck behind a stalagmite as the bullets whizzed by. He hated hiding while another took risks for him, but Bushroot had told him a bit about his power, and Scrooge now knew that the plant mutant was not going to be taken down that easily from mere bullets.
However, as Bushroot was leaping to tackle the metal menace, Gizmoduck suddenly pulled out a second flamethrower from his person as blasted Bushroot with it. Bushroot bent at the side, avoiding most of the flames, one vine arm was reduced to ash, and the flames scorched his head and body. He gasped at the immense pain, pain he had never felt before. His sap felt like it had just been boiled. It was horrible. He missed his target completely and skidded on the ground, gasping and rolling to douse the flames. It worked, but he was still burned.
Gizmoduck rolled forwards, flamethrower aimed.
Scrooge shook with rage at the sight. That young duck had saved him! Was willing to give his life for him! Scrooge couldn't stand by.
"Fenton!" Scrooge leapt from behind his refuge. "You found out a lot about me, lad, when you worked for me. But I found out just as much about you! Like this!" Scrooge took a deep breath, and then bellowed. "Blatherin Blatherskite!"
"No! You miserable old clod!" Gizmoduck screamed as the metal suit left him and circled around Scrooge, attaching to him with the swiftness of a tornado. Bushroot stared at him in astonishment.
"Blather…is that even a word?" He muttered as the suit went from its original owner to Scrooge, who rolled unsteadily on the single wheel. Bushroot studied the man that had been behind the suit. He was a small, almost unimposing duck, but the look in Fenton Crackshell's eyes was as cold and emotionless as Gizmoduck's voice had been. It was a creepy, almost downright sociopathic expression, and it chilled Bushroot more than Negaduck's sheer rage had ever accomplished. You could say a lot of things about Negaduck, but you could never say he lacked passion. This man, this Fenton Crackshell…there was no passion, only coldness.
"Hahahahaha! The mighty Gizmoduck has a weakness then? The secret to his suit is a simple stupid phrase!" Scrooge, Bushroot, and the newly revealed Fenton Crackshell turned their gaze to the entrance of the tunnel, where Negaduck now stood, as if summoned by Bushroot's mental comparison of the two villains. Gloating, the crime lord sneered at Fenton, who stared back at him with a detached look in his eyes. "Normally I'd play with weed whacker over there." Negaduck nodded at Bushroot, who was struggling to his roots. "But I think I'll just wipe you off the map instead!" Negaduck laughed and shot at Fenton, who backpedaled away. Fenton fell back, straight towards the deep pit.
"No…you…won't!" Bushroot bellowed and lengthened his remaining vine, wrapping it around Fenton's leg before he could fall over the edge and to his death. Negaduck roared and began to shoot blindly at the both of them. Bushroot stood and stepped between Fenton and Negaduck, taking bullet after bullet. It hurt, but in a much more vague way then the burning had done. Bullets simply don't kill plants. Bushroot had no more animal internal organs to damage.
"Bushroot! Up here!" Bushroot turned and looked at Scrooge, who was even now aiming one of the Gizmosuit's missiles at the ceiling. He fired, and a hole appeared, letting sweet daylight into the cave. Scrooge swooped down and fired the Gizmosuit rockets, as he grabbed Bushroot, yanking both him and Fenton into the sky. They could hear Negaduck roaring in anger as they shot towards the sky. A few more shots were fired, but by then to three of them had shot through the opening and were making their escape.
Scrooge managed to take them a few miles out of St. Canard before his tenuous hold on the Gizmosuit failed. He skidded to the ground with a grunt.
As soon as they had landed Fenton jumped up with a sneer. "Blatherin Blatherskite." He hissed, and the suit returned to him with a whirl. Bushroot was exhausted and in pain, but he once again put himself between Scrooge and Gizmoduck.
Gizmoduck looked from Scrooge to Bushroot, and it seemed to Bushroot that for the first time Gizmoduck actually saw him. Before that Gizmoduck seemed to dismiss him as an object or an obstacle, but now he was actually looking at the mutant before him.
"Why?" Gizmoduck asked in a flat, emotionless tone.
"Why what? Why did I save you? It was the right thing to do. It was the good thing to do. You're a murderer, a killer, but you're still a person. I couldn't let you die if there was something I could do to stop it."
"You are a fool. I could just as easily kill you both now." Gizmoduck said.
"And I will still fight you." Bushroot said.
"I don't understand. Why must you save people?" Gizmoduck said.
"I don't understand. Why do you kill people?" Bushroot threw Gizmoduck's words back at him.
For the longest time Gizmoduck stared at Scrooge, then at Bushroot. Finally, Gizmoduck turned and shook his head. "This once, you have saved my life. I would be stupid not to grant you life now. I shall pursue you no more, Scrooge. But know this. If I ever see either of you again, I shall kill. Pray that you never cross my path again. Either of you." With that Gizmoduck rolled swiftly away, and was gone.
For a long time Scrooge watched the place where Gizmoduck had vanished, then he turned and sighed. "I don't know what went so wrong with him."
"I don't know. I can't imagine living that way." Bushroot said. "What are you going to do now, Mr. McDuck?"
Scrooge's eyes went from sad to determined. "Why, I'll do what I've always done! I'll press on! The first thing I am going to do is change the codes to my Bastion and my bank accounts. Then I'll start rebuilding. There's a treasure I've heard of in Asia. I'll start there. I'll raise enough money to hire the best lawyers money can buy, and I'll get me boys back!" Scrooge nodded to himself, and then he turned to Bushroot. "I'm going to need people I can trust with me. What do you say, lad? Care to join me?"
Bushroot smiled at Scrooge. "I'm honored, but my team and my city needs me."
Scrooge smirked. "Aye, I thought you would say that! Still, the door to me Bastion is open to you and your friends. If you ever need a refuge, or anything, it will be there for you."
"Thanks."
"No, thank you, Bushroot. I'm glad I met you." Scrooge shook the plant mutant's remaining vine, and then lifted his cane with a light toss. "Goodbye for now, and good luck to you."
"Good luck, Mr. McDuck."
Scrooge laughed. "Oh, I don't need luck!" The old duck laughed as he marched away towards Duckburg. Bushroot smiled as he watched the old man. After a while the tired, but happy, plant mutant began to head home, hoping his friends would meet him there.
"You actually met Scrooge McDuck!" Quackerjack tugged the ends of his hat with an odd expression. "I can't believe it! I'm so jealous!"
Bushroot laughed as he settled down in his greenhouse, watching his three friends. After battling Negaduck in the street the three of them had been forced to retreat or be killed, and Negaduck had gone after Gizmoduck. They were just fixing to mount a search for Bushroot when he actually arrived at the greenhouse, burned and worse for wear, but alive. Megavolt, who had bags under his eyes and a strained expression that only the truly weary can obtain, had settled into a plant that had graciously formed itself into a chair for him. A few minutes after that had fallen into a weary sleep. No one had the heart to wake him.
"Quackerjack…why are you eyes rolling in different directions?" Bushroot asked as he watched his other friend. He was a bit concerned about both Megavolt and Quackerjack.
"Oh nothing, just the coffee!" Quackerjack pulled yet another cup out off his jacket and started to sip, but the Liquidator grabbed the cup and dumped it on the ground.
"Four out of five doctors agree that too much of this stuff can lead to severe health issues. In addition, glazed eyes and a twitching body is a clear indication that you have slept too little and drunk too much!"
"But I…I…oh man do I feel…ugh." To Bushroot's horror Quackerjack kind of slid forwards, falling into the watching petals of a friendly daisy who just could not let their little animal friend be hurt. The plants had become very fond of Quackerjack. Bushroot let out a sigh of relief when Quackerjack started to snore heavily.
"Let's keep quite. These two need their rest." Bushroot said.
"I think you do as well." The Liquidator smiled at Bushroot, who leaned back into a nice spot of sunlight and let the healing rays wash over his burns. He'd grow back, but right now all he wanted to do was sit here and absorb the sun.
With his family.
"Scroogie, please listen to me!"
"You, who let you in?" Scrooge glared at the sorceress, Magica DeSpell.
"You don't have a secretary anymore, Scroogie. I just walked in. I need to talk to you. I think you at least owe me that much." Magica looked at him with a concerned expression on her gentle face. Her raven pet, a creature that always seemed a bit too intelligent to Scrooge, also looked at him with what appeared to be concern.
"If it's about me Number One Dime, the answer is still no." Scrooge said. "I won't part with it for any amount in the world. I don't even know why you want it anyway!"
"Scroogie, there is…something coming. Something very very bad. That dime is my only hope."
"You're a witch, why do you need a dime?" Scrooge asked.
"It's not really about the dime, but who it's been around. It's…complicated."
"Well, I can't just give it away for nothing, especially not to just anyone!"
"How can I gain your trust?"
"Hmmm," Scrooge thought for a second, and then snapped his fingers. "I got just the thing."
"Come along, Magica! We got only a few miles to the treasure!" Scrooge grinned as he got to the top of the mountain. While she wasn't a replacement for his boys, she had been willing enough to go along with his idea, and was making an honest effort to earn his trust. He admired her willingness to work with him, even though he knew that she probably wouldn't do this normally.
He sighed and watched her climb up behind him, tired, but willing to go with him. He missed his boys, but Scrooge was still happy. He was back on track, and soon everything would be alright again. He would get his fortune and more importantly his boys back.
Scrooge turned back to the mountain, and started to climb again, eager for adventure.
A/N: Originally this chapter was supposed to be Bushroot vs. An Evil Logging Company, but the idea just wouldn't grow. Then it was going to be Bushroot vs. Evil Scrooge. I was all set and ready to make him an unscrupulous robber baron with Glomgold attributes. However, when I tried to imagine Scrooge as evil I just couldn't do it. Apparently there are some childhood memories that can't be trodden upon, and it turns out for me that's Scrooge. But, apparently I can still make Gizmoduck an evil monster, even though I kind of hated to do it, and loved it at the same time. Odd. I always did like Fenton/Gizmoduck, but for some reason it was easier to make him evil then Scrooge. I can justify it though, by saying that since Nega Gosalyn wasn't evil that must mean that the Negaverse isn't a complete mirror verse of the normal verse. I do have a theory for that, but it will be explained and expanded on much later.
Thinking of things that will be explained upon, so will the reason that Nega Magica, who is good in this by the way, needs the Number One Dime shall also be explained eventually.
I don't know why I made Quackerjack addicted to coffee in this. It just felt right.
The onion thing came from my mom, who is an RN. I fudged it a little bit, but she said that green onion would help draw out anything nasty from a rat bite. She also suggests willow bark and bread mold. Nice thoughts, huh?
I am by no means trying to present the CPS as an evil nephew stealing organization. At first the trio was going to be evil as well, but once again I just couldn't do it. So I kind of brushed them under the rug.
Don't know why I came up with a Money Bastion, it just sounded right for the Negaverse.
Next time: The Liquidator is seeking the location of his son, and in his quest he has found a SHUSH facility that might hold the key. But while there he runs afoul a mysterious newcomer to fight. Who is the Voice, and is it friend, or foe?