In his secret lair inside one of the Audubon Bay Bridge's support towers, Darkwing Duck was hard at work finding out everything he could about the Evronians, those strange lavender beings that nearly turned him and his family into roadkill the night before.

Once Darkwing Duck was wrapped up in a new case, there was no stopping him. He poured all of his energy into hours of research, scrutinizing every document he could, analyzing all testimonies, developing theory after theory.

Such was the life of St. Canard's resident superhero. And he dared not rest until the villains were behind bars, or he simply passed out from exhaustion.

How could there be any rest, when there was fame, glory, and movie rights on the line?

And Gosalyn and Launchpad were with him every step of the way. Launchpad by choice (he was Darkwing's sidekick, after all), and Gosalyn because she snuck in against her father's wishes, and Darkwing didn't want to bother with convincing her to go back home.

He tried, but his mind was on his research, so even the tried and true "because I said so" came out rushed and half-hearted, and not at all convincing to Gosalyn. So, he merely asked Launchpad to keep her occupied while he returned to the books.

It was important to be the first to the crime. No time could be wasted if Darkwing wanted to save the world and reap everything that came with it.

What little information he had been able to gather before now mainly consisted of hokey conspiracy theories and hyperbolic rhetoric backed by pixelated (possibly embellished) pictures. Tonight, he needed more concrete, professional sources. If Darkwing Duck was to triumph, he would need to know his new foe inside, outside, and sideways. And he knew just where to turn.

Darkwing Duck received information about crimes in the city from any news media he could find, from the trustworthy voice of Dan Gander at KDUQ, the eloquence of the St. Canard Gazette, or even the outrageous sensationalism of the supermarket tabloids. No scrap of paper nor snippet of audio, no matter how ridiculous, was worth skipping over. A lead could be found anywhere, and Darkwing had his methods down to a science.

Which was exactly why Launchpad and Gosalyn were playing Parcheesi in another area in the sprawling base, so Darkwing could work in peace.

"The gutsy girl winds up, ready to destroy the competition with the winning roll!" she said as she lifted her arm to her head, the dice rattling away in hand.

A seven was all that was needed to bring her last piece home and win. Luckily for her, she always seemed to throw the right numbers time after time, much to her father's chagrin. In fact, Huey Duck once called her the Gladstone Gander of board games.

She gave the dice one more shake for good measure, then cast them dramatically onto the board. They bounced around, leaving their final outcome unknown. She locked eyes on the jumping cubes with determination.

At last, they settled upon the board, a four and a three shining in the moonlight.

"Yes!" she shouted, jumping for joy.

Launchpad was flabbergasted. "I don't believe it! That's your fifth perfect roll in a row!"

She climbed onto the table and stood proud, crossing her arms. "Yehp yehp yehp," she said, polishing her fingers on her periwinkle jersey in a manner reminiscent of Darkwing. "These hands are magical. Wanna play something else?"

"I think we covered all the games, Gos," said Launchpad, pointing to the pile of hastily stowed board games, their contents spilling and commingling with pieces from other games. Launchpad had met a similar end with each of them.

Gosalyn sighed and hopped down onto the floor. "Well, what else are we supposed to do while Mr. Hermit's in there reading himself silly?"

"I heard that!" called Darkwing, and when Launchpad and Gosalyn turned around, there he was, walking towards them, holding a steaming mug of coffee.

He was dressed in his signature teal turtleneck and violet jacket, a good outfit for defeating delinquents, but not exactly necessary for bookworming.

"I'm not just 'reading myself silly', o daughter of mine. A good detective must do extensive research to determine exactly what they are dealing with, so that the villain may be vanquished, and justice can be served."

Gosalyn rolled her eyes. "I'd rather just get to the vanquishing part."

"Well, that's too bad. Then I guess you don't want to hear what I found about the Evronians." Darkwing began to saunter slowly away from her.

"Yeah, I do!" Gosalyn exclaimed and dashed past her father and into the library.

As Launchpad stood up and walked toward his hero, Darkwing sent a wink his direction. "Works every time."

Darkwing kept a vast library in his hideout. Mahogany bookshelves covered the wall opposite the entryway, and held within were a wide range of tomes, from encyclopedias to newspaper archives, to Darkwing's favorite mystery novels. Also in the library, housed in a file cabinet drawer inside the wall itself, were the Darkwing Files, where he archived every single case he ever worked on.

When Darkwing and Launchpad arrived, they saw Gosalyn staring at the giant corkboard next to his aging Quackintosh computer. A colorful collage of articles and photographs were pinned all over, with red string connecting each source together in twisting paths.

"Impressive, isn't it?" said Darkwing, not hiding his pride at his handiwork.

"It sure is, DW," said Launchpad, marveling over Darkwing's progress. "So, what have you found out?"

"Not much from the looks of this," said Gosalyn, pointing at the board. "For someone who talked trash about conspiracy theories last night, there sure are a lot of 'em here."

She was silenced with an annoyed glare from Darkwing. "W-well, I needed to compare each one for validity's sake."

"I could've helped, Dad! I see these windbags all the time on Grumblr. I know 'em like the back of my hand!"

"Duly noted, daughter of mine, but you would have been distracted by those clickbait-laden articles." He then turned aside to Launchpad and whispered, "Kids these days. They've got the attention span of a cocker-spaniel."

"Did you say something, Dad?" Gosalyn asked, knowing darn well what her father said. "Oh, sorry, you lost me." She shot a sly look his way and he rubbed at his temples in response.

"Anyway," he ground out, "those Internet lunatics provided a mere foundation, but now I've built the walls of this case. I've got the leads. I've got the evidence." His gesticulating grew wilder at this point. "And now, the unparalleled mind of Darkwing Duck shall put the case of the evil extraterrestrials to bed!" he shouted, puffing out his chest and sticking a finger in the air.

"Atta boy, DW!" Launchpad cheered, clapping his hands.

Gosalyn, however, was still not convinced. "Come on, dad, all this 'evidence' is no better than what those 'Internet lunatics' were spewing."

She was right. The newspaper reports were inconclusive at best, with not very much solid info to go on. "And I'm the one who said aliens in the first place. You must be off your game to be betting on the words of a little girl."

That was the last straw. Darkwing knew she was getting back at him for dozens of times she had been left home, but he didn't care. She had hit his ego in just the right place, and he would not stand for it.

"That's it, young lady!" he yelled. "If all you want to do is laugh and joke at the expense of the great Darkwing Duck, then you can go back home!"

"But, Dad-"

"Don't 'but, dad' me! You had your chance, and now it's gone! Go right home this instant!"

"Fine!" Gosalyn stomped off in a huff. "Who cares about stupid purple people eaters anyway…"

She marched over to the blue armchairs just outside the library and threw herself into one of them. She slammed the head of the statue on the end table with all her frustration. Her sour face remained with her as the chairs whisked her back to 537 Avian Way.

Darkwing returned to his corkboard, grumbling and muttering to himself. Launchpad swallowed, feeling the tension in the air turning his stomach inside out. He felt like he had to say something to get Darkwing back on track but struggled to find the right phrase.

He and Gosalyn never backed down from each other. It was an unfortunate side effect of having a spirited daughter, and an equally spirited father.

Launchpad finally broke the silence. "Sooooooooo um...how about the Evren...er, Eviano…"

"Evronians, LP," Darkwing groaned. He shook his head and walked over to Launchpad. "Well, at least you won't talk back to me." He unstuck a photograph and showed it to Launchpad. "My findings were interesting to say the least."

An Evronian squadron filed out of the elevator and into the launch warrior armed himself with a standard-issue plasma gun, which they holstered around the waist.

Zargon instead brought a special paralysis gun for his sidearm, which would immobilize his victim, rendering them no more useful than a statue.

Zargon looked it over with a sinister gleam in his eye. Failure was not an option. In fact, all the captain could see in his mind was triumph. There was no scenario in his mind that didn't result in great victory for his race.

Perfect.

With pride and adrenaline surging through him, he clipped the weapon to his belt and turned to his subordinates. "To your discs! Formation 6!" he barked.

The Evronian warriors were quick to retrieve their discs from the conveyor to the side, then formed up into a V shape in front of the largest door in the bay. It was the only barrier between them and the vast vacuum of space. There was not a warrior at the end of the V formation, for that spot was reserved for Zargon.

He joined his comrades and closed his eyes. Not a soul spoke as they anticipated their leader's order.

After a quick prayer to his emperor for a successful mission, he clicked a switch on his disc. The object whirred and hummed into life and floated gently just off the ground. Zargon stepped on nimbly, ready to depart. The other soldiers did the same and soon the hum of discs reverberated around the metal walls of the launch bay, giving the tangible excitement of the squadron a voice.

"We are ready to depart. Open the door," Zargon spoke into his ComLink.

"I obey, commander," came the reply from the deck. The bay door in front of the squadron unlatched with a loud CRUNCH and slowly lowered.

Zargon smiled menacingly as the blue planet revealed itself to them, with nothing else between the Evronians and their goals.

"For the glory of Evron! Move out!" With the wave of Zargon's hand, all five of them took off at the same time, whizzing out of the bay and into space with a deafening howl.

The blue chairs in the Mallards' living room howled audibly with their rapid spinning, but soon came to a halt. Gosalyn slid off the now stationary chair and stomped out of the living room and up the stairs.

"Stupid dad...can't take a joke…" she grumbled as she opened the door to her room and entered, slamming it behind her. The noise echoed through the halls before giving way to empty silence again.

She threw herself onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. "He could see I'm right if he wasn't so pigheaded…" she sighed.

She loved her father deeply. After all, he was the one who saw past her rough and tumble nature and gave her a permanent home. But sometimes, his ego clashed with her spirit and all they could do was step away from each other for a while. Darkwing would eventually come to his senses. At least, she hoped he would.

A flash twinkled in the clear night sky as the Evronians entered Earth's atmosphere. They traveled at extraordinary speed, but the battle-hardened soldiers were unfazed.

Zargon's disc was on autopilot, while he concentrated on determining Gosalyn's location. As the readings became clear, he was surprised to find she was alone, in a city not far from Duckburg.

"The girl is defenseless," he remarked. "This will make things easier." He swung his head around to addressed his cohorts. "But should any of you happen upon the two Earthlings she was with, vaporize them on sight!"

"Yes, sir!" they bellowed.

Zargon returned his view forward and led them on. They broke through the clouds and zoomed toward the St. Canard skyline.

"The Evronians are a race of devious aliens from a far-off planet called Evron," Darkwing lectured to Launchpad, who was listening intently. "They seek to conquer planets and rule the cosmos with a militaristic fist.

"As Gosalyn so rudely pointed out," he groused, shaking his head, "not very many conclusive results were yielded from our newspapers. However, back in Duckburg, it seems they can't get enough of our purple purveyors of peril. Any time the Evronians have attempted invasion, they've been conquered, crushed, and cast away with their tails between their spindly legs. All thanks to a superhero known only as the Duck Avenger."

Darkwing pointed to a photograph bearing the Duck Avenger. He stood brave, a strange device hoisted above his masked head.

"Is that some kind of shield?" Launchpad asked.

"Perhaps, though it's unlike any gadget I've ever seen, S.H.U.S.H.-made or otherwise." Darkwing pounded his hand with his fist. "I've gotta learn his secrets so that I can eradicate these evil extraterrestrials!"

"And how do we do that...exactly?"

"Tomorrow, we go to Duckburg, track him down, and study his every move, his every tactic, his every weapon. That way, we can take the fight to them..." He jumped onto the windowsill and announced proudly into the night air, "...and Darkwing Duck shall be the hero of the universe!"

The tall buildings and smoggy smell of St. Canard proper was quickly left behind by the Evronian squadron as they hurtled through the sky above the suburbs. Zargon maneuvered his group closer to the ground until they were hovering just above the road, utilizing the darkness of night as their perfect cover.

"Every dwelling looks exactly the same, sir," Kursaal complained, "how will we find the girl?"

"We use the tracker you laced her with, you sniveling idiot," Zargon grumbled as he grabbed Kursaal's beak and shoved it into the beeping monitor. A map showed Gosalyn's position in relation to theirs.

"Of course, sir," Kursaal responded, and Zargon let go of him.

After another left turn along the road, Zargon could identify the house they were looking for. He slowed his disc, alerting the patrol to prepare for landing.

The house, with its yellow siding and white picket fence, was certainly nothing like the elaborate masterpieces on Evron. In fact, the label most befitting it was "dull." The Earthlings were a strange bunch, to be sure.

Zargon hopped off his disc and all the warriors did the same. They all stalked slowly up the front lawn, feeling the blades tickle their feet.

Zargon stopped in front of the front door and turned to his soldiers. "Remember: that girl is mine."

"Yes, sir," they all whispered.

He lifted his leg and kicked the door with all his might. The locked deadbolt broke from its latch, and the resulting splinters were left to the mercy of gravity. The invasion of the Mallard house had begun.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's getting exciting, folks. Darkwing has no idea what unexpected guests he'll find when he returns home. I hope Gosalyn stands at least a chance, because right now, it's her vs. an Evronian Invasion. Catch you next time!