Part Three
                   Nuptial Vows -- Last Rites

     The humid, muggy air clung to Norbert's fur like moist velvet. It
did nothing to improve his current mood. The guinea pig glanced back
over the men under his charge, frowning as they trudged up the docks,
hauling the various wagons and crates for this particular transaction.
Morty wasn't around, at least, so that was a refreshing change of pace.
The raccoon knew his business, but God, he was more irritating than an
overenthusiastic girl scout selling cookies. In defense of Morty, though,
Norbert had to admit that the boss had a sharp eye for talent -- he had
made Norbert a lieutenant fast enough, after all.
     Norbert turned back to the pier, his frown settling into an
expression of trepidation. The sad truth was that he really wasn't very
comfortable with dealing with the buyers who had arrived on the ship.
Rumors had it that they were quite honorable, but that said honor was a very
twisted and convoluted version of the virtue. If they decided you were not worthy of
their honor, they would have no qualms about stealing your assets and
skinning you alive for their own amusement. Morty may been
demeaning, but he never had been into cruelty as the buyers had been
rumored to be.
     The gang members were talking amongst themselves as they moved
past their immediate boss, getting the goods ready for the meeting.
Norbert checked the small watch in his vest pocket. Only twenty minutes
to go. The buyers would be meeting them within the hull of the large
ocean liner.
     Technically, home turf, Norbert thought with a deepening frown.
This could easily be a trap, but Morty didn't seem concerned in the least,
and the raccoon was rarely, if ever, wrong.
     "Hey Norbert, your guys got all the stuff onboard?"
     He glanced over at the speaker; a stout mouse wearing a tan
trenchcoat. Next to him was an iguana, who sported a faded, red baseball
cap and natty, dark blue button-down shirt. They were Morty's other two
lieutenants, the only other members of the gang with whom Norbert could have
a true multi-syllablic conversation.
     "Yeah, Mitch," Norbert answered the mouse. "They're just getting
the last of the stuff up the ramp."
     "Good," the iguana, Terrace, nodded. "Morty wants us to have
everything ready early, so we can take a quick look around before the
deal takes place."
     "Makes sense," Norbert agreed. "Where's Harvey?"
     "Already inside. They have Zipper in their load, and are just going
to dump him with the other stuff for this deal. Sort of an added bonus. I
think he and Morty were going to start scouting out the ship, too. My
guess is that Morty will have each of our squads split up to watch the
sections of the ship surrounding the buyers. To make sure that no
unpleasant surprises are waiting for us." He motioned to several thugs
along the dock. "Harvey's already deployed most of his guys here on the
dock itself."
     The other two lieutenants nodded as all of them glanced over at the
impressive cargo ship. The deal was to take place near the back of the
main cargo hold, now somewhat sparsely filled after the dock workers had
unloaded the goods for this port. In the morning they would start loading
up for the next stop, but the deal would be closed and Morty's group
would be back on solid ground by then.
     Together, the trio headed after the last of Norbert's men, nodding a
greeting to a couple of Harvey's guards as they moved up the ramp and
onto the ship.
     It was deserted, the crew having gone ashore for some rest and
relaxation. A few night watchmen and assorted guards were still present,
but the gang knew their routes and steered clear so as not to alert any
curiosity from the humans. The cargo hold wouldn't be checked tonight,
so they wouldn't have any worries once they were safely below decks.
     The trio stealthily made their way to the access doorway in the front
of the cargo hold. Morty was already waiting, leaning against the open
doorjamb with one arm and looking out into the darkened hold. A few
rows of crates and other large packages were still present, creating a
gloomy labyrinth before them. Turning as they approached, Morty
motioned them aside to a secluded corner of the hallway. The rest of the
gang was busy on the inside of the hold with Harvey, making a final
check on the other merchandise the buyers had requested. The Time
Blade, however, was still held by Morty; he hadn't let anyone else even
touch it since they escaped from the Ivy Crest.
     "Well, boss?" Norbert asked quietly. "Any last minute plans?"
     "Naturally," the raccoon replied, equally subdued in voice. "Once
the boys have made sure we have everything ready here, Norbert's group
will be guarding it. Terrace, send your boys to check out the starboard
side. Mitch, your guys take the port. I'm certain that our buyers tonight
will play by the rules -- I just want to make sure that we have the same
rules they do. You three and Harvey will accompany me to the actual
deal. Keep your eyes open and mouths shut, understand?"
     They nodded. Morty just wanted them to tag along for the extra sets
of eyes, but any chance they had to sit in on a underworld deal of this
caliber was a welcome one. Each figured they might learn something
from it, which is exactly what Morty was hoping for. It didn't help him to
have complete idiots as his right-handed men, so he might as well start
their exposure to the top-tier aspects of crime now.
     "Now," Morty continued, "Harvey should be done any second, and
then I want us to go and take a look around ourselves. When we go in the
cargo hold, I want to have some empirical knowledge of the basic layout
of this ship should the need arise for a quick exit."
     He turned and headed off towards the numerous lackeys overseeing
the goods they brought, but not before he turned and cast one last gaze
back into the open cargo hold, and imagined the buyers waiting for them
with those untrusting smiles and foreign ways.
     Sometimes, he envied his underlings' ignorance.

                         *     *     *

     "Any sign of life?" Chip asked Foxglove as she landed next to him
and Dale.
     "I think I saw something going on near the ramp, but there's always
a lot of night animals out and roaming around, so I couldn't tell if it was
the bad guys," she shrugged. "I didn't think I should get any closer,
either, in case it was."
     Chip nodded, once again wishing that Zipper was with them.
Slipping past sentries and watchmen was practically second nature to the
housefly. Foxglove's size, coupled with her passive nature, limited her
recon work compared to their currently-captured teammate.
     "Well, let's go over there, then, and find out!" Monterey eagerly piped
up. "My pally's trapped by the blighter's, Tham's sword is still in their
grubby paws, and I owe a number of 'em some lumps from this afternoon,
still!"
     "Come on, Monty," Chip said, "you know full well that we need to
find out what else is going on here. It'll be hard for you to dish out those
lumps if half of the gang hides out only to stab us in the back later."
     "Feh," the irate Aussie snorted. "I'd like to see 'em try."
     "If I may make a suggestion, Chip?" Tham asked in crisp --
borderline cold -- tones.
     Chip nodded slightly, catching out of the corner of his eye Kan's
sad look at her fiance. Chip recalled Tham's unswerving determination to
bring his parents back from the dead, which, had he gone through with it,
would have cost the Rangers, Kan, Geegaw, and even Tham himself their
own lives. His crisis of conscience prevented it, thankfully, and Chip
secretly prayed it would keep Tham's obvious desire for retribution in
similar check tonight.
     "I would suggest," Tham said, "that we utilize Foxglove's flying a
bit more, and have her do a thorough scan of the pier and ship. It will
take a bit of time, true, but by knowing where our enemies are stationed,
we can slip through a weak spot."
     Chip pondered this for a moment, looking over at Foxglove. She
didn't have any objections to it from the smile and eager nod she gave;
feeling useful was one of her favorite pastimes. But if she was spotted, or
put in danger at all, they'd have no way of knowing or helping.
     "Good idea," he responded, "but someone should go with her, just
in case there's trouble."
     "Hey, no sweat!" Dale volunteered.
     Chip forced a smile. Sending Dale off as a safety measure for
Foxglove, despite his affection for her, was akin to using a penny to
replace a fuse.
     "Uh, sorry Dale," Chip carefully worded his reply. "But I was
thinking of someone a bit more, uh, capable of combat in this case."
     "Well," Kan spoke up, "I could go, I suppose. I don't weigh as
much as Dale, so Foxglove shouldn't have trouble carrying me."
     "Sounds good," Gadget nodded. "Foxglove? That okay with you?"
     Foxglove shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." She was obviously
disappointed that her "teddy chipmunk" wouldn't be with her, but had no
objections. She sprang up into the air, flapped over to Kan, gripped the
mouse by the shoulders, and quickly took off into the starry sky.
     "Where should we start?" Kan asked, not as familiar as Foxglove
was concerning aerial information-gathering.
     "With a general overview," the bat replied, climbing higher into the
sky. "We'll take a quick look over the whole area and see if we can find
anything that stands out. Then we just glide down in a wide, easy spiral.
Hope you're not afraid of heights."
     "Kind of late to be asking," Kan mumbled to herself. She wasn't
fearful, but being carried around by her shoulders like this was a
different experience for her. And she discovered that not having
anything under your feet as you gazed down over fifty feet to the nearest
surface was a bit unsettling, no matter how steely one's nerves might be.
     Reaching the apex of their fight, the two ladies scanned the boat
and dock for any overtly obvious signs, but didn't see anything. Kan
wasn't very helpful as she tried to peer through the darkness to spot any
small shapes flying around, but Foxglove's sonar would have picked up
anything had Kan missed it.
     Satisfied, Foxglove began her slow descent. She circled around the
ship counter-clockwise, dropping in altitude with each full pass. Both
spotted the occasional human walking about on deck, but no sign of any
ship mice or the rehearsal crashers.
     "How close do you want to risk getting?" Kan asked. "Too close
and we might be spotted."
     "I know," Foxglove answered with a fretful sigh. "But not close
enough and we might miss something, too. I'm not sure which is the
better option."
     Kan glanced about as they neared the ship and pointed to the top of
the bridge. "What if we land there?"
     "That'd be getting as close as possible," Foxglove noted, a bit
surprised.
     "But it'd be landing up near the top. We haven't seen anyone yet,
right? So if we can land there unnoticed, we can snoop around and
see where everyone is as we work our way down."
     Foxglove thought about this. "Okay," she agreed. "I haven't picked
anyone up with my echolocation, so this might be the best place to
board."
     She turned to the side a bit, allowing her and Kan to dive quickly
towards the top of the bridge, then evened out to drop Kan down gently
before she landed, herself.
     "Okay," Foxglove asked as they darted to the safety of the shadows.
"Now what?"
     Kan pressed a finger to her lips, and silently unsheathed her katana
as she glanced about. In a very low whisper (which didn't make much of
a difference to a bat, really), she said, "We'll keep to our circling search
pattern. You keep your ears open, and I'll handle any opposition we
encounter."
     Foxglove gulped. "You think we'll run into any?"
     Kan grinned. "I hope so."
     The two unlikely partners made their way down the back of the
bridge, coming to rest on the top deck. Kan pulled the black hood and
facemask up over her head, leaving only her eyes exposed. Foxglove had
to keep careful track of the Japanese female leading the way; her black
clothing and smooth movements made her difficult to see, and she had
even seemed to learn a way to muffle her own noise, hampering
Foxglove's ability to keep track of her through audible cues.
     They checked the top deck in silence, then continued to move on
until they reached the main deck. At this point, Foxglove lightly tapped
Kan on the shoulder and pointed down towards the open cargo hold. A
few small animals were making their way towards it. They were the size
of cats, but Kan couldn't tell offhand what species they might be, or
exactly how many there were.
     She debated in her mind continuing to search the deck or directly
following them. She glanced back at Foxglove, an eyebrow raised in
question. Foxglove, for her own part, understood the gesture, but wasn't
sure as to the better course of action. To gather a bearing on her direction,
she looked deep inside herself and asked herself: what would the smartest
person she knew do? The answer, she realized, was simple.
     Dale would happily charge in!
     The look of insight and energy on Foxglove's face unnerved Kan a
bit, but the bride was itching to get in a few strikes against Morty and his
gang, and so nodded at Foxglove's unspoken suggestion.
     Still keeping to the shadows, they tracked their quarry earnestly to
the lip of the open cargo hold. The opening on deck was gigantic,
stretching out over one hundred feet in front of them and about sixty feet
wide. The animals had walked over to a length of rope which disappeared
down into the hold. The animals, which could now be seen to indeed be
cats, skillfully slid down the rope and into the cloaking blackness below.
     Unable to see what was going on at the bottom, and having no
desire to follow the cats directly into their paws, the two investigators
made their way along the edge of the opening to the other side, where
Foxglove once again grabbed Kan by the shoulders, then sailed into the
unknown beneath them.
     Approximately ten minutes later, Foxglove shot out from the hold,
heedless of anyone who might spot her, and raced back to the rest of the
group.
     Alone.

                         *     *     *
                                
     The box rattled violently as it was sorted and stacked with the rest
of the goods being placed just inside of the cargo hold, up against the
wall. Zipper grunted as he was jarred about harshly within, grateful that at
least he could stand up and stretch afterwards. He listened intently for any
further clues as to what was going on, but the only voices he heard were
too muffled to make out. The trip over had been rather quiet, as well,
aside from two guys arguing over whether or not "The Blas‚ Witch
Project" was a good movie.
     Zipper reflexively jerked back as something was stacked on top of
the box he was in, sagging the ceiling inwards. Now things were starting
to get precarious. If the box he was in was stacked in tightly with several
others, then breaking through would be nearly impossible; he might be able
to escape this box, but not if the other side of it was blocked by another
wall.
     Still, he had to try. He wasn't getting any information just sitting
here, and from the sound of things, these boxes weren't going to be
moved again for quite a while. Glancing up at the bowed ceiling, he flew
up and checked out the corners and edges. If the box on top of his was
heavy enough, it might have strained the cardboard to the point of
weakening it. He poked and probed along the perimeter, searching for
any soft spots he might exploit.
     The stacking was still going on around him, as various other boxes
and crates were piling up around and over his small cell. The ceiling
shifted again suddenly as another weighted container was set on top of
the previous one. Apparently, the stockboys here didn't realize that boxes with
heavier weights should be on the bottom, rather than piled up on a virtually
empty box which would eventually start to collapse under the weight.
     A slight tearing sound attracted Zipper's attention to the corner of
the box's lid. A small rip was forming, although it was only on the inner
part of the wall; Zipper would still have to work his way through the
middle corrugation and outer part. Stealing a look over his shoulder at the
buckling ceiling, however, Zipper was more than willing to give it his all
to get out before the weight caved in and reduced him to a smear.
     Working as quickly as he could without alerting the people outside,
Zipper gnawed through the cardboard layers, ignoring the surprisingly
good taste of the wood pulp. Since the layer with the unknown coating
had already been bypassed by the tear, he didn't have to worry about
possible illness from the chemical. Even better, from the sounds around
him, the goons were finishing up with their work and were now heading
off. Zipper was certain that a few would stick around to guard the pile, but at
least this lone Ranger didn't have to worry about more weight being
stacked over him.
     Carefully, so as not to weaken the box any more than needed, Zipper
stealthily chewed through to the outer layer, widening the gap enough for
him to slip through. He elected to forgo flying away, as the noise might
tip off any of the guards nearby. Instead, he slowly made his way down
between the cracks and crevices dividing the numerous boxes and crates.
The low lighting and deep shadows made it somewhat difficult, but
Zipper's time as a Ranger, plus his growing ability as a detective, had
sharpened his awareness enough to make even the darkest spots
manageable.
     Upon reaching the floor, he sneaked around the corner of the stack,
checking for any signs of life. The cargo ship was eerily still, save for an
occasional metallic thump or clank as the humans above deck moved
about. Since he was actually in the cargo hold, he could see the opening
above him. Glancing up, he happened to catch something flying into the
hold off to the side. It was only visible for a moment, then vanished, but
Zipper could tell it was a bird of some kind. Biting his lip, he checked
around again as he stepped further away from the pile. He spotted a
couple of hoods on both ends of the pile, and a few wandering around out
in front.
     The small fly made his expedient and unobtrusive way to the side of
the wall, clinging to the shadows. Silently, he slipped past the guard on
the end of the pile, and once he was confident he was far enough away,
he took to the air. Staying along the wall, he scanned the cargo hold as he
slowly flew towards the ceiling, looking for any possible opposition in all
vectors. Nearing the top, he spotted some small light glowing from
behind a large line of crates near the very back of the hold, far under the
lip of the opening on deck. Listening carefully, he could hear a few voices
drifting over the night air. One last visual check around him, and he flew
over to the top of crates, to watch the proceedings below.
     Over in a shadowed corner, the raven whom Zipper had spotted
flying in waited, perched on top of an empty wall mount for a video
camera. From his current angle, Hedgerow had a complete view of
Zipper, Morty and his goons, and the buyers.
     "Finally back, eh?" he chuckled to himself as he eyed the recipients
of the Time Blade. "Carolyn's gonna love this bit." He settled in to watch
as Morty calmly walked to the carpet leading up to the two seated
Siamese cats.

     "Presenting their most magnificent and honorable selves, the
Siamese Twins," a small cat announced as Morty stepped fully up to the
base of the carpet. He knew enough not to actually step on it; it was
meant for the Twins and the Twins only.
     "So-o, Mister Morty-ty, you have obtained the-e Time Blade-ade?"
     Morty tried not to look to disconcerted. The Twins spoke as one,
but one of them was always slightly behind the other, creating an
unnerving voice that held its own slight echo. Whether they did it on
purpose or not, Morty had to give them credit. No matter how many
times he heard it, it always unsettled him.
     "Yes, I have," he replied simply, holding it out for them to see.
     They grinned as only felines can.
     "Purrrrrrrfect."
     "Uhm, yeah," Morty replied, lowering the sheathed weapon. "We
also brought the other items required for the completion of this deal.
And," he added, "an offer."
     The Twins arched an eyebrow apiece at this.
     Behind Morty, his lieutenants were fighting anxiety. Each dark
corner and mysterious shadow held a dozen cats in their mind's eye,
ready to spring out and slice them into lunch meat. They knew full well
how much dignity meant to the Twins, and how little it meant to Morty.
This knowledge did not settle their nerves.
     "The offer is as follows," Morty clapped his hands behind his back,
planting his feet firmly and leaning back slightly. "Upon turning over the
Time Blade and other goods, I will establish myself as the King of the
Docks, backed by you with your blessing."
     Harvey's jaw beat out the others, hitting the ground ahead of them
by a full half-second.
     The Twins pulled back in contempt, but Morty ignored their stupid
egos and continued.
     "With your rep behind me, I will easily consolidate the rest of the major
contenders here under my organization, as none would risk your wrath."
Except me, he thought to himself with a proud chuckle. "Then, I shall
clear out any of the opposition to your rightful thrones in Chinatown until
your own resources are back to their previous levels of respectability.
From then on, we shall maintain a healthy business relationship,
effectively combining the docks and Chinatown -- along with all the
outlining areas -- under our firm grasp."
     Several silent seconds crept by after Morty finished. He seemed
quite content with himself and his manner of handling the Twins and
their snooty honor garbage. He was, naturally, alone in this assessment.
     "Tell us-s, Mister Morty-ty," the Twins grinned devilishly at him,
"how you would like your pelt-elt hung from our audience chamber-er?"
     Morty sighed. "I had hoped we had gotten past the ubiquitous death
threats," he shook his head soberly, then looked back up at them. "Look,
ladies, let's be honest with each other. You've just returned from
hightailing it when Swarm hit this city. Those bugs ripped through your
businesses, your hideouts, practically everything. The order you knew
beforehand has been ground into a fine powder and scattered to the four
winds. As I'm sure you're aware, Fat Cat and Stripes have both pooled
their resources to create the largest criminal syndicate in the animal
underworld, despite its corny title of 'The Kingpin Kingdom'.
     "You honestly think you can waltz back in and claim both
Chinatown *and* the docks on your reputations -- which are dated, no
less -- without being wiped out like the 8-track?" Morty shook his head.
"Fat Cat's out of your league now."
     "Mr. Fat has worked-ed with us in the past-ast," they replied
smoothly.
     "And you think you have anything to offer him now?" Morty stated
bluntly. "With Stripes, he's in control of more power and influence than
you've ever had on your best days. If they decided to take Chinatown for
their own, we both know you'd lose. It'd be a fight, but," here he
chuckled as he remembered a quote, "'No matter how the wind howls,
the mountain cannot bow.'"
     "You are suggesting-ing that your alliance-ance would stop them-em?"
     "Yes, I am. Consolidate your strength back in Chinatown. I already
have the strongest stranglehold here in the docks. The point is to make
Fatty and Stripes realize that the price of overrunning us both would be
too steep. They would want to beef up their own forces, first. And while
they did so, so would we."
     "A purrrrrrpetual-al stalemate-ate?" the Twins said as they
simultaneously leaned back to contemplate. "This-is would only be-e
valid, Mister Morty-ty, if we were as depleted-eted of power as you seem
to think-ink."
     "You are. While you've been away, groups like the Rescue Rangers
have broken up a number of your rackets."
     Zipper had to fight the urge to pump his fist and shout the cheer of
"woof-woof-woof!"
     "The Rescue-ue Rangers-ers?" The Twins scoffed. "Absurd-urd.
They are but fleas of bother-er. No more."
     "Untrue." Morty was beaming. "I did some checking. They've been
your single greatest expense thus far." Boy, was he glad he had read that
comic with Dr. Doomsday and the Headpin...
     Zipper wished he had a recorder for posterity.
     The Twins were silent. Morty was grinning openly. The cats around
were tensing to attack. The lieutenants were bracing themselves for the
fight of their lives. Zipper was watching intently. Even Hedgerow could
feel the tension from his secluded spot.
     Finally, the Twins decided, although they never even so much as
looked at each other.
     "Agreed-eed."
     Morty, to everyone's surprise, clapped his hands in front of him and
solemnly bowed. "You honor me with your decision, wise Twins. May
your homeland soon receive its own profitable theme park."
     While the expression was off-kilter for the Twins, they sensed the
honesty of the sentiment.
     "We will pass word-ord before we depart-art," the Twins
announced. "We trust you will have-ave everything ready-dy for our
return-urn?"
     Morty nodded. "Everything will be in place when you make your
way back to the city."
     From his vantage point, Zipper frowned while Morty signaled to his
henchmen and they headed off. Morty paused to nonchalantly hand the
Time Blade to one of the Twins' assistants, but that wasn't the cause of
Zipper's worry. Why were the Twins taking a trip before even
reestablishing their place in Chinatown? Were they looking to gain
something by delaying it? It didn't sense to make sense to Zipper, but he
tried to remember that they had other interests elsewhere, which probably
played a large part in it--
     Suddenly, a hand came from nowhere and clapped over his mouth
tightly, preventing him from crying out in surprise. He started to struggle,
but stopped as he heard a hushed whisper: "Zipper, relax -- it's me, Kan."
     He glanced over, and spotted her right alongside him; she had
sneaked up without him ever hearing a thing. She had her hood up and
her facemask down, her white face almost seeming to float in the air, as
her black clothes blended her body in with the background.
     Zipper breathed a sigh of relief as she took her hand away.
     "The others are outside," Kan explained in subdued ones. "Foxy
took off to let them know we had found the Time Blade, and who the
buyers were. I stayed behind to try and find you."
     Zipper expertly motioned if she had witnessed the deal between
Morty and the Twins.
     She nodded. "I don't know who these Twins are, but Foxglove said
Dale had told her all about the Rangers' early encounters with them." She
blinked and looked at Zipper quizzically. "Zipper? Did Dale really wind
up saving Chip from them with a scrub brush?"
     Zipper grinned and nodded, indicating that for once Dale had
indeed being telling the true story; he had basically surfed in through
the cats and snatched Chip up. Before they crashed into a washer.
     Kan smiled. "Well, from Foxglove's description, it sounded more
like the escape from Alcatraz." She looked around. "In any case, they're
going to try and get in here as soon as possible. We don't think that any
of the gangs' members are on the main deck, so Foxy just took off like a
shot. We don't want to lose track of the Time Blade."
     Zipper glanced up at, noticing Kan's small frown.
     Kan? he motioned, what's wrong?
     She sighed lightly. "We're all going to be risking our lives over a
sword. It seems silly to me. Tham is willing to give up all he has for this
katana, just like back in Japan. He gets so obsessed at times, Zipper."
     For a brief second, Zipper thought he heard something above them.
He glanced up through the opening, checking for anyone on deck. No
sign of anyone, and the only movement was that of a hook from one of
the loading cranes on the nearby dock, its long metal arm currently out
over the ship. The hook creaked slightly as it moved back and forth in the
wind, accounting for the sound.
     Looking back to Kan, Zipper explained that from what he knew of
Tham, the Time Blade was the most potent link he had to his parents. He had
lost his parents once already, and would rather die than do so again.
Tham was very much a believer in family.
     "And I don't count?" Kan silently replied, looking down at the crate
she was laying on.
     You know that's not how Tham feels, Zipper expressed with a
frown. He hadn't meant for it to come across as scolding, but this was no
time for Kan to doubt her fiance's love for her.
     She lowered her head a bit in shame. "I know. But it feels that way
at times."
     Watching her, Zipper wondered if there wasn't something else
bothering her. She had lost her own parents early on, so it was likely that
she was going through the same thing Tham was: no desire to lose any
more of her loved ones.
     Kan glanced up again, and smiled suddenly as she spotted
something. "Foxglove," she announced quietly as she pointed up to the
visible night sky. Zipper checked, and following Kan's finger, could
indeed make out a small, flying shape slowly circling over the hold,
steadily getting closer.
     "Why is she risking being seen like that?" Kan wondered. It was
hard to see her, true, but Foxglove already knew that the top of the bridge
was clear and safe to land on.
     Zipper tapped Kan on the shoulder and pointed down below. He
quickly made a series of small squeaks and buzzes to indicate that they
should be more concerned at the moment with the Time Blade. The
Twins had taken it from their assistant and had been examining their
latest acquisition lovingly. But now they handed it back to their assistant,
who was heading off into the maze of crates with the others, undoubtedly to
store it somewhere safe.
     They could easily lose track of them in the twisting corridors
between the walls of crates, so Kan adjusted her hood and facemask into
position, then followed Zipper along the top of the stack of crates they
were on, making their way after the departing henchmen. It wasn't very
hard, as by staying on the top of the stacks it was fairly simple to keep the
cats in sight.
     Hedgerow watched as they moved further away from the audience
chamber of the Twins, then turned his sharp gaze back to the sky. Kan
and Zipper had spotted something, although Hedgerow hadn't seen what
at first. Now, with things slowing down, he looked back out the opening,
searching for some sign of what might have been out there.
     A few minutes later, he saw his answer slowly levitating down to
the top of a crate pile off to the side. Actually, the mouse wasn't
levitating, really -- Hedgerow could tell from the way he was being
lowered that he had some thin string or wire tied around his waist -- but
in the darkness, he couldn't actually spot the line.
     The raven recognized the ballast as Monterey Jack, and then placed
the bat as being Foxglove when she landed next to the Ranger deftly.
Although Hedgerow didn't realize it, Kan and Zipper hadn't actually
spotted Monterey, just Foxglove. She had been circling the slowly
lowering mouse to keep an eye (and ear) out for any lookouts on board.
Aside from the unbeknownst-to-them raven in the corner, they had arrived
without anyone's notice. Being small had its advantages.
     Monterey untied the fishing line from around his waist and tugged
on it a few times, alerting the rest of the Rangers on the hook high
overhead that everything was all set. Foxglove maintained the watch
while Monterey held the base of the line steady. After several more
minutes, one by one, the rest of the group climbed slowly down the
line to the ship. They carried a few things that Hedgerow couldn't make
out, but from their reputation, were more than likely those plunger
harpoons he had heard so many wonderful stories about. Foxglove then
flew back up to the hook, untied the line, and sailed effortlessly back
down to the others. Hedgerow suddenly realized that they hadn't said a
single word to each other.
     Now regrouped, the Rangers, Foxglove, and Tham started down the
crates and out of Hedgerow's line of vision. He was tempted to fly over
for a better view, but decided against it. He could probably best see
everything from his current spot. He had to wonder if Carolyn's
show was nearly as interesting as his.

     Outside, on the top of the warehouse across from the ship, Carolyn
grimaced as she looked at the sight through her binoculars. She couldn't
remember the last time things had been this boring.
     She had been expecting there to be some sort of action, with the
Rangers and Tham getting into an exciting fight with Morty's guards by
the boarding plank, but nooooo -- they had to go and spoil everything by
choosing the subtle approach and sneaking onboard from the crane's
hook!
     Where was the fun in that?
     Sighing, she settled back for a long wait. All the interesting stuff
would be happening inside.

     Kan and Zipper watched as the cats carrying the Time Blade
stopped in front of a small safe in the corner. Nervously, they looked at
each other, thinking along the same pathways.
     "If they lock it in there..." Kan started.
     We'll never get it back out, Zipper's sigh finished.
     He knew Gadget might be able to get the safe open with some time,
but there was no way in Raid they would be able to move the safe off of
this ship before it left dock.
     "Well, Zipper," Kan asked, "shall we?" Even though her mouth was
covered, Zipper could hear her smile.
     Ladies first, Zipper motioned with a grin.

     "Ki-YA!"
     The shout reverberated throughout the entire cargo hold, echoing
and rebounding from the metal walls, only being stopped by the wood
and cardboard containers scattered about. The smooth silence of the
cargo hold harshly broken, all animals stopped and turned, though there
was no way to tell where exactly the sound had come from.
     The cat carrying the Time Blade didn't even have time to turn his
head. Kan had focused the energy of her shout into her strike, driving her
feet squarely down on the cat's head. It wasn't enough to knock the cat
out, of course, but it was more than enough to cause him to drop the
Time Blade in surprise.
     While Kan flipped up onto the safe, fully drawing the
surrounding cats' attention, Zipper darted in and caught the falling katana
before it hit the ground, making a beeline for the nearest crack between
two crates. Two of the cats noticed him, but Zipper managed to dodge in
safely before their claws could home in, rebounding harmlessly from the
edges of the crates.
     Zipper's triumph was short-lived, unfortunately, as the two boxes
were against the wall, making escape through that end impossible, and
one of the cats hopped up on the top of the two crates, effectively
blocking off that avenue. More importantly, Zipper hadn't counted on the
Time Blade being this heavy. It was undoubtedly mostly because of the sheath, but
nevertheless, the weight of it was robbing him of his full speed and
agility.
     The outlook of this endeavor plummeted like Black Monday as a
couple more cats got on the other side of the crates, and with a mighty
heave, smashed them together. Zipper never even had a chance to
scream.
     Kan might have been enraged if she wasn't too busy to notice. It
had seemed like any other high-risk event that she had done before; sneak
attack, distract the cats, then escape while Zipper headed off with the
Time Blade. But these cats had reacted faster than she expected, and had been
on the attack almost instantly. She had her katana out, but she was also
outnumbered by foes who were far stronger than she was. After her initial
attack, she had been strictly on the defensive.
     Duck. Roll. Jump. Sidestep. Dodge. Leap. Block. Pivot.
     She never had a chance to formulate a plan beyond avoiding the
next attack. This type of game plan did not win battles. Every time she
landed, she had to move again. Every time she looked, another set of
claws were rushing in. Every time she caught her breath, she spent it in
another evasion. She had no clue how much time had passed. A minute? A
second? Somewhere, she had heard two crates crash together, and felt a
shudder run through her almost instinctively. Somehow, she knew Zipper
hadn't escaped.
     It was only a matter of time before she was next.
     Thus, it was not a big surprise when she was finally caught unawares
and thrown prone to the top of the safe, the katana ripped from her
grasp. What *was* surprising was who had been responsible.
     Having pushed his weary bride down from the line of fire, Tham
almost excitedly flipped into the midst of his natural predators. Their
loud meows were no doubt alerting more reinforcements, but he didn't
need much time. Already he had gone into an attack routine, a blur of
blade and fur.
     Kan's main mistake was that having landed on top of the safe, she
had unwittingly taken away the advantage of her smaller size. At eye
level, the cats had no problem not only surrounding her but also
effectively taking their swipes. Tham fully exploited his relatively
diminutive stature and the open space of the floor, darting in between the
cats, ducking and rolling under them, and doubling back without
warning.
     The jabs with the katana helped, of course. Tham wasn't looking to
severely harm the cats, merely rattle their nerves a bit and keep them
off guard. A paper cut is small, but can be very inconvenient when it's
on the tip of a finger.
     On top of the safe, as Kan regained her breath, she glanced about in
confusion. Monterey Jack and Gadget were helping her to her feet.
     "What--?" she started.
     "You have a powerful set of lungs," Gadget answered, adjusting the
straps of her weapon. "And Foxglove had no problem picking out the
direction it came from."
     Chip and Dale knelt down and fired their plunger harpoons, rope
trailing out behind each one. They didn't bother to aim too carefully, as in
the cluster of cats they were bound to hit someone. Sure enough, they did, at
which point Foxglove grabbed both ends of the rope and took off. Flying
in tight, fast circles around the cats, she managed to entwine a couple
others besides those hit.
     "Just like the snow speeders against the walkers, huh Chip?" Dale
observed with a grin.
     Chip merely grumbled to himself as he reloaded the harpoon.
     "Where's Zipper?" Kan asked worriedly. "He was with me, and
tried to get the Time Blade."
     "I don't see either of them," Chip said as he quickly glanced about.
"Do you know which way he went?"
     "That..." Kan's voice dropped. "...way." She swallowed as she saw
that the two crates Zipper had headed for were flush together.
     With a few of the cats preoccupied in the encircling rope, Tham
managed to relax a bit and organize his strikes more carefully. No longer
in the mad rush of the first charge, he was far more careful, staying
mainly on the defensive. The cats telegraphed their moves fairly
consistently, so Tham focused on keeping them distracted, to give the
others as much time as they needed. He was being helped out, after all, a
fact which was nicely accented as one of the cats approaching suddenly
was hit in the face with a blotch of black ooze, forcing him to stagger
backwards, only to be tripped up by a length of rope stretched between
Chip and Dale, who had dropped to the floor.
     Glancing up at the top of the safe, Tham thanked Gadget for her
marksmanship with a quick smile. Gadget smiled back, then took a
second to aim before squeezing off another shot with the Syrup-Slinger.
Dead on target, the cat stumbled back with sugar-free syrup in its face.
Chip and Dale quickly realigned themselves to trip up this one as well.
     Monterey wanted nothing more than to help out in the fight -- he
*was* the best brawler in the group, after all -- but first priority was to get
Zipper. He didn't doubt for a moment that his oldest buddy had survived
somehow. Zipper had been crafty enough to live through a head-to-head
encounter with Hitter, after all, which even Monterey would have found
difficult.
     Grunting, he strained to move the crates apart, but even with
Foxglove and Kan's help, they were too heavy.
     "Wait," Kan said, glancing up. "Follow me!" Without waiting for
them, she clambered up the side of the crate to the top. As Monterey and
Foxglove caught up with her, she let out a triumphant cheer.
     "Yes! I was right!" She grinned and pointed to the slight crack
between the crates at the back. "Since Zipper had the Time Blade, there's
no way the boxes could be flat together! The Time Blade would act as a
brace!"
     "Crikey, luv, I never thought of that!" Monterey bounded over to
the crack and called down it. "Zipper! You hear me, mate?"
     He grinned as he heard the uncomfortable but confirming squeaks
in reply.
     "Now how do we get him out?" Kan asked. "Backup for the cats
will be here any second!"
     Monterey leaned over the crack, placing his paws on the sides of the
two boxes, and strained as hard as he could, trying to force the wedge to
open wider. Again, Kan and Foxglove knelt beside him to help, but they
still all had to push until their muscles screamed, and then push a bit
more. The crate they weren't on shifted away only fractionally, but it was
enough. A shaken Zipper flew up from the crack, still breathing a bit hard
at the near-collision that almost ended his life.
     "Zipper, pally, great job!" Monterey grinned as he took the heavy
Time Blade from Zipper, allowing the housefly to hover more easily. The
Aussie's own muscles were tired, but could easily handle hefting the
katana. "Ya got the Time Blade!"
     And a headache, Zipper added with a weak smile.
     "HALT-ALT!"
     The fighting cats immediately quit their attacks and leaped back,
out of range of Tham's flashing blade. Tham, himself, froze as his eyes
darted to the direction of the shout. The Rangers felt their stomachs drop
as they collectively turned to see the Twins, Morty, and about thirty or so
members of both crimelords' gangs gathered around them. 
     Quite a few of them were applauding.
     "Just fleas of bother, huh?" Morty chuckled at the Twins. "Told you
so."
     The Twins frowned at him, but maintained their dignity as they
turned their focus to the task at hand.
     "It would appear-ear," they addressed the tiny group of friends,
"that you have attempted-ed to steal our latest-est treasure of Oriental-tal
value-ue."
     Morty made an almost silent, sardonic, "No!" as he rolled his eyes.
Foxglove still heard, but was too petrified at the moment to laugh.
     Chip opened his mouth.
     "No, my honored hosts, we did not."
     And closed it promptly as he stared at Tham. The proud warrior
strode up to the Twins; too close, as far as Monterey was concerned.
Tham was within Snatch-n'-Snack range of their claws.
     He made a formal bow of greeting. Kan noted it was a deep one, as
one would greet an esteemed person of honor.
     The Twins looked pleasantly surprised at this, and bowed
themselves. While not bowing as deep as Tham, they apparently felt he was
nearly equal to them in honor. Dale was expecting Tham to suddenly
spring up and attack while the Twins heads were down, just like he'd seen
Jackie Chance do in "Cannonball Fun".
     But Tham did nothing of the sort. Instead, he waited politely in a
noble stance until the Twins rose up again.
     "My name is Sun An Tham, head of the Sun Clan, son of Sun Ran,
and last of the Shandi bloodline."
     "We, are the Siamese Twins-ins, Tham-san. Welcome to our home-ome. 
What business-ess do you bring to discuss-uss?"
     "Twins-san," he said crisply, "the Shandi Clan first forged the Time
Blade and have passed it down from one generation to the next. The relic
is priceless to our family, much as one's soul is priceless."
     "Or worthless," Kan darkly muttered as she stared at Morty. He
caught her glare and smiled sweetly.
     "I have entered your dwelling not of my own desire. To keep honor
and respect to my ancestors and the spirits that have served us throughout
the centuries, I was drawn by duty to reclaim the heritage which was so
cruelly stolen from my abode not more a half day ago. I ask of you to
make the honorable act of returning it to me without opposition, which in
your true wisdom is the only choice one can see."
     "Purrrrrhaps-aps," they grinned slightly, eyeing this mouse before
them. "But ownership must-ust be proved before we-e can properly
exercise-ise our judgement-ent, Tham-san." They turned to Morty.
"Mister Morty-ty, did you acquire the Time Blade-ade in Tham-san's
dwelling-ing?"
     Morty looked at them as if they were asking how to get to the State
Fair. "Well, duh," he finally replied.
     The Twins lowered their lids a bit, but did not reply. This new
partnership was going to be a challenge.
     "It seems the matter-ter is complex-ex," they explained to Tham
sugary. "If you had arrived-ved before Mister Morty-ty bartered it to 
us-us, this would not be-e our problem-blem. As it is, ownership-ship has
changed-anged twice thus far-ar. After all, we also-so acquired it
through-ough a simple barter-ter. It is as much ours-urs as it is 
yours-ours."
     "In which case," Tham picked up smoothly, "we need to arrange a
way to determine sole ownership."
     Gadget watched with interest. Tham was behaving every bit as a
nobleman should, but she guessed that he wanted nothing
more than to leap over and throttle the Siamese Twins, Morty, and the
rest of the crowd that had dared to steal his heritage. Tham's apparent
willingness to try alternative tracks besides the outright suicidal gave a
glimmer of hope that they might walk out of this alive.
     "May I suggest," Tham continued, "a duel?"
     Then again, maybe not.
     "A duel-uel?" the Twins echoed. Then smiled. "We chose our
champion-pion, you understand-and."
     Morty blinked. The Twins were agreeing to this? He wasn't
particularly keen on killing a couple who were to be married the next day,
but nevertheless, the idea that the Twins would be willing to risk the
Time Blade was stunning.
     Tham solemnly nodded to the Twins. "As honor demands. And I
hold the right to choose the form of combat."
     "But of course-ourse," they chorused with might have been actual
sincerity. "If you would-ould be as so kind as to-o wait in the 
audience-ence chamber, we shall-all fetch our champion-pion, so that 
the trail-ail of ownership-ship may be started without-out delay-lay."
     "As you wish, most gracious hostesses," Tham bowed to them
again.
     "I thought that was Ding and Dong's clan," Dale whispered to
Chip.
     Morty gave a sidelong questioning look as Chip bopped Dale
repeatedly on the head. Chipmunks were odd animals.
     Tham turned to face Zipper, and motioned for the Time Blade.
     Zipper kept a wary eye on the ring of enemies around them, but he
still flew over to Tham and carefully handed over the disputed artifact.
Tham slipped the famed katana through his belt, and for the first time
since the rehearsal, he smiled. Nodding to the others, Tham turned and
proudly strode to the audience chamber, not showing the least bit of fear
as he walked between the cats that had been attempting to rip him apart
mere minutes ago.
     While the Twins headed off with their personal guards, the rest of
the gathered crowd proceeded without incident back to the audience
chamber. High above, Hedgerow carefully unfolded his wings and gently
glided over to a stack of crates closer to the chamber. He already had
found out the important bits; Morty was working with the Twins, the
Twins had something going on further south, and this alliance between
them and Morty was not a particularly stable one at the outset.
     Now, he just wanted to relax by watching a good fight. All he was
missing was a drink and a bowl of pretzels.

     Tham sat cross-legged on the floor, near the side of the area that
served as the Twins' audience chamber. His head was tilted back, his eyes
closed, apparently in meditation. The sheathed Time Blade rested
peacefully on his lap, his arms stretched out with the back of his wrists
placed on his knees. His palms were up, hands forming a symbol that the
Rangers didn't recognize, but could guess was part of the meditative
trance that the resolute mouse was currently in.
     Gadget glanced around at the group. Morty's gang and the Twins'
entourage were a respectful distance away, on the other side of the
chamber. Nobody felt like engaging in any taunts or jeers, not even
Morty. She had to admit, though, that the way in which Tham and the
Twins had handled themselves had already seemed to set the stage for 
what was about to happen. They were, after all, the people with the major
interests in this... "property dispute", such as it was.
     The rest of the Rangers and Foxglove were abnormally quiet, as
well. None of them wanted to bother Tham, naturally, but Gadget knew
the real reason was that there really wasn't anything for them to do. Even
if they came up with some way out of this mess, Tham would not hear of
it. He had staked his honor on this duel, and everyone in the group
knew he would abhor any suggestion of somehow going back on his
word. Especially since he had initiated it all.
     Kan, for her own part, never took her eyes off of Tham. She merely
stood there, utterly silent, watching as her beloved meditated. Gadget
frowned slightly as she thought about the things that might be
running through the mind of her friend. As a Rescue Ranger, Gadget had
already undergone numerous experiences involving the very real possibility of
losing a trusted friend and teammate on an adventure. She had thought
that she had lost all of the Rangers more times than she cared to count.
But Kan's only real exposure to this type of emotional gauntlet was
during their quest to retrieve to Time Blade in the first place. And even
then, Kan certainly didn't have the type of attachment with the Rangers
and Tham that she had now. 
     Especially not with Tham.
     Finally, full of a desire to do *something*, Gadget carefully
approached Kan.
     "You okay?" she asked gently, surprised how loud her whisper
seemed to sound in the heavy stillness surrounding them.
     Kan blinked a few times, then turned to look at Gadget. "I don't
know, Gadget. I really don't."
     Gadget offered Kan a reassuring smile. "Look, Tham's a really
good swordsman. You know that. He'll be able to hold his own."
     Kan didn't answer right away. One of her hands was absent-mindedly 
twisting a lock of hair. "Gadget?"
     "Yes?"
     Again a pause. Gadget swallowed. She had never seen Kan this
rattled before.
     "Gadget," Kan stated again, breaking off her stare and fixing her
gaze on the floor. "I... don't feel anything right now. I'm... I'm just too
numb."
     "It's not surprising," Gadget nodded, placing a hand on Kan's
shoulder, to let the troubled woman know a friend was close by.
     "I... I just don't believe it, really." Kan took a deep breath,
managing to collect herself a bit. "We're supposed to be married
tomorrow -- later today, actually. And here we are, all of us, maybe about
to die, maybe about to walk out of here..." she shook her head to clear it,
then looked back at her friend. "I don't want Tham to die."
     "I don't think any of us do, Kan. You're not alone."
     Kan looked back to the floor. "Then why do I feel like I am?"
     It was a rhetorical question, which didn't stop Gadget, of course.
"Because you can't do anything but stand by and watch as Tham
sacrifices himself?" she offered helpfully.
     Kan's mood was caught off-guard by this simple, and true,
statement.
     "Yes," she finally admitted. "That might have something to do with
it."
     Two pairs of paws -- belonging to the Twins -- clapped twice
crisply, signaling for the duel to commence. Everyone started at the
sound, aside from Tham. He gently lowered his chin, breathed calmly,
said a prayer to his ancestors, and rose. His family's celebrated katana
firmly in hand, he walked towards the center of the audience chamber,
only to be halted by Kan's interposed figure.
     "Kan," he said quietly, cutting off her forming protests, "please do
not try to stop me."
     She did not open her mouth, but squeezed her eyes shut and gripped
his shoulders tightly, purging her emotions.
     When she did reopen her eyes, her attention was directed on
Tham's shirt. She began to fuss with it as she spoke, minutely adjusting
and straightening the collar and seams, as if he was about to attend a
formal dinner.
     "When we are married, Tham," she said calmly, not meeting his
eyes, "I will allow you a great many things. I will allow you to stay away
from home when dealing with matters of the Clan. I will allow you to be
bland and boring during meetings with other nobles, as tradition dictates.
I will allow you to be the sole keeper of my love, for now and all
eternity." She turned her eyes, bright with tears, up to his. "All I ask in
return is that you live so that I may allow you these privileges. Please, by
all that is sacred," here her voice was nothing more than a whisper,
"don't leave me."
     Without warning, she pulled him into a surprisingly long and
passionate kiss, not caring who was around or what the current situation
might be. All she knew was that she had to make her true feelings known.
All her fears, hopes, dreams, wishes... all were bound into this one kiss.
She was well aware it might be their last embrace, and was determined to
make it count.
     For his own part, the long meditation Tham had gone through was
expediently chucked out the window in favor of the rush of emotions he
felt for Kan as he held her to him tightly. And, for a brief moment, he
was aware that without question, his ancestors were indeed watching over
him. All the years of training to become a grim and calculating warrior had
never unlocked this part of his bloodline; the warrior who fought for
more than tradition, more than himself, more than birthright -- the
warrior who fought for the honor of his love.
     In a way, it was fortunate that the group was hidden by the
shadows, as the intensity of the kiss made Gadget and Foxglove both
blush. Considering the less than desirable setting they were in, the
Rangers and Foxglove felt as if they were witnessing the grandest
farewell kiss of them all.
     Quietly, Tham and Kan parted, eyes locked in a soulful gaze.
     "I love you, Kan Sune," Tham quietly told her.
     "I love you, An Tham Sun," Kan softly replied.
     Another moment to enjoy their shared passion, and then Kan
stepped back, allowing Tham to walk quietly to the center of the
chamber, where his as-yet-unknown adversary waited.
     Watching him go, Kan didn't bother to wipe the tears away. As she
slowly closed her moist eyes, the tears felt soothing and cool as they
delicately slipped free. The first few soaked into her fur, wetting it down
and creating thin trails for the rest to streak down, dripping gently, almost
cooingly, against the cold metal floor.
     His last whisper hung in her ears.
     "I love you, Kan Sune."

     "What is it?" Dale blinked at the small rodent who stood opposite
Tham in the center of the chamber. The mammal resembled a gerbil,
although it was actually a bit bigger than Tham. It had long, muscular
legs, a lengthy tail, and was wearing a simple red tunic with a gold
waistband.
     "It's a jerboa, mate," Monterey answered with a pensive frown. He
should have figured that the Twins' current followers would be from their
Asian holdings back East. Having been settled in Stones City for the past
five years, he had just grown accustomed to seeing mice, rats, and similar
city animals in the underworld groups. Still, living out in Japan, Tham
was probably aware of the ability of this particular animal.
     "A what?" Dale asked, scratching his head.
     "A jerboa," Chip repeated, eyeing the rodent carefully. "They
usually stick to North Africa and Asia."
     "Still a big place, bucko," Monterey dryly noted.
     "Golly, are they naturally good fighters?" Gadget was wondering
why they choose this guy instead of one of the many cats.
     "Some are, some aren't, luv," Monterey responded with a shrug.
"No more than mice or rats. Their back legs, though, are whatcha gotta
watch out for. They can bound all over the bloomin' place in an eyeblink.
Like the kangaroo rats back home."
     "So you think that's why they didn't use a cat?" Gadget asked.
     "I was wondering about that, too," Foxglove nodded. "Wouldn't a
cat have a better chance?"
     But Monterey shook his head. "Naw, not against Tham. Remember,
they saw him doin' a bit of his own Sabre Dance against the cats, if ya
catch my drift."
     Chip nodded. "Good point. The Twins probably figured that an
opponent closer to his own size would be a better match up."
     Zipper squeaked a bit, pointing out that this guy was actually bigger
than Tham, and was also probably as fast with those hind legs.
     "Too right, mate," Monterey sighed. "Gotta give the Twins credit.
They know how to pick their weapons."
     "Speaking of which," Chip said, motioning for everyone to quiet
down, "looks like they're about to do just that."
     "Have-ave you selected-ected your choice of combat-bat, Tham-san?" 
the Twins chorused.
     Tham nodded. "As you have no doubt already surmised, I chose the
warrior's art of the katana."
     "A noble-ble choice," the Twins replied. They nodded to one of
their servants, who brought out a katana for the jerboa to use. "Our
champion-pion, Bajin, is ready-dy. We assume-ume you shall use the-e
Time Blade-ade?"
     "As is my right," Tham replied with a crisp nod, just in case the Twins
might try to deny him. But they merely nodded in response. They were
well aware of the rules for these types of contests.
     "The outcome-come is as agreed-reed. If you succeed-ceed, you and
your-our friends may leave-ave with the Time Blade-ade. If you fail-ail,
the Time Blade remains-ains ours, as do you-ou."
     "There is no failure," Tham automatically corrected them. "Only
success and death."
     The Twins' dual grin was one of the most horrific sights the Rangers
had ever seen.
     Tham and Bajin took their places in the center of a square that had
been drawn by the Twins' attendants. If one of the contestants left or was
forced out, they forfeited the duel. It didn't have to be to the death, but
fighting it in any other style would be guaranteeing defeat. Bajin and
Tham bowed to each other, then to the Twins, seated at the front of the
chamber in their cushioned chairs. Slowly withdrawing their blades from
their sheaths and settling into a fighting stance, Bajin and Tham awaited
the official signal from the Twins.
     "Begin."
     Dale's mind was going through all of the educational films he had
seen on Oriental fighting techniques: "Big Trouble in Little Dinnerware,"
"Enter the Dragon, Stage Left," and, of course, "A Rumble in the
Bratwurst." So he wasn't too surprised to see the two contestants slowly
circle each other at first, issuing a few testing jabs and strikes to measure
up each other's skill.
     Zipper grimaced as he watched Tham's guarded stance. It was clear
to the housefly that Tham was already on the defensive. Nobody knew a
thing about this Bajin guy, aside from the fact that he apparently knew his
share of combat styles; the Twins had picked him before even knowing what
style Tham would choose, although it could be argued that the katana
would be the obvious choice.
     Aside from that general fact, however, Tham didn't have the
slightest clue as to his foe's prowess. The initial light thrusts and swipes
showed Bajin was at least proficient with the blade, but that was all. If Bajin
was on a par with Tham's own skill, than the would-be groom might be 
showing up in a religious ceremony for death, rather than marriage. The jerboa was
larger, stronger, and faster. The squared arena which confined the fight
took away any advantage from using a vast area, as Tham had done with the cats.
     Tham was reassured, however, in that whether he lived or died, Kan
and the others would go free. In his mind, he had won long before he
stepped onto the battlefield. With that firm belief, he decided against
delaying the inevitable any longer.
     Dale reflexively jumped back as the two fighters suddenly burst into
action, moving so swiftly it was hard to tell that Tham had launched the
initial attack. Kan, on the other hand, could tell from Tham's movements
that he was holding back, still testing the waters of Bajin's might.
     Morty contently lit a cigar as he watched the battle slowly escalate,
the attacks becoming more involved and intense. He glanced sideways at
the Twins. They had a chillingly smug smile on their faces, waiting for
something. Turning his attention back to the duel, he started to get an
idea as to what that might be.
     One of Bajin's long legs snapped out at blinding speed, seeming to
stretch beyond the normal restraints of the physical form, catching Tham
before he could block it. The kick slammed into his shoulder, knocking him
back a few inches and landing him heavily on his back. Tham's years of
expertise kicked in, allowing him to instinctively roll to the side, not only
placing him back on his feet, but also preventing him from backing up
over the boundary of the arena, which was dangerously close.
     His senses were still returning when Bajin was already upon him,
arriving remarkably fast thanks to his jumping legs. Again, Tham's
movements were driven by intuition more than conscious thought. He
drew in a deep breath and began a lightning-quick series of cross-strikes
as he pressed forward, driving Bajin back towards the center of the ring.
Kan recognized it as a maneuvering tactic, allowing Tham to distance
himself from the border. She realized, as Tham already had, that as long
as Tham was close to those lines, all Bajin needed was one direct kick to
knock Tham out of the ring.
     But the move was not without its price. The hectic motion by the
body had spent Tham's breath as soon as he had caught it, leaving him still dazed,
not quite recovered from the initial kick. This placed him back on the
defensive almost immediately as Bajin stepped up the pace, recognizing
the weakness Tham was inadvertently displaying.
     Having enough presence of mind to beware of being driven back,
Tham was able to keep his defensive maneuvers in a circular pattern.
Still, it was clear that Bajin clearly had this fight in control at the
moment. Watching them, Chip was reminded of when he and Dale had
spotted Tham and Kan in the midst of their duel back at the Ivy Crest. How
utterly different they seemed now. Neither of the opponents were smiling.
The movements and pacing were far more aggressive. He was sure Tham
and Bajin were going through some of the exact same routines, but the
driving force behind them had entirely changed the mood which was generated. 
Looking back on Tham and Kan's duel now, Chip could see how
completely harmless and fun it really was. While this....
     Chip shuddered involuntarily.
     The jerboa's long tail whipped to and fro behind it as it continued
its advance on Tham. Bajin knew it had Tham outclassed at this point.
The mouse hadn't had a moment to catch his deep breath, and was tiring
quickly. As if to prove this point, Tham's last block left his left flank
nicely unguarded, which Bajin quickly capitalized on. Tham swiftly kicked,
but this time the force came in and around, rather than straight out. The
impact lurched the mouse forward, right into Bajin's incoming backfist.
The combo sent Tham spiraling to the floor with a grunt, face down.
     The majority of the crowd watched in shock as Bajin stepped back,
waiting for Tham to regain his feet.
     "Why doesn't he finish him off?" Morty asked in wonder.
     "Please-ease, Mister Morty-ty," the Twins said patronizingly, "we
are not without-out honor-or. It is most uncouth-outh in these duels-uels
to attack an opponent-ent who is down-own."
     Morty glanced between them and the deul, then sighed and
shrugged as he took another puff from his cigar. "It's your show, ladies."
     Kan bit her lip as she watched her love slowly climb to his feet,
weary and hurt. He was already winded, and no doubt injured now, while
he had failed to deliver a single blow to Bajin in return. Her saving hope
was that it is not important who is the first to fall in a duel, but rather,
who is the last one standing.
     As he began to position himself back into a defensive crouch, Tham
closed his eyes. He sought out the burning pain in his side and face, and
did as his father had taught him; channel his *ki* into the wounds,
soothing the pain and suppressing the discomfort. His meditative band-aid 
applied, Tham's eyelids snapped open. He nodded once, and again
Bajin was on him before him knew it, blade whirling.
     Tham's defensives were simpler, operating more on the duck-and-dodge 
technique than any real blocking. That would have weakened his
arms more than he would have cared for. Bajin maintained a quick pace,
but Tham knew the jerboa was merely waiting until a ripe opportunity
presented itself before the attacks truly kicked into high gear. If that
happened, Tham would be in serious trouble. Especially if it started with
another of those kicks.
     Perhaps from his wooziness, or perhaps from something within,
Tham hit upon a dangerous, but radical, idea.
     Bajin continued to press the attack as the seconds mounted up at a
phenomenal rate, until Tham blocked an overhead chop.
     Perfect.
     Bajin's right leg fired out, too fast to follow, solidly connecting
with Tham's wide-open midsection. Tham doubled over with a grunt, but
since he had purposely set himself up for such a shot, he was prepared. In
the split-second before Bajin's muscular leg snapped back, Tham
clamped both arms around it and stiffened his spine.
     Bajin only had time to blink before he realized that Tham had
hitched a ride back in, complete with an extended hand to act as a natural
battering ram, digging deep into Bajin's own abdomen. The jerboa bent
over slightly at the impact, and Tham quickly planted his feet and
straightened up with a snap, bashing the back of his head into the lowered
jaw of Bajin.
     Both warriors stumbled back, but Tham had braced himself for it,
and, still holding Bajin's leg, he spun the jerboa like a top. As Bajin
completed the spin, Tham swung his hands, clenching the pommel of the
Time Blade, in the opposite direction. The two-handed fist connected
with Bajin's face so forcefully that it knocked the jerboa backwards three
inches.
     Panting heavily, Tham retreated a few steps to the center of the arena.
Bajin groaned as he regained his feet, bleeding from the mouth. He took
a few faltering steps, but then gained control over the haze from the blow,
and steadily took his place opposite Tham.
     This was far from over.
     The playing field leveled a bit now, both Tham and Bajin didn't
seize the attack at first. Tham had managed to regain his breath, but he
was still at a disadvantage. Bajin still had a longer reach and
stronger force behind his blows, even in his currently injured state. Bajin,
on the other hand, was reappraising Tham; the mouse had surprised him
once. Being astonished a second time would be disastrous. For if Tham
didn't kill him, the Twins surely would.
     Foxglove suddenly realized she was holding her breath. Stealing a
glance around, she saw everyone else was, as well. She shuddered as she
remembered that this was the kind of thing that her Dale went through
every day. Maybe not as straightforward as Tham's ordeal, but he risked
his life time and time again for others. Silently, she crept up behind him
and wrapped her wings around him, hugging him tightly. Both to
reassure herself with his presence, and to help calm her nerves about
watching a friend's possible execution. How did the Rangers do it?
     In his own mind, Dale was wondering the exact same thing as he
held Foxglove's wings close to him.
     Once again, the eerie stillness was shattered by the clashing of
katanas, each seeking to reach past the metal and strike home at the
vulnerable flesh beyond. Back and forth, the combatants fought for
control of the match, watching for openings while keeping their own
shortcomings in check.
     After a sudden feint to the left, Bajin dodged back into Tham's
latest strike, managing to deflect the Time Blade with the hilt of his own
sword, and using it to push up and out against Tham. Bajin's own heavier
frame remained relatively in place, while Tham's smaller form was
pitched up a few centimeters. Having the upper hand in that moment of
time, Bajin snapped his blade around twice in an X-strike, in front of
Tham's chest. The katana was too fast to follow, but the twin spray of
blood, acting as a grisly set of bookends, signaled that the jerboa had
indeed struck home on both swipes.
     Tham crumpled to the floor, the Time Blade clamped tightly in his
fist in a dead man's grip.
     Outside, a church bell began to toll.
     Too stunned to do anything more than watch, the Rangers,
Foxglove, and the storm in a bottle by the name of Kan could only gape
as Bajin stepped up to drive the killing stroke home. Wasting no time, the
jerboa cut downwards with a vicious overhead chop, and sparks flew as
his katana clanged against the metal floor.
     *...BONG...*
     Having shifted to the side, Tham was too far gone to feel anything
more besides his own grueling determination to at least see his
ancestral katana set free from the Twins' grasp. He lifted his feet up and
around in a half-flip, half-kick, knocking Bajin squarely in the chest.
     *...BONG...*
     Bajin stumbled back. Tham landed on his feet, and made one last,
fluid motion.
     The Time Blade sank cleanly up to its hilt in Bajin's chest, snapping
back out as smoothly as if it were being unsheathed.
     *...BONG...*
     Bajin slumped to the floor, followed a second later by Tham. Dark
stains began to form around them, oozing from their chest wounds. 
     *...BONG...*
     In the starlight gently shining from the heavens above, the two
katanas lay where their users had dropped them; lifeless and inert.
     It was 4 A.M. In a sickeningly twisted sense of irony, Kan
remembered that the Japanese word for "four" was the same as "death".
     The oppressive silence lasted no more than a second, but seemed to
stretch out for an eternity. Everyone, even Morty and his most uncultured
followers, could think of nothing to say. What could be said? The sheer
suddenness of Bajin and Tham's deaths left everyone shell-shocked for
that same brief slice of history. Good and evil, male and female, young
and old; all of them were merely kinfolk at that moment. Part of the
living, rather than the dead.
     When the second ended, however, it did so with finesse.
     Kan's shriek reverberated off of the metal walls so loud that even
the night watchman on the decks above glanced about in confusion.
     She, as well as the Rangers and Foxglove, were next to Tham in an
instant.
     "Pleasedon'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdieohpleasepleasepleasenonononono...." Kan
whispered hysterically as she gently rocked back and forth while cradling
Tham's head in her lap, her hands uselessly smoothing out his fur and
hair as if it would somehow help.
     "Kan," Foxglove said, quietly but pointedly enough to get the
distraught bride's attention, "he's *not* dead. I can hear his heart still
beating."
     "...not dead..." Tham weakly echoed from his supine position.
     "See?" Foxglove said again to Kan, hoping that the heart stayed
beating. Tham was losing blood fast.
     "...no..." Tham coughed. "...Bajin..."
     "What about him?" Dale asked, glancing back over at the fallen
jerboa. His own comrades were gathered around him, as well.
     Kan didn't hear any of it. She was too busy ripping her sleeves off
and shaping them quickly into crude bandages. Despite her trembling
hands, she expertly fastened them around Tham's cuts to try and stem the
bleeding. The slices weren't as deep as she feared -- no internal organs
had been hit, she didn't think -- but they were long, and would drain
Tham's body of blood before too long unless they were properly patched
up.
     "...not dead..." Tham repeated, trying to force out his message
through the veil of unconsciousness hovering just above him.
     "I think he means Bajin isn't dead, either," Chip finally pieced
together.
     "What?" Monterey balked. "He was run through, mate! Right
before our own peepers!"
     "I know, but--Gadget?" Chip spun around when he realized that
Gadget wasn't with them. He spotted her exactly where he thought she'd
be; in the cluster surrounding Bajin, tending to the jerboa's wound.
     Not caring about formalities anymore, Chip roughly shoved his way
through the crowd and knelt beside her.
     "Gadget?" he asked delicately, not bothering to elaborate on the
question.
     "He's alive," she replied, not taking her eyes from Bajin. She had
taken the emergency gauze wrappings she carried in her pocket and was
trying to dress his wounds, but she didn't have enough to cover both the
entry and the exit wounds. She looked up at Chip, worried.
     "But how?" Chip stated in amazement. "Tham... we saw... I
mean...."
     "I'm not entirely sure," Gadget interjected, "but I think Tham
missed Bajin's vital organs. What dropped Bajin was a system shock, and
now the loss of blood is keeping him down."
     Chip could only stare in wonder at Bajin's body, which was in fact
still breathing, although it was barely discernable. The idea that Tham
could have missed--
     "I need more cloth," Gadget said desperately, returning Chip's
focus back to the emergency before them. "But I'm not sure if this will be
enough for either of them." She stubbornly wiped a forming tear away
and removed her belt, trying to piece together something more efficient.
"And even so, this will only buy him a few minutes. Both of them need to
get to a clinic of some sort. And fast."
     "Please-ease," the Twins sharply cut in from the chairs high above,
their synced voices washing down over the groups on the floor. Their
tone was without mirth or pity. "The contest-test is over-ver."
     Dale gulped. He had forgotten all about the Twins and Morty.
     "Tham has defended-ended his right to claim-aim ownership of the
Time-ime Blade-ade."
     "He has?" Morty asked, looking down at Bajin and Tham. It looked
like a tie, as far as he could tell.
     "He was the last-ast one standing-ing, Mister Morty-ty." They
sniffed indignantly as they smoothly left their chairs and walked off to
their private section of the cargo hold. "You may leave-eave with the
katana-ana, Rescue Rangers-gers. Do so quickly-ly. Good night-ight."
     Without so much as a word of sympathy, they disappeared into the
shadows of the crates with their entourage. Morty and his own gang,
however, remained in the area, watching the drama play out.
     "We can't move both of 'em," Monterey grumbled. "Only Foxy
could move one, and even then, we don't know where to go."
     Zipper frowned as he nodded with Monterey's assessment. Unlike
human hospitals, animal clinics were difficult to track down. Most
hospitals had their own rodent subculture, but nobody in the group was
familiar enough with the docks to know where the nearest one might be.
     "Do not worry about Bajin," one of the Twins' servants said. It was
a cat, one of Bajin's comrades who had first come out to check on the
fallen jerboa. "He will be cared for here. We have our own medics within
our ranks."
     Chip wasn't entirely too trusting. "If you're just going to let him die
after we leave, then at least let us try and save him, and tell the Twins that
he was thrown overboard or something."
     But the cat looked offended at such an accusation. "I beg your
pardon, but we do not let our own die. You watch after your own, Ranger,
and let us care for ours." With that, he deftly scooped up Bajin from the
floor and carried him off with the rest of the animals who had been gathered
around the fallen warrior.
     Gadget looked at Chip, doubt touching her features. "You think
he's telling the truth?"
     Chip sighed and shrugged. "No way for us to find out. We'll have
to hope for the best, and concentrate on Tham."
     "But where do we take him?" Gadget glanced back over at the
mouse, who still had Kan hunched protectively over him. She was
whispering, but whether it was reassurance to Tham or a prayer to her
ancestors, Gadget couldn't tell.
     "Excuse me?"
     Everyone except for the betrothed couple jumped at this new voice.
A large, dark raven stepped out from the back of the audience chamber.
He was wearing a bowler and a striped vest, and was smiling at them in a
manner which he seemed to think was disarming.
     "Perhaps I can be of assistance?" he chuckled.
     "How?" Chip queried.
     "I know a few things about the surrounding area. There's a small
animal clinic not too far from here, only a few minutes as I would fly."
     "Wait, you're offering to carry Tham there?"
     The raven nodded. "It'd be quicker than trying to direct her on how
to get there," he nodded to Foxglove, "and what's more, I can carry the
rest of you off of this barge at once, so you don't have to worry about
being double-crossed by either the Twins or Morty on your way out."
     On the other side of the chamber, Morty frowned as he heard that.
He knew he was a cad -- heck, he took a great deal of personal
satisfaction in it -- but he wasn't *that* bad.
     Most would disagree with him, but those that did had since gone
on to their eternal reward, conveniently enough.
     "Who are you?" Chip finally asked. Whoever this guy was, he knew
a lot more than some average crow on the street, and since this was a
cargo hold, he couldn't just have been passing by.
     "I gave you a choice," the raven replied, seemingly ignoring Chip's
question. "If you want to go over my resume with me, we could banter
back and forth on it for a while, but by then your friend here will be
dead."
     "Fine," Chip snapped. "Let's go." For the second time tonight, Chip
was forced to put his reservations on the back burner in order to act on an
opportunity. This could just be a good Samaritan, or a sadistic creature
looking to toy with them before eating them in a secluded area. This type
of gambling made the card variety pale in comparison.
     And the others wondered why he had never had an interest in visiting
Vegas.
     Not wasting a moment more, the Rangers and their mysterious
benefactor quickly moved Tham onto the large bird's back; the raven's
offer thus revealed a couple of extra benefits. First, Tham could remain
on his back, helping to keep the bleeding down. Secondly, Kan was able
to stay by his side throughout the entire trip. The rest of the Rangers
clambered aboard, except for Dale. Foxglove Air was the only way to fly
for him.
     Outside of the side, Carolyn watched through her binoculars as
Hedgerow silently flew out from the ship and deeper inland, not even
signaling to her. As she spotted the Rangers on his back and Foxglove
flying alongside, though, she wasn't greatly surprised. Whatever had
transpired within the bowels of the cargo ship was apparently over, and
she hadn't been privy to any of it.
     Grumbling about a worthless evening, the water vole didn't even
bother to try and cover up the binoculars as she left.
     "Whatever," she absent-mindedly mumbled.

                         *     *     *

     Tham could see, at first, a vision of light. A blank white, but not
entirely featureless, with various small shadows in it, lending it a
dimensionality. Moving his head down, he could see six indiscernible
blobs, plus a seventh one, much smaller than the others. His ears were
ringing slightly, but it seemed that the forms were excited to see him, and
were drawing closely together; even apparently merging. Slowly, his eyes
focused and his ears tuned.
     Which was somewhat unfortunate.
     Arms draped over each other, the Rangers, Foxglove, and Kan,
proceeded to sway while  they sang:

                     I don't need pleasure
                       I don't feel pain
     If you were to knock me down I'd just get up again....

     Tham blinked groggily from his small bed. "What?" he finally
managed.
     The group laughed and bounded over to him.
     "Happy, uh, Not-Being-Dead Day, Tham!" Dale cheerily
announced.
     "How're you feeling?" Gadget asked, but Tham's full attention was
being monopolized by Kan, who was giving her love a long, lingering
kiss. When they finished, Gadget repeated the question.
     "Much better, now," Tham said, somewhat raspy, but he smiled
fully at Kan, clasping her hand in his own. "How long have I been out?"
     "Quite a while," Foxglove answered, yawning a bit. "It's almost
noon."
     "Good," Tham nodded. "Then I can still make the wedding."
     "Now hold on, Mr. An Tham Sun," Kan said sternly. "I don't want
you taking any unneeded risks in your condition. You'll stay right here in
this clinic until those with far more medical knowledge say it's okay for
you to go home."
     Considering Kan's boiling hatred over Morty's disruption of the
rehearsal, her willingness to forego the actual ceremony itself for now
stunned most of the Rangers, but Tham wasn't shaken by it. He knew his
fiance better than that.
     "Wait," he looked around in question. "Where am I, exactly?"
     "In a bed, sitting up," Dale was unable to resist supplying.
     After Chip bonked Dale, Monterey explained. "Yer at a little ol'
animal clinic called Our Lady of the Furry Flesh. Not as big as most
hospitals, but they had enough supplies to stabilize ya and get yer system
back in runnin' order."
     "We had a lift from a raven," Kan went on, sitting on Tham's
bed, "although none of us had ever met him before. He knew where this
place was, and offered to take us there."
     "Didn't ask for anything in return, either," Gadget said with a smile.
"Just said something like, 'That show beat professional wrestling'.
Whatever that means." She shrugged.
     "Hey, Tham," Monterey piped up. "That reminds me. How in the
name of the burnin' outback didya manage to make that last sword strike
of yours? I mean, Bajin was still alive!"
     Tham slowly shifted to a sitting position, which turned out to be
more difficult than he would have guessed, but Kan gently aided him
without hesitation.
     "It's not easy to do, I'll say that much," he started. "The purpose of
a mercy strike isn't to hit a forgiving spot, so much as miss all the
deadly ones. My aim was guided by my father's spirit, I could tell," he
added softly, looking off in the distance.
     "Huh?" Dale skillfully prodded for clarification.
     Tham shook his head to clear the haze around his mind. "Sorry. But
a lot of things after those near-lethal strikes of his are difficult to recall
with any clarity. I managed to hold onto my focus, but that was all. I
didn't even see anything aside from Bajin. We could have been in the
middle of a lightning storm for all I knew."
     "Not unless you lopped his head off," Dale quietly snickered until
Chip bopped him again. Foxglove frowned slightly at Chip; she thought
that particular one was funny.
     But why? Zipper's posture asked.
     "Why not kill him outright?" Tham repeated aloud, leaning against
the headboard. "I'm... not sure, to be honest. Like I said, after his two
slashes across my chest, everything becomes a bit unclear, as I hope you
never have to experience."
     The Rangers shuddered a bit; each of them had come close to that
same state at some point. They didn't like to dwell on those kind of "what
if's."
     "Perhaps I felt he didn't deserve to die. He acted honorably during
the duel. And he was only fighting as his loyalty to the Twins dictated."
Tham sighed. "Or maybe I just don't have it in me to kill another
creature, even in self-defense."
     "Hey, mate," Monterey grinned, "that's somethin' to be proud of,
not ashamed of."
     "I just hope the Twins are as merciful," Tham muttered, to which
Chip and Zipper glumly nodded.
     "You've done your part," Kan assured him gently. "And at least
Bajin has another chance to serve them, rather than being dead."
     "Death is the greatest service one can give to one's lord, Kan,"
Tham rebuked gravely. "He may feel I robbed him of that honor."
     "Then it's his problem," Kan replied instantly, with a smile. "Look,
Tham, I'm too happy right now to properly argue with you. If you want to
debate it further, then jot it down and we can start as soon as the
honeymoon's over. Promise. Right now, we have more important things
to do."
     Tham blinked. They were stuck in a clinic. "Like what?"
     Kan merely leaned over and planted her lips softly on his own. The
rest of the group would have guessed that they would have had to part
within a few seconds for air, but the couple were able to obtain oxygen
through their noses while their mouths remained locked together. As the
embrace wore on with no signs of a rest break, the remainder of the
room's occupants got the distinct impression that a discreet withdrawal
would be in order.
     As they left, Dale merrily sang a jingle: "So kiss a little longer...."
     A few moments later, when the couple finally drew apart, Tham
noticed that Kan was trembling.
     "Kan?"
     She gently nestled her head against his chest, causing him to flinch
from the slight pain as his wounds were shifted about, but he said
nothing. Instead, he hugged her close. "What is it?"
     "I..." she swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I was so nervous
before today. About the marriage. About my life with you. I had spent so
many years alone, Tham, I wasn't sure if I really wanted to live with
someone for the rest of my life or not."
     "Commitment jitters," Tham chuckled softly. "We all get them."
     "But then when you decided to partake in that duel, and then when
you fell... I could have just died right there, Tham. I knew that I really did
want to make this commitment, and that perhaps I would never actually
get that chance. It was the most horrible feeling I ever had in my life."
She sniffled a bit as Tham gently stroked her long, silky hair down her
back.
     "It's all right now, though, is it not? Perhaps this was meant to be,
for you to come to grips with what it is you want."
     "You're more right than you know," she laughed in a tight, terse
manner. "Listen, Tham... uhm... I lied before."
     "You lied?"
     She closed her eyes and hugged him tightly. "My parents are alive.
At least I think they are. I don't know for sure. I--I ran away when I was a
kid."
     A pause as Tham let it sink in. But he didn't try to move her from
her position, draped over his chest and clinging for life to him. "Why?"
he finally asked.
     "They divorced when I was a child."
     Tham closed his eyes in understanding. He was well aware of how
divorce was still highly frowned-upon in certain remote areas of Japan. Kan had
come from a very traditional village, and for a couple to not only divorce,
but to do so when they already had a child -- it would have been a culture shock
for those people.
     He decided not to prod her on this aspect of it. "Why didn't you tell
me, Kan?"
     "I--I was afraid," she replied as she shivered. "I knew how much stock
you put in a family's honor, Tham. I was so scared that you would have
been upset or dishonored or angry that your fiance was just some
honorless waif--"
     "Stop it," he immediately chastised her. "This is no time for self-pity, 
Kan. Whatever has happened to you in the past has molded you into
the person you are now. I love you wholly, Kan. Your perfections and
your flaws. Any other way, and you would not be the person I wish to be
bound to for all eternity." He lightly rubbed her back. "Do you want to go
back?"
     Kan was quiet as she thought, her fears draining out at her fiance's
comforting and relaxing touch. "Yes," she said at length. "But what if
they turn me away, Tham? *I* was the one to leave them. *I* was the
one to bring dishonor on them by refusing to face the pressures of the
village."
     "You were young."
     "I was a coward," she responded, the tears started to spill out.
"What I did was a horrible, selfish act, Tham. I'm sorry...."
     "Shhhhh...." he gently rocked her comfortingly. "What you did was
also what eventually brought us together, Kan. I won't deny that many
will disagree with what you did, but it's an understandable act, and
certainly a forgivable one. Running away is something a great deal of us
are tempted to do. You are not alone, Kan."
     "But what if my parents don't think so? What if they hate me for
it?"
     Tham laughed lightly. "My beloved Kan, think; if your parents were
willing to forego tradition to get divorced in the first place, why would
they not be willing to forego shunning a long-lost daughter who returned
home?"
     Kan bit her lip. She had never thought about that.
     "I shall catch you if you fall, Kan," Tham quietly whispered to her
as he pressed her close. "Do not fear the future, for I am with you
always."
     Safely tucked within her love's arms, Kan sighed contently. And
believed.

                          *     *    *

     "If the go-betweens are ready?" the Shinto priest asked politely. Dale
smiled as Foxglove nodded eagerly. Stepping forward, Dale withdrew a
small piece of paper from the inside pocket of his stylish chartreuse sport
coat. He unfolded it carefully, stepping up between Kan and Tham. Dale
took moment to glance at the couple with a grin. Tham's own formal
wear was a bit drab for Dale's tastes, mainly being black with accents of
white. Kan's own attire was more fun, however, consisting of a large,
heavy kimono, white with red flecks speckled over it. She also wore a
grandiose black wig, complete with long hair pins sticking through the
back weaves of hair. They waited patiently for Dale, watching each other
out of the corners of their eyes.
     Dale cleared his throat as he looked over the vows once more. Kan
and Tham had written them, but Dale hadn't been expecting all of the big
words. Fortunately, Foxglove had the foresight to have Dale work on his
enunciation skills ahead of time, so he wasn't completely unarmed for
this battle of wits with a sheet of paper.
     "Upon entering this blessed union of marriage," Dale read, "An
Tham Sun and Kan Sune, you are pledging to each other your loyalty,
devotion, and love, for both now and all eternity. Together, your souls
will be as one. And it is as one that you shall face new challenges, endure
hardships, and celebrate victories. Honor those that have gone before
you, and honor those that will follow in your bloodline. As your ancestors
watch over you on this most joyous occasion, it is asked that you seal this
union with a mutual act of bonding."
     Dale squinted at the last line, making sure he had read it correctly.
"Whatever that means," he mumbled to himself, then glanced up to see
the couple engaged in a passionate kiss.
     "Oh," he blinked. "That'll work."
     "The cups, please," the priest motioned to the Miko. The three
nuptial cups were brought over on a small stand, then filled with sake.
Kan and Tham each sipped three times from each of the cups, signifying
the union into which they were now entering with each other. The stand was taken
away as Dale stepped forward and handed Kan's ring to Tham. Originally,
Dale had toyed with the idea of using his old secret decoder ring as a joke, but
everyone else -- even Foxglove -- had threatened him with a bonk.
     Tham took Kan's hand and slipped the ring gently yet snugly into
place on Kan's finger. Kan took a moment to beam at him before turning
to Foxglove, who handed her Tham's ring. With equal reverence, she
adorned Tham's own finger with the simple but elegant golden band,
taking a moment to lightly brush her slender fingers over his hand as she
finished. Tham's slight shortness of deep breath was not due to his
injuries.
     "And now if the newly married couple will make their sacred
offering to the spirits, the ceremony will be concluded," the priest warmly
informed them. Taking his wife's hand in his own, Tham and Kan
stepped into the inner sanctum of the shrine, while the others waited
behind.
     "Golly," Gadget sighed, clasping her hands together next to her
cheek and tilting her head dreamily to the side, "isn't it romantic?"
     Chip grinned, stealing a glance at her. She was wearing a kimono,
herself, out of respect for the customs of Kan and Tham, but it was easy
to guess that under that heavy fabric were her trusty and sturdy coveralls.
She would probably drop the kimono during one of Kan's own clothing
changes, once the formality of the ceremony was over. Chip couldn't care
less; with her glowing look of absolute angelical happiness beaming from
her delicate features, she always outshone her wardrobe.
     "Too right, Gadget-luv," Monterey sniffled happily, getting slightly
choked up.
     A thought struck Gadget, and she turned to look at him, a bemused
smile glowing. "Monty?"
     "Yeah, luv?"
     "Do you think Dad's watching now?"
     Monty chuckled and cast his eyes heavenward. "Oh, I'm bettin'
he's got ringside seats to this one, luv."
     Foxglove, who was once again imitating a cloak on Dale, giggled as
she stroked the chipmunk's ear. "Well, cutie, you did a really good job as
a go-between. Read those words like they were poetry on the page," she
cooed.
     "Awww, I just did the reading," Dale blushed slightly as he
adjusted his day-glo orange bow-tie. "Tham and Kan did the actual
writing of it."
     Actually, Zipper motioned, we can start calling them the Suns now.
     "Golly, that's right!" Gadget laughed. "I like that. The Suns."
     "Kan has the temper for one, I'll admit," Chip noted jokingly. "And
they certainly were radiant, weren't they?"
     Everyone agreed, except for Dale. "Isn't that what's left over after a
nuke?"
     "That's 'radioactivity', cutie," Foxglove corrected.
     "Ah, close enough," Dale smiled. "In either case the people are
glowing."
     Nobody could find fault with that comparison.
     Returning to the group, the Suns joined the Rangers and Foxglove
as several cups were passed out, and filled with sake. Everyone raised
their drinks in respect to each other, and sipped as one. Since none of the
group were big fans of any alcoholic beverage, it was just a respectful sip,
of course.
     Dale, in particular, wished the rice wine really *was* more like
minestrone soup; he could chug that 'till the cows came home.
     In the ceremonial hall, outside the small shrine, one of the shorter
guests was displaying his even shorter patience.
     "What're they doin' in there, mommy?" Henry looked up at his
mother, once again, for the answers. Mommies knew everything.
     To Janice's credit, she worked hard at keeping that image up.
"They're performing the actual marriage ceremony, honey," she
explained. "They'll be out when it's complete."
     "Why're they in there?"
     "Because that's the tradition of the bride and groom. Part of their
heritage."
     "Why?"
     "Because your mother says so."
     "Oh."
     Janice left out a deep breath of relief. That response had to be the
most perfect phrase ever devised in the English language.
     Next to her at the table, Skip glanced over at the doctor, seated a
few tables back. "I dunno, it just seems weird."
     "Hmm?"
     "If Tham is in bad enough shape to need a doctor in the
congregation, shouldn't he be in the hospital?"
     Janice turned to look at the doctor as well, and returned the smile he
gave her. From the doctor's point of view, he was turning into something
of a celebrity; everyone kept stealing glances of wonder at him.
     "Gadget told me that Tham's cuts were mostly surface wounds,"
Janice said as she turned back around. "I guess he didn't want to
inconvenience anyone, and figured that he was well enough to make it
through the actual ceremony, at least. It's not like he'll be doing backflips
and attack routines during it."
     Skip managed to successfully stifle a laugh. "Before the reception
encounter, I might have agreed."
     Janice had to grant him that, but looking over at the access ports the
gangsters had arrived through -- now securely nailed shut -- she dared to
be optimistic.
     With good reason, too. The hall had been cleaned up and reset for
the occasion. While it was true they had lost an amenity here and there,
the majority of items had survived unscathed, thanks in large part to
Foxglove's airborne pick-up and delivery service during the initial fight.
The tables were now modestly filled with friends and family of the
marrying couple, as well as the Rangers. She didn't know most of them
that well, but Henry was getting along rather well with Tim's daughters,
and any adult function where her son was able to have fun got four stars
in her book.
     Some movement caught her attention, and she looked over just as
the small crowd came out from the shrine. Dale stepped up before the
gathered guests, rubbing a hand over his pink and purple paisley vest.
     "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced as he looked out over the
small group. And, to give Dale credit, he was able to resist yelling out
"Are you ready to rruuuuummmmmbbbbllle?!?"
     Instead, what he *did* announce was: "It's my greatest honor and
stuff to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. An Tham Sun!" The small crowd
in the hall applauded fiercely for the couple as they stepped out to greet
everyone before the reception officially began.
     The first order of business was the tossing of the bouquet, wherein
Kan leveled the playing field for all participants:
     "Now remember," she said with a grin, pointedly looking at
Foxglove. "No flying is allowed on this!"
     "Oh shoot!" the foiled bat pouted.
     The single females in the crowd gathered at the back of the dance
floor as Kan took her place at the front. Turning her back to the ladies,
she wound up and pitched the bouquet over her back, in a high and
graceful arc. It lightly floated through the air, teasing before it deftly
swooped down and came to land -- almost as if it were meant to be -- in
the hands of a *very* surprised mouse.
     "Golly," Gadget said, blinking at the bouquet, "I guess this means
Henry is going to have a stepfather soon, huh?"
     Janice chuckled nervously as she lightly turned the bouquet around
in her hands. "Looks like it," she finally stated with a smile. She glanced
over at her son, who was too busy eyeing the cake to care what Mommy
was up to."I just hope my future hubby likes chasing people on a sugar
rush."
     "Are you talking about Henry or yourself?" Foxglove asked with a
grin.
     "Hmmm, I plead the fifth," Janice said wisely, fluttering her
eyelashes innocently.
     Rounding up the single males in the crowd seemed to be a much
more difficult task. Most claimed to be too tired or didn't want to "take
the chance away from some other lucky fella". All stragglers, however,
were pushed into position by either friends or hopeful dates.
     Twirling Kan's garter smoothly around his forefinger, Tham coolly
eyed the crowd with a knowing grin, as if decided who the "lucky" victim
would be. Everyone in the group gulped. Tham remained like this for
several seconds, just letting the fear build, then without warning turned
around and snapped it like a slingshot over his shoulder, sending it into
the huddled group without warning.
     Natural instincts to dive for safety conflicted with desires to not
look like a complete coward, freezing the men in place, like a deer caught
in the headlights. The garter effortlessly sailed into their midst, lightly
landing with style on the nose of a most distressed chipmunk.
     "Well, well, well," Chip chuckled. "I guess the pied piper might be
leading a single mouse down the aisle soon, eh?"
     Skip managed a nervous laugh as he snatched the garter off his
nose, but didn't bother trying to say anything.
     Aside from that isolated nerve-rattling incident, it was an extremely
relaxing fete, and considering the reception, much welcomed by all. Skip
and his band -- the Skipped Beats -- played live music for the first half of
the party, then switched over to the CD carousel player Skip had rigged
up. The stack of CD's he planned to use were neatly stored in a CD
organizer, allowing him to handle his DJ responsibilities solo while the
rest of the band ate and logged some miles on the dance floor.
     As the night drew to a close, most of the guests dispersed, until it
was merely the Rangers, the Suns, Foxglove, and Skip.
     "Well, my friends," Skip announced skillfully over the small P.A.,
"it's time for the last dance of the night. So, if I could have the illustrious
and decorated Kan and Tham out on the dance floor, we have a very
special song for the newlyweds."
     The chirstened Suns stepped to the center of the dance floor, a
single spotlight highlighting them as the other lights were dimmed.
     A single, strong tenor sang clearly from the speakers.

                                Oh-hoo-hoo-hooooooo....

     Tham and Kan sighed as one, joining hands to prepare for a slow,
meaningful dance.

                                Oh-hoo-hoo-hooooooo.....

     Gadget glanced shyly at Chip, hoping he might be interested in one
more dance before this magical evening was over.

                                Oh-hoo-hoo-hooooooo....

     But Chip was currently staring in shock at Skip. The DJ grinned
broadly and winked. Starting to laugh, Chip rested his head against his
hand.

                                Oh-hoo-hoo-hooooooo....

     Foxglove thought the song sounded particularly heavenly thus far,
but when she turned to Dale for a dance, she blinked in astonishment as
she saw him bolting from the dance floor, hands clapped over his mouth
and shoulders shaking heavily as he tried to keep his laughter from
bursting.

                        Everybody was Kung-Fu Fighting!

     The Suns stopped, and looked over at Skip with a quizzical look.
He smiled encouragingly at them and gave them a thumbs-up.

                        Those kicks were fast as lightning!

     The Suns shrugged, and returned their attention to each other. It
was a challenge, but they could waltz to it.

                        In fact it was a little bit frightening!

     Chip offered Gadget his arm, and elegantly gestured to the dance
floor. Slipping her arm through his, she just giggled and went with the
flow. It would be a night to remember, that was definite.

                        But they fought with expert timing!

     And in the far corner of the hall, Foxglove had managed to
wangle Dale in, dragging him back to the other dancing couples. His
energy spent from his bout of laughter, Dale allowed himself to dance to
one of the greatest disco hits of the 1970's.
     And, by golly, he had a darn good time doing it, too.

                            Epilogue

     The sewer was a strange place to start a honeymoon, but Tham had
insisted. His wounds had been checked over by the clinic once more, and
while they still didn't like Tham assigning himself to an outpatient status,
they didn't have any way of stopping him. The sole reassurance they had
was that Kan had vowed to keep a very close watch on her husband. The
Rangers didn't doubt her for a minute, so why should the clinic?
     But it was more than just an aversion to being cooped up in a
sterile room in the clinic. Tham desired a full sense of closure to this
adventure. He and his wife had accompanied the Rangers through it from
the outset, and he felt that they needed to see it all the way through to the
last order of business: paying Sewer Al.
     Thus, once more the small group of heroes had gathered outside of
Sewer Al's dwelling far below the streets of man. The gloominess didn't
affect Tham this time around, the Time Blade strapped securely and
rightfully to his waist. He waited with dignity, more as an observer than
an active participant, with his wife and Foxglove for the Rangers to
return.
     They had entered the subway car, with the "polite" request made by
Sewer Al for the other three to wait outside; only the Rangers would be
privy to this discussion. Foxglove could have eavesdropped, if she had
really wanted to, but the look in Sewer Al's eyes had squarely put the fear
of God-Awfully-Big Carnivores in her, and she obediently waited on the
ground away from the car with the Suns.
     The wait was a long one, and the stillness, infrequently punctuated
by a drip or unexplained splashing, weighed heavy on the three lone
figures. Conversation was virtually non-existent, all thoughts
concentrating on what might be occurring behind those closed doors.
Were the Rangers in danger? Would they hit moral conflicts with Sewer
Al's price? And if so, how could they get around their word? Things
seemed grim for the five forthright heroes, indeed.
     At long last, some movement stirred within the range of the three
mammals sight, followed by the doors opening, and the Rangers hopping
out as they waved goodbye. Rather cheerfully, no less.
     "You have any problems, just let me know," Gadget called over her
shoulder.
     "Again, thank you, Rangers," Sewer Al replied from the doorway,
then looked over to Tham. "Oh, and before I forget," he deftly tossed a
small, rodent-sized book in a lazy arc over to Tham, who caught it deftly,
a questioning look on his face. Sewer Al didn't smile so much as smirk.
     "It came into my possession recently," the studious gator explained.
"I thought you might like to add it to your rapidly growing collection of
ancestral artifacts and knowledge concerning them."
     Checking the cover, Tham blinked at the title: Myths and Legends.
He quickly flipped to the inside, where he saw his clan's insignia drawn
clearly, marking it as his own copy. The copy which he thought he had
lost earlier in the week.
     He looked back up at Sewer Al with a raised eyebrow; clearly, he
was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Payment?" he inquired.
     "None," the huge librarian shrugged. He expertly adjusted his
spectacles as he turned and headed back into the subway car. "Consider
it... a wedding present."
     Apparently on their own, the doors swung shut, sealing off the
librarian's abode from the rest of the outside world.
     "Uhm, sweetie?" Foxglove finally asked. "What was that all about."
     "Oh, nothing much, Foxy," Dale replied. "Just paid off our debt, is
all."
     "If I may be so bold," Tham said delicately, "how?" He was still a
bit taken aback at the book, and the details of the possible path it may
have taken from his belongings back at the Ivy Crest to his hands now.
But he opted to disregard it for now, espeically as he doubted he would
enjoy the answers.
     "He just needed some help running some power and phone lines
down through the concrete and old walls to his place," Gadget smiled as
she answered the question of payment. "We could fit where he couldn't
reach."
     "But why?" Kan asked, puzzled.
     "Well, lass," Monterey chuckled, "let's just say you shouldn't be
surprised if ya see SewerAl.com someday."

                         *     *     *

     "All has gone according to plan, for the most part. The Twins
agreed to our partnership, and currently don't suspect a thing. With them
unwillingly supporting both the docks and Chinatown for us, the vast
resources within our ranks can be used to knock out some of the other
trouble spots in the city before worrying about stepping in and officially
taking charge of the Twins' operations here.
     "Incidentally, we did have a visit from those legendary pests, the
Rescue Rangers. This time, they were just after the Time Blade, and
didn't do anything to hinder our main goal. Nevertheless, the manner in
which they seem to turn up at the most inopportune moments is uncanny,
only upstaged by a typical plot hole in virtually any Hanna-Barbara series
of the late seventies. My advice is to keep a low profile for a while until
Fat Cat returns, as he probably has some worthwhile experience on the
matter, collected from his vast array of failures to permanently
dispose of them."
     Stripes lowered the letter and chuckled. Fat Cat had flicked his
claws out and was studying them intently, refusing to let the seething
anger he felt show at the blatant (and totally true) statement of his
inability to handle the Rangers permanently.
     "Methinks he doth protest too much...." he quietly growled.
     "Believe it or not, he paid you a compliment," Stripes said as he
leaned forward on his desk. "Morty doesn't make those often, trust me."
     The two crimelords were in Stripes' territory for the time being.
Stripes had already had the tour of Fat Cat's basic operations and city
culture, and now it was Fat Cat's chance to see how his new partner ran
things on his own turf.  Most of Fat Cat's operations were self-run; only
his personal "fun" projects and major upheavals required his personal
attention. The casino was being watched over by his numerous cronies,
mainly Bruno, Snout, and Hedgeforth. Mepps, Wart, and Mole didn't do much
besides ambulate, but they did that when he was there, too, so he wasn't
concerned with it. After all, he had been away for quite a while, now,
with no disasters.
     "Very well," he stated, pulling his claws back in. "I will admit that
his ability to pull off the sham on the Twins is impressive. Those two cats
would have skinned anyone who slipped up in the least."
     "Morty isn't about to give any 'Feel Good About Yourself'
speeches soon, but he knows how to get a job done." Stripes popped
another beef stick into his mouth. "That small base of power that we left
for him let him get a jump start on the competition. With the docks and
Chinatown no longer possible threats, we can pick and choose which
rival organization to wipe out first." He grinned sadistically as he ground
the beef stick between his rough and unyielding teeth, savoring the flavor
and texture of the pulverized meat.
     Fat Cat allowed himself a slick smile. "Yes, it is one of our
executive perks, isn't it?"

                         *     *     *
                                
     Jim glanced about as he pulled the delivery truck around through
the narrow streets of Stones City. He was used to the old and worn-out
feeling of this part of town by now. Some of these buildings were close to
one hundred years old.  Still, most of them had been remodeled and
updated, at least as much as could be afforded. He parked in front of a
simple but stalwart apartment building, and took a moment to double-check 
to make sure he had all the packages for this place.
     One address in this building had a new occupant, as far as Jim
could guess, as he had made dozens of deliveries to it in the past couple
of weeks. Almost one every day, and quite often several at once. He
walked up the stairs and buzzed through to the manager's office on the
intercom.
     "Yeah?" Carl's voice came through.
     "It's Jim, Carl," Jim announced. "Got some packages here."
     "Let me guess," Carl's tone said with a sigh. "All for 115?"
     "You got it," Jim laughed. "And let me guess; the guy's not there.
Right?"
     "He never is. Sometimes I think a ghost lives there. Hang on."
     Jim waited for a minute until Carl came around from the office to
the main door, buzzing him in. They walked down the hallway to the end
apartment, #115.
     "I'm still kinda surprised," Jim said conversationally as Carl
unlocked the door. "Him letting you unlock the door to put these
packages in here."
     Carl shrugged. "He doesn't want to leave them out in the hallway,
and is never around when the office is open. And as long as those money
orders with the extra fifty a month keep clearing, it's fine by me, really."
     "Money order?" Jim asked. "I thought you never saw the guy?"
     "I don't," Carl chuckled, then took another drag on his cigarette.
"They're those electronic kind. Come in the mail." He swung the door
open to the apartment.
     Jim stepped in and set the packages down just inside, but still
glanced around the apartment, on the off chance that this mysterious
occupant had picked up some new furniture. But no, it was still the same
sparse furnishings; a table, an easy chair, and a lamp. There might be more
in the back, but this was as far as the responsible delivery man was
supposed to go. Especially when the place gave him the creeps.
     "It's just weird, is all," he commented to Carl as the door was
closed and locked. "It's like nobody lives there."
     "As long as the money comes in on time and the neighbors don't
complain, I can live with it," Carl stated dryly. "Besides, the packages
you leave the day before are never there the next day, are they?"
     "True," Jim nodded. It was probably just this building. Old and
weathered. Made the imagination work overtime.
     Jim bid his goodbye to Carl as he left, hopped back in his small
truck, and started off.
     Carl's probably right, he thought to himself as he pulled away. I
mean, *somebody* is picking up all of those books from Amazon.com
and BarnesandNoble.com....

                              END

Disney's Chip 'n Dale's Rescue Rangers and all characters from the
series are [c] copyrighted by Disney and used here without permission.
All original characters are [c] copyrighted 1997-1999 by Matt Plotecher.
The song "China" was written and is [c] copyrighted 1991 by Tori Amos.
This story takes place in the Chip Noir Dale's Rescue Rangers (CNDRR)
universe, also [c] copyrighted 1997-1999 by Matt Plotecher. Distribute
freely, but do not modify. The Raccoon and Packrat Museum of Naturally
Glittery Things is [c] copyrighted by John Nowak and used with
permission.