Wedding Bells Will Chime -- Death Knells Shall Clang

                               By

                         Matt Plotecher

                            Part One
          Wedding Preparations -- Funeral Arrangements

     "Marriage."
     Dale gave a morose sigh.
     "Matrimony."
     Still nothing.
     "Wedding."
     He frowned slightly, wondering what it would take.
     "Commitment."
     The face looking back at him remained impassive.
     "Obey."
     A wide smile formed.
     "Obey. Oooobey. O-yay Obey!"
     Dale's reflection in the mirror grinned even wider. "It *does* sound
like pig-Latin," he observed to himself.
     Still, he was nervous all over. And why shouldn't he be? Wasn't he
in the place where a very important marriage would taking place? Wasn't
Foxglove in the room across the hall from his own? Wasn't his life
seemingly flashing before his eyes? Of course, he sort of enjoyed the last
bit, even rewinding and playing back some of his fonder memories as a
eligible, single, hunk of a 'munk.
     "Dale."
     Dale shot up like a bottle rocket, practically ricocheting off the
ceiling, but was saved from a painful landing by the person who had
spooked him, acting quickly and catching the descending chipmunk.
     "Dale, take it easy!" Chip advised his best friend.
     "Sorry, sorry," Dale managed as he dropped from Chip's arms and
back to his (somewhat shaky) legs. "I'm just nervous, is all. High-strung
and butterflies in the stomach, you know? Bad case of the jitters."
     "It would explain why you're acting bonkers, all right," Chip
agreed, managing not to grin.
     Dale turned back to the mirror. "Well c'mon Chip, whattaya expect
from me? This marriage business is just plain, well, spooky. I mean, I'm
starting to have second thoughts about it."
     "Impossible," Chip reasoned, "as you never had first thoughts about
it in the first place."
     "Hey," Dale frowned at his friend.
     "Dale," Chip couldn't hold back his smile anymore. "You're not the
one getting married, remember?"
     Dale blinked. "Oh yeah." He smiled sheepishly. "I guess I just got
caught up in the whole thoughts-before-the-marriage thing. Kinda neat, in
a way. Sorta like virtual reality."
     Chip chuckled. "Virtual matrimony, I suppose, but just relax. Being
an integral part of a marriage ceremony, even if it's not your own, can
give any single guy a bit of nervousness. Especially if he's hoping to
reach that state himself with a certain young lady." He gave Dale a
knowing look. "But just relax, like me."
     "Chip?" Gadget's voice politely asked.
     Chip actually *did* ricochet off the ceiling, landing with an
undignified grunt on his hindquarters.
     Gadget blinked. "Uhm, are you okay?"
     "Fine," Chip assured her, rubbing his rump while ignoring Dale's
muffled laugh.
     "I just wanted to let you know that Foxy and I will be heading out to
pick up the floral arrangements," Gadget explained. "So will you guys tell
Kan and Tham that? We'll be back in a little while." She glanced at Dale.
"Is he all right?" she asked, indicating the mumbling chipmunk before
her.
     Dale nodded, then glanced down at Chip with a smile. "Chip just
needs some time to 'relax', is all."
     "Heya cutie!" Foxglove cheerfully greeted Dale as she bounded to
the door.
     Dale landed next to Chip, also with a grunt.
     "We both need a moment," Chip explained to the two ladies
standing in the doorway, who were unsure as to why the chipmunks were
so jumpy. "We'll head up and tell them that you two are taking care of
that errand. I think Tham wanted to pick up a few more things today, too,
so we might be gone before you get back." Gadget and Foxglove smiled
and nodded as they left, closing the door behind them.
     Dale and Chip were still on the floor, so Dale casually rested his
elbow on his best friend's shoulder. "Well, Chipper, you think we'll ever
be any more relaxed when it's our own time?"
     "Not on your life, Dale," Chip grinned. "Not on your life."
     They regained their feet, brushing themselves off and privately
assuring themselves that they really weren't as shaken up as their
trembling indicated. They headed out through the men's dressing rooms,
down the hallway, and up the stairway in back which lead to the guest
rooms.
     Dale had to admit, it was really an impressive place. More so in the
fact that it was located in Stones City. He had thought that Kan and Tham
would have wanted to have the ceremony take place in Japan, their
homeland, but Kan explained that several Japanese couples had started
having their marriage take place overseas. Thus, they could start on the
honeymoon practically immediately after the wedding. Combining the
two also cut down on costs a bit, and gave the newlyweds more time to
spend in the honeymoon, rather than traveling. Kan and Tham planned to
head up further north, towards one of the large state forests and spend the
first week of their honeymoon there, in the comforting Western abode of
Mother Nature.
     The building everyone was staying at, known as The Ivy Crest, was
one of the very few actual "rodent" buildings -- that is, a building built by
the animal community, rather than just an extension or modification of a
pre-existing human dwelling. This one was near Chinatown, though its
actual history was long forgotten in the turbulent years that enshrouded
the territory of the crimelords, The Siamese Twins. Fortunately, the cat
overlords had been missing since Swarm's quondam occupation, making
this a prime opportunity for Kan and Tham's marriage in town.
     The actual structure itself was near the docks, down along the
waterfront, tucked away from the wandering eyes of humans in a midst of
various fishing shanties and harbormaster shacks. It stood about five feet
high, with another two feet acting as lower levels underground, and
stretched back into the actual rising ground level for over ten feet. It had
several purposes during its lifespan, but currently it was being used as a
hotel, and being in Chinatown, had adapted to providing services for its
numerous Oriental guests.
     One of those services -- which took place on a regular basis,
actually -- was as a wedding chapel. A traditional Shinto shrine had been
constructed in the heart of the hotel, made from timber and painted red
and black. Some very small saplings were even cared for within, acting 
as sacred objects for Shinto followers to tie straw ropes with zigzag 
papers -- shimenawa -- to in accordance with their religion. Kan and Tham 
were, naturally, delighted to hear of The Ivy Crest when Monterey Jack 
mentioned it to them in the Ranger's correspondence with the couple. 
After some negotiations with The Ivy Crest's management and staff, 
arrangements were made for the wedding, and the ceremony preparations 
went into full swing.
     Now, all the wedding guests were assembled in The Ivy Crest, as
well as various people who were part of the ceremony itself. The Rangers
still weren't quite clear on their roles, but Tham promised them it would
all be explained later today.
     "I was kinda surprised," Dale mentioned as he and Chip made their
way up the stairs leading to the engaged couple's rooms, "at how small
the guest list was. I guess I'm used to the idea of weddings usually being
big events."
     "Well, like you said," Chip replied, "they usually are. Some people,
though, don't even have a guest list -- they just have a legal document
signed in the mayor's office declaring them legally married. But the
actual ceremony is pretty elaborate, from what Tham told me. A
combination of the traditional and the Western influence." He shrugged
as they reached the top of the stairs and headed down the hallway.
     "Really?"
     "Yep. Happens a lot these days, I guess. Like the honeymoon, and
the exchange of rings. I guess Tham and Kan also had to make a few
modifications anyway, though, seeing as how neither of them has any
family."
     "Gee, that's kinda sad."
     "Yeah, it is, but this is a happy event, remember? A joyous occasion, 
my friend."
     The ringing of metal clashing on metal jolted Chip and Dale out of
their conversation. They glanced at each other in confusion, then tore
down the hall to the room it was coming from: Tham's.
     Throwing the door open, the chipmunks were astonished at what
they saw.
     Tham and Kan were in the middle of an intense sword fight with
each other, katanas flashing too fast to follow. Each moved with a fluid
grace that almost defied comprehension, threatening to put the
chipmunks into a trance. But the clamor of the swords waging war against
each other easily dispelled it.
     "Kan! Tham!" Chip shouted out in horror.
     "What're you--" Dale started.
     "Shut up!" Kan snapped at them, not taking her eyes from her
betrothed. "He doesn't need anymore advantages than he already has!"
     It was at this time that the two friends finally noticed that both of
the dueling contestants were smiling.
     "Why, my dear Kan," Tham chuckled easily as he continued to
press the attack, driving his fiance back. "Are you admitting that I am
your superior?"
     "Hah!" Kan laughed, but was still backing up. "You're just lucky
Chip and Dale distracted me for you to capitalize on."
     Tham shrugged, his sword tip always just missing his future bride
by no more than a millimeter, and would have struck home if Kan hadn't
been able to block each attack.
     Chip and Dale stood motionless in the doorway, gaping
unabashedly at the couple. Tham increased his attacks, slowly herding
Kan towards the corner. He brought his sword in for an overhead chop,
apparently aiming to spilt her head open. Kan's sword flashed upwards in
the nick of time to block it. Even so, she was forced down, doing the
splits in order to keep her torso erect. She swung her forward leg around,
spinning on her hips, and managed to catch her fiance in a foot sweep.
Tham toppled to the floor, and Kan was quick to pop back up to her feet,
bringing her own katana in towards his neck. Tham deftly used his hilt to
nudge the blade aside, the tip digging into the wooden floor right next to
his throat. Using his free hand, he snatched Kan's swordarm, pulling her
forward to meet his rising foot and catapulting her up and over his head.
     Kan cursed herself for not foreseeing such a counterattack, pulled
herself into a ball and flipped cleanly over to land expertly on her feet.
The second she spent in the air was all Tham needed to spring back
upright and take up the attack once more.
     Chip and Dale watched with hearts racing as the battle raged on,
advantage swinging back and forth from Tham to Kan and back to Tham
again. In all honestly, it may have gone on for some time, but Kan's
katana, though well-made, couldn't compete with the legendary Time
Blade. Tham's ancestral heirloom spun and maneuvered cleanly in his
grasp so well it appeared to be a natural extension of  his arm. The
superior balance was more than adequate to block Kan's latest thrust with
the hilt, then snap around to snatch her katana free from her grasp,
flipping it perfectly into Tham's awaiting free hand. Both swordtips were
at Kan's delicate throat within an instant.
     "Do you yield?" Tham asked with a wry smile.
     Kan fretted a bit, then lowered her head. Her sparkling green eyes
looked up at Tham through her wild bangs while her lower lip pouted.
     "Uh-uh," Tham shook his head. "Not this time."
     "Blast!" Kan stomped her foot, a surprising cute gesture to make
while at swordpoint. "The one time I really need it to work...." She sighed
finally, and nodded. "Very well, Tham. I yield."
     Tham nodded his acceptance and handed her katana back to her.
They each sheathed their blades, bowed respectfully, then hugged each
other strongly.
     "You're getting better," Tham chuckled.
     Kan gave a throaty murmur, nipping her fiance on the nose lightly.
"Good." She gently separated from him and headed through the doorway
leading to the kitchen, pausing long enough to turn to him. "Because I'm
getting tired of being the one who has to do the dishes."
     A few moments after she had left, the chipmunks were able to move
their limbs once more.
     "Uh..." Chip slowly started, "Gadget and Foxglove... left to pick up
the flowers. They'll be back later...."
     Dale, meanwhile, did his patented Etch-a-Sketch method of
recovering; shake head firmly until it clears.
     "Good," Tham said in response to Chip's statement. "We can pick
up a few more items today, as well." He spoke with his usual calm and
dignified voice as he lightly cleaned and polished his katana. The Time
Blade had been in Tham's family for generations untold, and had once
carried the power to grant a descendant of the original wielder a wish.
Had, of course, as Tham had used it to save himself, Kan, Geegaw, and
the Rangers from a rather grisly end back in Japan. The absence of the
wish did nothing to detract from the blade, however, as it was still the
pinnacle of any swordmaker's career; truly, a work of art. Sleek, perfectly
balanced, blade folded over countless times, a razor-sharp edge, and with
a highly decorative and ornamental hilt and sheath, the Time Blade was
still something that the Raccoon and Packrat Museum of Naturally
Glittery Things would have been proud to display.
     Of course, being a priceless heirloom, chances were nonexistent of
it ever happening.
     "Well, let's get a move on, then," Dale finally managed, recovering
from the rather odd method Tham and Kan used to determine who did
what chores. "The rehearsal's tomorrow, right?" The Rangers had
actually only been at the hotel since last night, and had spent their first
time in ages seeing Kan and Tham by visiting rather than studying the
wedding plans.
     "Right," Tham nodded as he sheathed the katana. "I have the list
with me. Most are within a short walking distance, but we'll have a fair
amount to carry back." He glanced at the chipmunks. "Are Monterey
Jack and Zipper coming with us?"
     "I imagine so, yes," Chip nodded, finally putting the sword fight
behind him. "They should be downstairs. Probably taking a look around
the cafe."
     "Hey, I wanted to ask you, Tham," Dale said suddenly,
remembering. "What exactly are we doing in this thing again? Are we
like ushers, or something?"
     Tham smiled. "Not quite, but you'll be helping out in the ceremony,
yes. If you want to, of course."
     Chip grinned. "That's a stupid question."
     "Well, thank you in advance, then," Tham smiled. "Don't worry,
Kan and I will guide you all through it tomorrow at the rehearsal. It will
be a day-long event, after all."
     Chip and Dale nodded, and started to follow Tham out, until Chip
advised that Tham leave the Time Blade behind; in the animal society of
America, wearing a sword about in public wasn't quite a good idea. Kan
called from the kitchen, reminding Tham to be back soon, so they could
start filling the Rangers in on the ceremony, once Gadget and Foxglove
returned.
     Agreeing, Tham and the chipmunks exited and went downstairs,
where they found Monterey and Zipper fast enough. As Chip predicted,
they were at the cafe. They gathered around the table as Tham went over
the errand list.
     "Gadget and Foxglove are taking care of the floral arrangements,"
he glanced at the paper, "so we need to stop by the bakers, caterers, the
clothiers, and the musicians. Plus, I received word from the glassblowers
shop that in addition to the wine glasses, my wedding gift for Kan is
ready to be picked up, so we should be able to get everything in one trip.
And without having to worry about Kan spotting her gift."
     What'd you get her, again? Zipper politely inquired.
     Tham glanced about to make sure that no other members of the
wedding party were in the area. "A small, glass globe, with a crystalline
butterfly inside, suspended by two metal wires. A slight tap to the glass
dome will set the butterfly into motion, and it will remain that way for
several minutes. Truly captivating, and practically breathtaking if you set
it in direct sunlight. It represents how I feel about Kan; she can take a ray
of pure sunshine and create something even more wondrous from it," he
stated proudly.
     "Pretty impressive, mate," Monterey chuckled. "Reminds me of the
kind of reactions I got from me ol' flames when I gave 'em gifts."
     "Really?" Tham asked. "What sort of gifts did you use?"
     "Cheese," he replied with a smile and a distant look of fond
remembrance in his eyes. "Limburger always made 'em swoon...."
     Tham exchanged a surreptitious glance with the others. "I can
imagine," he finally stated with honesty.
     "Well, we're burnin' daylight, boyos," Dale remarked with a
chuckle. "Let's hit the caterers first. Maybe they have some leftovers we
can munch on."
     Tham was about to mention what they would have to pick up from
the caterers, and why it would be a bit of a bother, but Dale, Monterey,
and Zipper were already enticed by the prospect of free food and were out
the door. Chip sighed and shrugged to Tham as he followed his fellow
Rangers outside. After a chuckle about what lay in store for them, the
groom quickly caught up.

                         *     *     *

     On the surface of the city, light is a welcomed and cherished aspect
of life. So much so that the people living there have hundreds of artificial
lighting systems for when the night comes. Light is associated with life
and protection, being used to ward off the dangers which may lurk in the
shadows, hidden from view.
     But deep in the bowels of the city's sewer system, light is a bane
and considered an evil which must be tolerated. Where no sunlight ever
falls, no moonlight ever shines, and artificial light only appears once in a
great while, it is a suicidal endeavor to be caught near a light source.
Creatures roam the pitch black corridors, relying on extraordinary vision
or other, precise sensory organs to navigate their way through the endless
corridors of darkness. Light draws attention, and attention often results in
lethal danger.
     Still, some love the light as if they lived on the surface. This may be
due to their needing it for proper living conditions, or because the
creature has no fear of attack from another denizen of the deep. And, in
one particular case, it's both.
     Sewer Al sat against the wall of his cavernous dwelling, his reading
lamp shining brightly above him and illuminating the novel he was
currently reading with brilliant clarity. The bulb was a halogen -- easily
the huge Cajun gator's favorite. Bright, long-lasting, and easily powered
from the few electrical lines he had tapped into. Hulking over his
precious literature, one might mistake him for a docile animal. A grave
mistake. Despite his large number of years, it would be inaccurate to the
extreme to consider Sewer Al as being "past his prime". True, his age
showed, from the gray, large, bushy eyebrows, to the pair of spectacles
resting at the end of his nose, to the tattered, worn sweater and vest he
sported. Yet, he was sitting on top of the food chain; the only things that
would dare attack him would be other gators, and they had no reason to
provoke him.
     More importantly, Sewer Al's mind was just as sharp and nimble as
it always was. The gator had amassed an almost-legendary store of books,
ranging the entire Dewey decimal system from dictionaries and
encyclopedias to the most recent in science fiction. The half-buried
subway car he used as his lair was filled with books, magazines and other
reading materials. Safely high and dry from the reflecting pools all about
his abode, his collection of written works had been amassed as payments
for hundreds of jobs; they ranged from enforcer to informant, criminal to
legitimate. As long as his price was met, Sewer Al was not one to
concern himself with whom the payer was. He had worked for the likes
of Fat Cat and Rat Capone as well as the Rescue Rangers and the Animal
Police Force (A.P.F.).
     His price was not as easy to meet as most thought, however, as
having already collected more research material than most bookstores, it
was becoming increasingly difficult to meet the gator's demands. Indeed,
this insatiable thirst for books, and hence the paying clients need to steal
them from humans, had given Stones City the distinction of having the
most well-read criminals in the world. Stones City had the highest rate of
book theft across the globe, and had become so bad in recent years that
insurance companies had it listed as a separate policy.
     Sewer Al was currently reading a true delicacy of the animal
kingdom -- a small book written and published by animals, rather than
humans. This rarity was the latest in the series, "Life Under Earth", by
the noted biologist, David Digginburrow. A slight scuffling to the right,
however, gave him cause to insert one of his bookmarks before lowering
the tome and looking off into the darkness, just out of the range of the
reading lamp's illumination.
     He didn't say anything. Whoever had come this far was either a
potential client, or a potential dinner. Interrupting Sewer Al's reading,
particularly when uncalled, was similar to a treason charge in most
countries.
     "Hey, you don't look so good," a voice full of confidence and self-
assurance called out to the educated reptile. "You have some sort of
disease from hanging around in these sewers?"
     Sewer Al didn't bother to respond.
     "All right, sorry about that. I just can't understand what the
attraction is to living your life surrounded by aromas strong enough to
make the stone walls melt." The owner of the voice stepped into the light
radius, revealing himself as one of the city's lesser-seen residents; a
raccoon. His gray and black fur was presentable, showing him to be from
the city, rather than the unkempt and carefree style of his brethren in the
wilds. In addition, Sewer Al noticed the jean jacket the raccoon was
wearing was dyed gray and black, so as not to ruin the natural
camouflage.
     "I need information," the raccoon stated bluntly, obviously not
caring in the least about formalities or subtlety.
     Again, Sewer Al decided not to waste energy replying. The raccoon
obviously knew what Sewer Al's price was, so there was no point in
bringing it up.
     After a moment, the raccoon frowned. "Fine. And I have another
book to exchange for it, too. Happy?" He seemed rather upset, and Sewer
Al was getting the feeling that this raccoon was trying to push Sewer Al's
buttons, to get a reaction. It was an inane idea, of course, but this raccoon
seemed disappointed that he couldn't get a rise from the wizened gator.
Sewer Al, being the well-read and congenial person he was, decided to
oblige him.
     "You have ten seconds to explain your desired transaction in
detail," he explained. "At the end of it, if I feel you've wasted my time,
I'll chew you into meat shreds." Sewer Al calmly set his book down and
stood up, waiting.
     "I need to know the layout to The Ivy Crest," the raccoon quickly
grunted out, actually more irritated than frightened. "All the entrances,
exits, and room locations. Full detail. In payment, I offer an animal press
book, which I doubt has ever been in the Western Hemisphere before."
The raccoon tossed a small but thick book up to Sewer Al, who caught it
one-handed and began flipping through carefully it with a sharp claw.
Fortunately for the raccoon, the well-read reptile was impressed.
     "Where did you get this?" Sewer Al asked offhandedly, his deep
voice, always with a trace of a growling, deliberate Cajun drawl,
rebounding from all angles around the raccoon.
     Still, the raccoon refused to feel nervous. "Let us just say that I had
it procured for me through a contact," he replied evenly. "Unless you care
to consider that as payment rather than the book?"
     Sewer Al smirked as he glanced at the raccoon. True, the mammal
had a certain level of belligerence, but at least he was smart enough to
keep it in check. Such a trait, nevertheless, would make the raccoon's
presence known to Sewer Al through rumors and rumblings of the animal
society, yet he couldn't even place a name as to whom this might be.
     None of that mattered, however, as Sewer Al lightly closed the
book and nodded. "Very well," he said, "I shall consider this as a fair
trade. You are correct; I have not seen this book before, and the nature of
the writing suggests it originated out of this country. Hence, my curiosity
of where you," he chuckled, "'procured it from', as you so aptly put it.
     "Whatever the case may be," he went on as he walked inside the
subway car, "make yourself comfortable. I shall return momentarily."
     "Comfortable?" the raccoon grumbled to himself as he waited.
"Here? Just sitting down might be soaking my fur in someone's bile that
leaked from an inflamed orifice." He opted to await Sewer Al's return
while standing.
     A few minutes later, the huge carnivore returned with a series of
rolled-up papers. He lobbed them to the raccoon, who snatched them
quickly, unrolling them at once to glance over each one in detail. Sewer
Al waited patiently for the raccoon to finish, reclaiming his place by the
wall and opening his book as he did so.
     The raccoon nodded to Sewer Al and left without another word. For
his own part, Sewer Al was silent, far more interested in finishing his
current book so that he could start on his latest acquisition as soon as
possible. When the raccoon was far off, heading for the next spot on his
itinerary, Sewer Al once again bookmarked his place, rose, and walked
over to a small table. Pulling out a small sheet of paper, he quickly jotted
down a note in shorthand, indecipherable to anyone who didn't know the
writing style.
     Once completed, he rolled up the paper, placed it in a bottle, corked
it, and dropped in the sewer flowing towards the Sewage Treatment
Plant. Then once more, he sat down to read at a leisurely pace.
     It would be a while before his next guests arrived.

                         *     *     *

     "You got it okay, Monty?" Dale looked with concern at the colossal
box with legs, currently wobbling. The box wasn't that heavy, of course.
The cake inside was.
     "No (pant) sweat (puff), mate!" Monterey wheezed as he
maintained his slow but steady pace, being careful not to tip the cake or
lose his footing. The actual cake, itself, was heavy to begin with -- it was
bigger than he was -- but it was the enormous amounts of ornamentation
and decorations on the cake, both edible and non-edible, that added on
the weight. He tried to keep his energy up by reminding himself that this
was a *real* cake, and once the wedding was over, he would be able to
take his revenge on it by helping to scarf it down in record time. And, he
knew,  Dale would be a valuable tag-team partner in that bout.
     Zipper assisted Monterey by flying near the top of the box to aid the
balancing act, leaving Monterey more energy to worry about simply
holding it up. The fly was able to help Monterey nicely as the only
package Zipper was carrying was the box holding Tham's wedding gift to
Kan; it was small enough for him to secure it to his body with one hand,
leaving the other free for the Amazing Walking Cake.
     Dale, Chip, and Tham were carrying several packages themselves,
or they would have been helping out Monterey as well. Dale's arms were
full of the proper clothing for the ceremony; They had the clothes for
everyone who wasn't a guest, from the musicians to the servers during
the meal. Dale thought the outfits looked rather stylish, but felt they were
somewhat drab compared to his own wardrobe.
     Next to him, Chip was busy managing all the other various baked
goods, the boxes stacked up to his nose. The caterers would be by
tomorrow, but some of the special dishes on the menu came from the
same bakery as the cake, and since the bakers charged extra for delivery,
Tham elected to pick them up instead. Chip was just glad his were merely
food, and not the eighth wonder of the world that Monterey was gasping
under.
     As for the groom, Tham's arms were weighted down with two hard
suitcases, each filled with numerous wine glasses, freshly engraved from
the glassblowers shop. Each one had a guest name on it, to be use as
souvenir presents when the reception was held. The glassblower had
packed each suitcase full of foam, assuring Tham that he could use the
suitcases as a shield from an asteroid and not worry about breaking the
contents within. Tham merely smiled in reply. He knew merchants all too
well to take heart in such proclamations, and knew it best not to tempt
fate.
     The five of them were making their way back from the musicians,
the last people they had  needed to see, confirming that they would arrive
later tonight for setting up, as well as doing a few warm-ups. They would
be part of the rehearsal the next day, and wanted to be ready to play by
then. In addition, the head of the group would also act as a DJ for a the
reception. Kan had mentioned once before that Karaoke was a popular
pastime at Japanese weddings, and Dale was tickled pink by the idea.
Monterey would have asked about earplugs, but Zipper had elbowed him
in time.
     "Only a few more blocks to go," Chip called out, turning a bit so
the cake with Monterey's legs could hear.
     "No good," came the forced reply. "You said that three blocks
ago." He set the large box down and took a deep breath. "Hang on a
minute, mates," he said breathlessly. "I think this thing is gainin' weight."
     "I believe it," Dale nodded, setting the clothes down next to him. "I
think there's some kind of weird mathematical formula that talks about
something getting heavier for every foot you travel, or something like
that. You know, sorta like those quacktron physics."
     "Quantum, Dale," Chip corrected him, setting his own boxes down
as well, but Dale shook his head.
     "No, I meant quacktron. I read about it online, using the library's
Internet computer. It makes things float and stuff."
     "Indeed?" Tham asked, coming back over to join them, placing the
heavy suitcases down. Zipper flitted over and sat down on the top of the
cake box as Dale explained.
     "Sure. There's this ray that was being built, see, and you could fire
it to make things get lighter and lighter by using these tiny things called
quacktrons. And you could punch holes through dimensional walls and
stuff, too. Really cool. Except when your insane counterpart from another
dimension slips in and kills you. Then it kinda sucks."
     The others were quiet for a moment.
     "Uh, where did you read this?" Chip finally queried.
     "On this one website," Dale responded. "Off of the Daft Webring."
     "If there was ever a more apt name...." Chip remarked dryly.
     "Hey, don't knock the idea of separate dimensions, buddy," Dale
retorted with a grin. "Or should I remind you of Dragon and the robots?"
     "Is that a band?" Tham asked, thinking they were talking about a
song.
     "No," Monterey chuckled. "But you could label 'em as 'Heavy
Metal'."
     Tham was about to ask another question, then decided the answer
would be even more confusing, so wisely skipped it.
     Guys, Zipper quietly buzzed from his vantage point, about ten yards
in front of us, to the right of the street.
     They didn't visibly react to Zipper's warning, but all managed to
steal a nondescript glance at the location Zipper reported. Some figures
were moving in the shadows of the building, heading in their direction.
While there was no proof that these figures were after them -- or even
noticed them -- this wasn't a place to wander about without some method
of self-defense. In the waning daylight, the local gangs got more and
more bold on people returning home from work and shopping. Most
didn't bother those out in the open, like Tham and the four Rangers, but
nobody wanted to become another gang statistic in the power struggle
which was broiling in the vacuum left by the Siamese Twin's sudden
departure.
     Tham frowned, wishing he had some type of blade on him, but
Chip had been right; walking around with a sword would have attracted
more attention than they already had.
     "Whattaya think?" Dale quietly asked the group, glancing about.
The sun was setting, so they wouldn't have much time before the dusk
only added more shadows to keep track of.
     "I'd prefer to avoid any conflict," Tham replied.
     "Don't like fightin'?" Monterey asked, slightly disappointed.
     "More like I prefer to avoid risking damaging any of our packages,"
Tham chuckled. "Doing so would undoubtably endanger the perfection of
the wedding, and do you wish to be the one to inform Kan of that?"
     While everyone nodded in understanding, Monterey considered the
number of women he had known in his lifetime. The ones he
remembered as being the most vindictive and merciless were usually
those who had a serious relationship that went horribly sour. He winced
as he wondered about his old flame, Desiree. Would she have stayed on
the right side of law had he not inadvertently left her at the alter?
     In that unexpected revelation, Monterey realized she could probably
attempt to kill him a hundred times, and he would still have a soft spot for
her; how could anything she could do compare to what he actually did?
     Such thoughts normally come unbidden, and frequently at rather
inopportune times. By the time that Monterey had shaken his head to
return his attention to problem at hand, he saw the grim looks on his
friends faces; the figures had finally separated from the shadows. From
all around them.
     And had started closing in.
     The five friends unconsciously formed a defensive ring around their
packages, putting the safety of the wedding preparations above their own
well-fare. A wise move, of course.
     But maybe they could intimate their way out of this. The gang
drawing closer was regarding them warily, as if the gang wasn't quite
certain of who it was. It might have been due to the absence of Gadget,
who was far and away to most popular Ranger in the city; heck, probably
in the world. The gang was actually mostly younger kids, no older than
sixteen or so, Chip would have guessed, so inexperience might have been
a part of the trepidation being shown.
     At last, the apparent leader of the gang stepped forward while the
others halted. His cool, dark eyes regarded each of the Rangers and Tham
carefully, weighing each one before moving on to the next, trying to
firmly decide on the correct course of action to take. Finally, he spoke.
     "So," his voice was even and crisp, "you guys are the Rescue
Rangers?"
     Zipper noticed a slight twitch at the corner of the leader's mouth;
the mouse was trying hard to suppress a grin....
     "That's us," Chip nodded. He and the others weren't in any
particular aggressive pose, but were still ready for whatever this gang
threw at them.
     "Hah! You see?" the mouse said to his fellow gang members,
grinning widely. "I *told* you guys it was them!"
     Well, almost anything.
     "Excuse me?" Dale asked, slightly puzzled at the happiness shown
by the gang. Zipper, on the other hand, was astonished at what he
recognized in their eyes; hero worship.
     "We're your biggest fans!" the mouse exclaimed as he and the rest
of the group crowded around to shake hands with the Rangers, even
Tham. "We've been following all your adventures since... well, since as
long as I can remember!"
     "It's what brought us all together!" another one added vigorously.
"We all admire you guys so much we decided to follow your example,
and so we started this gang to help go around and keep the streets down
here as safe as we could. It's a lot of work, but hey, we figured you guys
have done a lot more, so we can surely do this little service to our
community!"
     The mouse leader nodded. "Eddie's right. Before we learned about
you guys, we didn't have much to do with our lives. You sure helped to
give us a direction."
     Chip finally found his tongue. "Great," he said through a widening
smile. "Glad to hear it."
     "Who's the new guy?" the mouse asked politely, nodding to Tham.
"You guys take another member?"
     "And where's Gadget?" a female voice called out.
     "This is Tham," Chip answered the leader first, "and no, he's not a
new member. He's a friend of ours from overseas, here on, uh, personal
matters. I don't think we'll be taking on any actual new members for a
while. We only have a few Honorary Rangers, to start with."
     "Cool," the mouse said with a grin. "Truth is, we've heard so many
rumors about strangers joining your team, it sounded like you were
running a hotel in your Headquarters."
     "Where's Gadget?" the same female voice called out loudly.
     "Back at the hotel!" Dale replied, trying to see who asked it, but the
crowd was too thick.
     "You'll have to forgive Julie," the mouse chuckled, "she's a huge
fan of Gadget."
     "Hey, who isn't?" Monterey pointed out, which everyone else
agreed with.
     "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?" Chip asked the leader.
     "Oh, sorry -- where are my manners? My name's Jeff," he
respectfully gave a small bow to Chip. "Jeff Puncture. And forgive our
indulgence, but could you spare a few minutes to chat? We've always
wanted to meet you guys face-to-face."
     "Well--" Chip started.
     "You bet!" Dale interrupt, forcing his way in front of Chip. "The
Rangers are always ready and willing to meet with our fans!"
     "Great!" Jeff replied, and everyone who was gathered around began
a series of rapid-fire questions: How long had they been together? Did
they have a website? Did they know anyone named Clarice? Did they
really beat Swarm with one hand tied behind their backs?
     Tham smiled and shook his head, glad to be sitting out this
particular panel discussion.

                         *     *     *

     "Now I want you to realize," the raccoon addressed the large crowd
before him, "that this will be a fairly straightforward and easy task. That's
what the boss says. So, it will be, even if it's more difficult than
cramming Fat Albert into the back seat of a Volkswagen Beetle."
     The crowd grumbled amongst themselves. The raccoon, whom they
knew as Morty, smirked condescendingly at them all. He didn't respect
them, and made no effort to hide it. Most criminal bosses showing such
distaste for his employees would find themselves ousted from power
within weeks -- some were so bad that they were ousted from the living,
as well.
     Morty's career, on the other hand, seemed to skyrocket despite his
animadversional demeanor. He had seemingly arisen from nowhere a few
months ago, but, as the information brokers of the underground knew,
this wasn't as strange as it might seem to the untrained eye. The truth was
that Swarm's temporary hostile take-over of the city's animal populace
had ground  several crime rings to dust; only the very powerful (such as
The Kingpin Kingdom of Fat Cat and Stripes) or the reclusive (such as
Rat Capone's Sewer Empire) crime syndicates had survived the ordeal
well enough to protect their assets during the wild and rather savage
power struggle which had emerged in the aftermath of Swarm's downfall.
Morty had managed to quickly form his own core of loyal followers, and
had systematically set about absorbing all of the small criminal rackets in
the immediate area, by both force and subterfuge.
     Now he was one of the top contenders vying for control of the
docks. The Siamese Twins, former lords over Chinatown, would return
eventually, as everyone knew. The docks were generally in their sphere of
influence as well, but in their absence, it had slipped free from their paw
of their reputation entirely. If another criminal had established a secure
enough hold over the area, the Twins could very well be denied their old
hunting grounds -- and perhaps even "convinced" to either join the
current crimelord's syndicate, or leave the city altogether.
     And while Morty's "silver-tongue" wasn't nearly as "politely
polished" as his henchmen would prefer, the raccoon got results, got
them fast, and got them with flying colors. For all his degradation of his
men, he delivered. He paid what he said he would, did not try to
shortchange them, and did give credit where credit was due. Only a few
had realized that it was all because Morty was just blatantly honest. He
was right more often than not, which was the really irritating thing.
     Glancing over them once more, Morty continued. "I have secured
the blueprints for the ever-so blandly named Ivy Crest, as well as
information that the rehearsal will be taking place tomorrow. So tonight
all of you lucky kiddies get to listen to me, and hopefully learn. We'll
have the advantages of numbers and size, so you'll have to work extra
hard to come up with some lame excuse if you fail."
     That was another thing that made Morty practically untouchable in
the underworld. People who attempted to usurp him, people who
consistently failed him, or people who he just really didn't like all had a
mysterious habit of vanishing without a trace. Morty once made an aside
that they had merely taken a trip to the Ministry of Love for readjustment,
but nobody ever liked the way he said enough to feel the need to research
the reference.
     Morty set the blueprints down on a simple contraption made few
wood, mirrors and penlights, which projected the images onto the wall
behind him, easily seen by everyone.
     "Here," he said, tapping the cathedral-like hall in front of the Shinto
Shrine, "is where we will make our uninvited entrance, and do so with
such showmanship as to knock them dead."
     The crowd chuckled at that. At least Morty had a good sense of
humor.

                         *     *     *

     "That was pretty cool," Dale remarked with a grin as he and the
guys relaxed in the small cafe at the hotel.
     "I don't know," Chip frowned slightly. "I got the distinct
impression that Julie didn't like me, or even you, Dale."
     Tham shrugged. "Not everyone will like you, Chip. You should
hardly let it get you down."
     "Too right," Monterey nodded. "Especially when you had so many
fawnin' admirers!" He laughed at Chip's slight blush. Two of the girls in
particular, Natasha and Rachel, had practically swooned upon meeting
him.
     The rest of the gang, after the Rangers answered all the questions
they could, helped bring all the packages back to the hotel, as a small
token of their gratitude. Now that everything was dropped off -- Chip and
Dale agreed to hide Tham's gift for Kan in their room -- they were taking
a short break before going over the actual ceremony. The girls had
returned shortly beforehand, no doubt taking the time to chat with Kan.
     "So Tham," Dale asked over their drinks, "how's it feel to be tyin'
the knot?"
     "Yeah, mate," Monterey added. "I don't think you've been too
chatty over *that* aspect of the weddin'," he chuckled.
     Tham smiled and took a sip from his tea before nodding. "Well, it's
not as if I can really give any precise commentary on it yet, as I've never
been married before. But I feel it's the right step; Kan and I have known
each other long enough, the spirits know."
     I guessed as much, Zipper's nod replied, but was never entirely
sure. You guys met before Geegaw showed up, right?
     "Yes," Tham confirmed. "We had known each other for a few years
by then. She had arrived in my village one day, working in the shipyards.
I'm not sure when we first started talking, but my parents had known her
since day one, given their trade on the seas. Eventually, we met, although
it was just a causal acquaintance at first. I was busy with my studies in
swordsmanship, and Kan was busy working as a diver to support
herself."
     "How old was she?" Dale asked.
     Tham thought for a moment. "Perhaps twelve. Maybe fourteen. It
was a long time ago, you understand."
     "She moved out on her own at that age?" Chip asked, puzzled.
"Even in the West, most young women don't leave home until they near
the end of their adolescence."
     Tham sighed quietly. "She doesn't speak of them much, but from
what I gather, her parents passed away while she was still young. She
didn't choose to be on her own."
     "Oh, Tham," Chip grimaced. "I'm sorry. I didn't know...."
     "You're not the first," Tham reassured him. "She never brings it up
voluntarily, and if someone else does mention it in passing, she's
obviously uncomfortable discussing the issue. She'll eventually tell me
the whole story, I have no doubt, but she still has some issues she feels
she has to resolve with herself, first. Fortunately, our marriage will lend
her a much-needed strength. I don't think she's ever held a bond with
anyone as close as me before, not even family bonds." He seemed both
honored and saddened by this.
     "Still kinda weird," Dale commented, "I mean since when we first
met you two, you were at each other's throats."
     "And *not* in the right nice affectionate manner," Monterey
winked.
     Allowing a small laugh, Tham shrugged. "What can I say,
Monterey? I guess there were some buds of romance beginning to bloom
shortly before we met Geegaw. I had finished my studies, and started
helping my parents on the docks more and more. Which, in turn, meant I
got to see Kan more and more. She truly has a lovely smile..." he sighed
happily as he thought of his future wife, then sobered. "But then my
grandfather died, and all my attention was to helping my father claim his
rightful place at the head of the Shandi Clan. After their deaths...." he
shook his head, breaking free from the trance before it weighed him
down too much.
     The others wisely let the subject drop. Tham had taken his parents
murders as hard as possible, going so far as to lie to the Rangers, Kan,
and Geegaw about his true desires for the Time Blade; he didn't care
about ruling the clan, all he wanted was to use the legendary wish to bring
his parents back from the dead. His obsession clouded over his better
judgement, and he might have very well had made things even worse had
he completed that goal.
     But the Rangers -- particularly Dale and Zipper -- stopped him, and
to them all, especially the aforementioned two, he owed a huge debt. 
     "Well, let's get moving," Chip offered, breaking the heavy silence
skillfully. "We want to finish early, and get a good sleep tonight, so we
can get an early start tomorrow morning for the rehearsal."
     "That's right," Tham nodded, standing up with the others. "The
musicians will be here early, so we should be all set to do the dry-run
once they have their arrangements in place."
     "And you wanted to do a dress rehearsal?" Dale looked quizzically
at Tham, remembering their earlier discussions.
     Tham nodded. "Indeed. The dry-run will help you know when to
move and do what. The dress rehearsal will be to give you a bit of
exposure to our customs in Japan. Have any of you attended a Japanese
wedding before?"
     Monterey nodded. "A while back. But only at the reception -- they
had hired me as one of the chefs."
     "So you'll have some ideas of what to expect," Tham agreed. "But
the actual ceremony is a bit different than that, which is what we want to
go over."
     The group of them quickly headed up the stairs to join the ladies.
They had decided to have the meeting in Tham's room, as he had just
about all of the wedding's plans on hand. He enjoyed being well-organized.
     Kan and Tham greeted each other with an affectionate hug and kiss,
while Foxglove immediately tackled Dale and a much less restrained hug,
knocking him clear on his back. Chip and Gadget glanced at each and
smiled warmly. They hadn't quite worked out their trepidations at public
displays of affection, but they didn't mind at the moment.
     The emotions contained in the smiles suited them just fine for now.
     "Well, let us begin," Tham said briskly as Dale slowly rose from the
floor, helped by Foxglove.
     "First," Them went on, "Kan and I wish to express to you all," his
gesture took in all gathered, "how much you mean to us. You people truly
are, and always will be, more than our most honored friends. You are our
family. And neither Kan nor I can dispute the claim that one could not
wish for a more caring group of individuals."
     Gadget and Foxglove both blushed lightly at the glowing
compliments, while the men grinned widely in thanks.
     "Hey mates," Monterey gently said to the engaged couple, "we'll
always consider you blokes as our own kin, too. I mean, nevermindin' the
closeness to Geegaw you had an' all, I think I speak for all of us when I
tell you that we're a mite honored to be considered as kin by you, too."
     "And since you are family," Kan said, "it is why we're asking for
you to act as our family members in the actual Shinto ceremony.
Normally, only family members are allowed, but you are our family
now."
     "Especially in the absence of our own kin," Tham added.
     For a brief moment, Zipper spotted Kan give a downcast gaze, but
then she hugged her soon-to-be husband close, and she quickly grew a
smile as he returned the hug strongly.
     "So what do we need to do, exactly?" Dale asked, scratching his
head.
     "The Shinto ceremony goes as such," Tham explained. "First, when
we enter the shrine, there will be some cleansing practices that must be
preformed. The Shinto priest present will preform a purification act, as
well. Afterwards, normally we would be reporting to the elders of the
family, and ask for their lasting favors on us as newly-weds. Since we do
not have any elders, we will be performing that part with you, Monterey,
as you are the eldest here. No offense implied, of course."
     Monterey chuckled wryly and nodded in understanding.
     Then continued. "Then, our gobetween will read aloud our oath to
each other to remain faithful and obedient to one another in married life."
     "Gobetween?" Gadget asked.
     "It's a person who is usually a mutual friend of both families," Kan
explained. She turned to Dale. "Dale, we would be honored if you'd
accept that position. You and Foxglove, as gobetweens are normally
couples." She grinned as Foxglove's face lit up at the fact that someone
besides her had publicly announced that she and Dale were an "item".
     Oh happy day!
     "Oh, yes! Yes! YES!" the enthusiastic bat answered for Dale. "Oh,
we'd absolutely love to! Wouldn't we, cutie?" she beamed at Dale, who
was too taken by surprise over his significant other's sudden burst of
zeal.
     "Yeah, uh, yeah." Dale managed to regain his senses, and grinned
at Kan and Tham. "Yeah! Love it!"
     Smiling, Tham spoke again. "Next comes the 'San-San-Kudo', or if
you prefer, the ceremony of three-threes-are-nine; both Kan and myself
take three sips of sake from three separate nuptial cups."
     "Sake?" Dale asked.
     "A rice wine," Kan explained.
     Dale tried to visualize a wine with rice floating in it, but all that
came up was minestrone soup in a bottle. He doubted that was what Kan
had meant.
     "Then," Tham said, "Kan and I exchange our rings."
     "Golly," Gadget blinked, "I didn't know that was customary."
     "These days, it usually is," Tham informed her. "Japan has adopted
a number of the Western wedding customs, so these days nearly all of the
weddings in Japan have some form of Western influence to varying
degrees. But we still believe in a number of our traditional customs, as
well.
     "For example, after we exchange rings, Kan and I will proceed into
the sanctuary and offer twigs from one of the sacred trees in worship to
our gods. We shall return here, at which point we all partake in sipping
sake to signify everyone's union through the marriage. Generally, it's
meant to bond the families, but here, more to strengthen the bond
between us all."
     "That will end the actual wedding ceremony," Kan said. "It's not
long, but full of tradition and solemn reverence. The reception party will
be much more relaxed. Oh, and before it can start we'll need our
gobetweens," she nodded to Dale and Foxglove again, "to announce us to
reception group. Also, during the reception, it is custom for the bride to
change clothes a few times during the event, so I may enlist Gadget and
Foxglove's help to speed up the process."
     "Golly, that'll be interesting," Gadget said, thinking about how
festive such a tradition was. "Does Tham get to change outfits, too?"
     "He may if he wants," Kan shrugged, then looked at her fiance.
"It's not mandatory, but not uncommon, either."
     "Man," Dale breathed. "The bride and groom sure get a work-out
from the ceremony, huh?"
     Kan grinned at Dale's fidgeting. "Just be glad that Tham isn't being
married in the village where I grew up. They still used a traditional
wedding day ritual which calls for the hazing of the groom."
     "Hazing?" Dale asked warily. He knew what it meant to be hazed at
colleges, but hoped it didn't mean the same thing in this case.
     Kan, however, grinned wider, confirming it was the same thing.
"Oh, yes. I remember a few marriages when I was still a small child. On
the day of the wedding, when the groom would leave his house to escort
his bride to the Shinto shrine, everyone along the way to the bride's
house would come out to jeer and mock him."
     Dale's eyes widened. Conversely, so did Kan's grin.
     "We would affix a pair of stilts to his feet," she explained with a
light laugh, "and make him carry a worn-out umbrella. He had to walk
like this all the way to his bride's house, and all the while people would
be coming out and walking alongside him, ringing bells and banging
drums and basically humiliating him something fierce."
     "Please tell me you're kidding," Dale finally managed, seeing himself
in that spot, with Chip all too eagerly working on the drums.
     Kan laughed, but shook her head. "I'm serious, Dale. It was a long-
honored custom, and still is in parts of Japan."
     "I'm surprised anyone ever got married over there in the first
place," Dale remarked, a bit stunned. Foxglove warmly nuzzled into him,
though, bringing a smile to his face without delay.
     "Well, it's not as wide-spread in the big cities," Kan remarked with
a chuckle. "You won't see too many stilt-walkers in Tokyo. And
marriages in the villages that hold the practice are generally arranged to
begin with, so it's not as if people get too upset over the hazing. It was
just expected, is all."
     "Still, I'd never want to go through it."
     "Not many do," Kan agreed. "But it is supposed to serve a purpose,
not just provide some laughs."
     "A purpose?" Dale asked skeptically. "Like what? Tell everyone to
stay single?"
     Kan smiled. "No, Dale. One, all the noise attracts the whole
village's attention, so when the bride and groom arrive at the Shinto
shrine, the whole village has turned out for it, making it a very social
event. Two, the shame is meant to prevent the couple from remarriage
or..." -- her voice caught -- "... from divorce."
     As if someone had pulled a stopper from a plughole, Dale watched
as the happiness visibly drained out of Kan, being replaced with a sense
of sadness. Everyone else noticed her bubble burst, but for some reason
only Dale saw the magnitutue of it. Perhaps her flowing hair and Tham's
proximity blocked their views enough to mistake for just the loss of her
own parents. Dale's clear line of sight, however, made it painfully clear
this was something more. It only lasted for a second, though, and then
she shook her head and smiled once more, but even though Dale never
considered himself a detective like Chip, he knew a forced  smile when
he saw it.
     "The priest arrived yet?" Chip asked, drawing everyone's attention
to him, much to Kan's relief.
     "This morning," Tham nodded.
     "Glad you were able to find one locally. I imagine there aren't too
many Shinto priests around in the West," Chip noted thoughtfully.
     "Oh, we could've had a Christian priest preform the wedding, even
though it's not our religion," Tham mentioned. "In fact, sometimes it's a
very popular practice, especially in human circles. The foreign priests
who do not speak fluent Japanese, or those that purposefully exaggerate
their gaijin accent are particularly enjoyed; it adds a special exotic effect
to the wedding."
     Zipper grinned widely at the thought of others considering
American accents "exotic". That is just *too* cool, he thought to himself.
     "Well, that's the plan," Kan said brightly, having regained her old
self. "Any questions?"
     "Nah, luv," Monterey shook his head. "I think we got it all. And
any kinks will be taken care of durin' the rehearsal tomorrow, anyway."
     Everyone else agreed, and decided to split up for the reminder of
the night. Kan and Tham both were going to stop by the Shinto shrine,
and then head to their rooms for a solid night's sleep. Dale and Foxglove
trotted off downstairs, where the hotel had a small portable TV wired up;
it was almost time for "The What Files?". Gadget, Monterey and Zipper
decided to head back down to the cafe for a relaxed dinner, and invited
Chip along.
     The chipmunk said he'd join them later, as he wanted to catch a
glimpse of the hall being used for the reception -- he hadn't had time to
really look it over yet, and wanted to do so while it was empty.
     They all headed downstairs as a group, then went their separate
ways. Chip decided to give Tham and Kan some privacy, so he waited
around in the lobby, reading through some of the small rodent-printed
pamphlets. One of them was a local newsletter, of sorts, and had some
interesting information concerning some crimes that were happening in
the northern sections of the docks. Chip read through the article, but it
wasn't too accurate, dealing mostly in hearsay and rumors. Still, he
tucked it away in his jacket pocket as he glanced at the large, ornate
watch on the wall.
     Tham and Kan would be out of the hall by now, so he made his way
down past the stairwell leading up to the rooms, to part of the hotel
actually dug into the shore of the waterfront. It was tucked nicely away
from the rest of the hotel, affording a large amount of privacy and peace
from the any noises the rest of the structure might make. As he suspected,
he spotted Tham just as the mouse was heading back upstairs, Kan no
doubt ahead of him, as Chip didn't see her as he lesurily strolled down
the long passageway. He stepped around a corner at the end, coming to a
set of large, thick double doors. He opened one of them, letting it swing
gently to a close behind him after he stepped through.
     He glanced around at the large, ornate hall. For rodent standards, it
really was quite impressive, easily four feet high and six feet long. It had
a long asile running between two sets of pews, apparently for Western
weddings. At the front of the pews, however, a small, clear area seperated
the pews from what was obviously a dance floor. The tables and chairs
for the reception were arranged in the open area in front of the pews,
while the area for the musicians was placed beyond the dance floor,
between it and the shrine. The actual entrance to the shrine was on the
side, though, so if one would have to cross over the dance floor to get to
it from the orchestra pit. Not that Chip suspected any of the band
practiced Shinto, but one never knew.
     As he made his way down the wide aisle, Chip had to admit that
this hall was an odd combination of artitecture, but all the elements
present worked well enough together that Chip had to admire to skill with
which the hall was designed.
     Chip noticed -- with a forming grin -- a slick, black, grand piano off
to the side of the band's area. Stealing a glance around to make sure
nobody was about, he sneaked off down the asile and over the dance floor
to the instrument. He took another moment to glance over at the Shrine,
but didn't hear anyone back there. After another moment of listening to
satisfy himself, he turned his investigation back to the instrument before
him.
     It was hard to tell if it was new or just well-kept, but Chip really
didn't care. The wood held a beautiful finish, easily acting as a mirror,
reflecting the image of him in his fedora and fighter pilot's jacket.
Lightly, he sat down on the piano bench, lifted the key cover, and
experimentally played a few chords.
     The acoustics of the hall surprised him, as he heard the notes
resound brilliantly around him, coming in as clear as if he had been
wearing headphones. Likewise, from the design of the hall, the sounds
wouldn't get back out into the hallway, basically closing it off in its own
little world.
     He glanced at the music sheets in the rack before him, then shuffled
through. Lots of classical music, some swing, jazz, and various
soundtrack pieces -- he thought "A Whole Knew World" was a bit corny,
but it was Tham and Kan's wedding, not his. His shuffling through halted
when he came across a tune he was actually surprised to see. He had
heard the song before, and thought it was quite eloquent, but he also
thought it was a bit too sad for a wedding. Then again, he had to admit,
the piano chords in it were beautiful, so that may have been the reason for
its inclusion.
     Taking another quick look about him, Chip removed his hat, flexed
his fingers, and began to play. The chords started out slow and soft, easy
to sight-read, so he didn't have to concentrate too hard as he played,
which was fortunate -- had he been too wrapped up in his musical
exploration he might had been startled out of it altogether when a light,
female voice began to sing.

                             China
                    All the way to New York
                    I can feel the distance
                         Getting close
                    You're right next to me
                     But I need an airplane
                    I can feel the distance
                         As you breath

     As he played, Chip stole a glance down the hallway to the entrance
of the hall, to see who the vocalist was. But to his surprise, she came
from around the corner --  Kan slowly stepped into view, walking in time
to the slow rhythm, singing the chorus with a distant, reflective look on
her lovely features. She must have been quietly praying within the shrine,
but at the moment, Chip was glad that he failed to notice her; this was the
first time he had heard her rather accomplished singing voice.

          Sometimes, I think you want me to touch you
      How can I, when you build the great wall around you?
             In your eyes, I saw a future together
              You just look away, in the distance

     The piano notes and Kan's voice were blending together far better
than Chip would have first suspected, but he grew less and less interested
in it, and more enraptured by the wonderful melody the two of them were
creating, apparently without any effort. His paws nimbly danced along the
keys as Kan moved into the next verse.

                             China
                      Decorates our table
                   Funny how the cracks don't
                          Seem to show
                       Pour the wine dear
                  You say we'll take a holiday
                   But we never can agree on 
                          Where to go

     Neither of the two musicians looked at each other, but it would
have been pointless; the tempo of the song connected them well enough
to trust in their instincts without the crutch of sight. Kan paused briefly as
she stopped at the dance floor, closing her eyes slowly before moving out
onto it.

          Sometimes, I think you want me to touch you
      How can I, when you build the great wall around you?
             In your eyes, I saw a future together
              You just look away, in the distance

     She spun once, slowly, the light breeze from her movement gently
lifting the bottom of her kimono away from her in an elegant twirl before
settling back down against her fur. Her raven-black hair playfully danced
around her shoulders, gracefully resting around her head as light as an
angel descending from Heaven.

                             China
                    All the way to New York
                     Maybe you got lost in
                             Mexico
                    You're right next to me
                  I think that you can hear me
                     Funny how the distance
                         learns to grow

     Kan silently slid onto the piano bench next to Chip, facing the other
way, but he was too engrossed in his playing to notice. He was busy
working the chords smoothly and flawlessly -- the best he'd played in
years -- to be distracted by the trappings of the physical world. He moved
the keys along with an artisan's grace, lambently bringing the crescendo
up fluidly, then holding it for a brief moment before allowing it down,
perfectly in time with Kan's enriching tones.

          Sometimes, I think you want me to touch you
      How can I, when you build the great wall around you?

     Softly, she sang.
     Quietly, he played.

                    I can feel the distance
                    I can feel the distance
                    I can feel the distance
                         Getting close

     Gently, the song ended.
     They sat in silence a few minutes more, neither one wanting to
rejoin reality all that quickly. The hall seemed to be holding the ethereal
essence of the music they had created, basking them in its presence. They
remained facing opposite directions, despite sitting right next to each
other.
     Finally, Chip spoke.
     "It's sad song."
     Kan remained quiet at first. "It's a very sad song," she said at
length.
     Silence for another moment.
     "You're afraid, aren't you?" Chip asked quietly.
     Kan nervously laughed. "I'm terrified."
     "Don't you love him?"
     A slow smile. "Very much."
     Chip thought. "Commitment?"
     Kan nodded slowly. "I've always been alone. I had no one to trust
but myself. Now I'm about to tie myself to someone for a lifetime. It's a
frightening thought, really."
     "You've lived with others for a while, though," Chip suggested.
"It's not too different. How long were you with your parents?"
     Kan's gaze went to the floor. "Not long," she replied quietly, and
Chip feared he might have said the wrong thing. But caught up in the
mood of the song, Kan's heart had opened up. "My parents divorced
when I was very young," she explained. "In the particular area we were
living in, it was highly frowned upon. I spent my younger years learning
all the various demeaning attitudes and taunts that could be given to the
child of a divorced couple." She sighed deeply, and Chip could almost
swear from the sound of it that she had a tear in her eye. "I was so very
young..." she breathed. "The children's taunting wasn't too bad, I
suppose, but it was the adults that killed me. They looked down on me
and my father and mother no matter what we did or accomplished. I was
too young to understand how to be as durable as my parents, how to take
it as stoically as they; all I knew was I was tired of being picked on and
put down. So... I ran away."
     Chip continued to stare at the keyboard, at a loss for words.
     Kan, however, was not.
     "I never went back," she said softly as she leaned forward to
nervously massage her foot. "I don't hate my parents, though. I don't
even hate those who made me leave in the first place. But they did hurt
me, and returning would be just be reopening old wounds. I'm not ready
for that." She smiled for a moment, leaning back. "It's why I got along so
well with Tham's parents. They treated me as normal person, not some
plague carrier like in my old village."
     Kan remained quiet then, thinking of her parents. Were they still
living there? Were they still even alive? Part of her didn't care, but the
other part was curious and wondering. Maybe things had changed for the
better, maybe not, but it'd be nice to know for sure.
     "Kan," Chip quietly began, "Tham thinks your parents are dead."
     The young lady nodded slowly. "He doesn't know the truth.
Nobody does, except you. Everyone else thinks my parents are dead."
     "Kan, you need to tell him."
     "I know," she sighed again, then turned to look at him. Seeing that
he was still staring at the piano, she reached out and lightly took a hold of
his chin, turning his eyes to face her own. "I will tell him, I promise. But I
have to decide about a few things on my own first." She didn't let go of
his chin, and even gave it a light squeeze to reassure him as she smiled.
     Chip returned the smile, slightly charmed by her bright green eyes
(although he'd never admit it publicly).
     They remained like that for a few seconds more, the silence
between them seeming to gain some sort of weight. Then, ever so slowly,
Kan leaned over, pulling Chip to her, and lightly brushed his lips with her
own. Chip somehow knew what was happening, but felt frozen -- like a
deer caught in the headlights. And the shivers down his spine were *not*
being caused by any air currents.
     But it was just a light kiss, and then she pulled back, dropping her
hand and smiling wider at him. "Thank you."
     "For what?" he heard himself ask.
     "For being here," she answered. "And... for sharing a song with
me." She rose from the bench and quietly walked back out over the dance
floor, down the aisle, and back to the hotel without a word.
     As he reached for his hat, Chip noticed he was trembling.
     "Stop it," he said somewhat weakly.
     He sternly grabbed his hat and put it on, trying to clear up his
fogged brain. He glanced back at the ivory keys, suddenly grinned, and
proceeded to pound the keyboard merrily, careening loud, cacophonous,
childlike sounds off of the walls and back over him. A moment later he
calmly rose from the bench, closed the key cover, and walked back out of
the hall, hands clasped proudly behind his back.
     Dale would have been proud of that use of nervous energy, he
chuckled to himself.

                            Part Two
                   Rehearsal -- Hearse Rental

     "And these are some old friends of mine from back East," Tham
smiled and indicated the two small mice, both having brown fur so dark
that it almost appeared black. They bowed politely to Chip, which he
returned, noticing that one had a white mustache, while the other sported
a pair of small, well-trimmed white sideburns.
     "This is Ding," Tham motioned to the one with the mustache, "and
his brother Dong," he said as he indicated the one with the sideburns.
"They're both from the Hostess clan."
     "How about that?" Chip replied with a smile.
     Most of the guests were gathered in the hall, milling about and
generally socializing. A few, such as Dale and Foxglove, weren't up yet,
but that wasn't a big surprise. The guest count was a fairly modest
number, and was populated by both some of Kan and Tham's old friends
as well as some mutual friends they had with the Rangers; through their
correspondence, the Rangers had told Kan and Tham about a few of their
own close friends, and the engaged couple extended an invitation to them
as well. This was, Tham pointed, a time for celebration and futher
solidifying the bonds of kith.
     Besides, Kan had added, the guest list was pretty small, anyway.
     Thus, in addition to the small group of clan members and friends of
Tham and Kan, a few of the Ranger's affiliations were in attendance, as
well.
     Gadget and Monterey's old friend Janice had arrived that morning,
her young son Henry quietly sleeping in one of the chairs; if no cartoons
were on, it was too early for him to be up. 
     "I'm really glad you could make it," Gadget said as she hugged her
old friend hello.
     "Glad to be here, Gadget," Janice replied as she returned the hug.
"The last wedding I was at was my own, and that was longer ago than I
care to admit."
     Monterey Jack grinned. "Ah, 'fore you know it, Janice, ol' Henry
will be up in front of the altar."
     Janice stole a glance at her sleeping son, and smiled. "Oh, I suspect
no matter when it will happen, it'll be too soon for me. Entrusting
someone else to care for your child is hard to do." She turned and smiled
wider at Monterey. "Besides, I keep hoping that you'll finally meet
someone and settle down first, so I won't be the last to be 'domesticated'
out of our little group."
     Monterey laughed, but Gadget looked puzzled. "How do you mean,
Janice?"
     "Oh, just an old joke, hon," Janice replied. "Geegaw used to tell us,
jokingly, that he was domesticated when he got married, as he wasn't
able to do everything on a whim anymore. Sid -- you never met him,
Gadget -- was the next, and then me. Monterey here is one of the last
ones from our old adventuring group who still hasn't been 'tied by the
knot', as Sid used to say."
     "Well," Monterey nonchalantly twirled his moustache, "I haven't
heard from either Card or Hatch in a long time. They might have been
hitched."
     "Maybe," Janice smiled, "but I want to be at the actual wedding so I
can point and snicker."
     "I'm not sure the future spouse would take it that well," Gadget
replied, but also couldn't help but giggle at the thought of Janice -- of all
people -- doing that during Monterey's wedding.
     "I guess we'll have to wait and see, then," Monterey quipped, "who
catches the timebombs at the reception here."
     "Timebombs?" Gadget blinked.
     "The bouquet and the garter," Janice clarified. "And being single,
we're all vulnerable."
     This thought sobered them for a few seconds before they gave in
and laughed.
     Across the dance floor from them, Chip's close childhood friend
Tim was also present, along with his wife, Catherine, and their three
girls; Cindy, Ann, and Serena. Catherine was carrying Serena this time,
the baby squirrel fast asleep. The preschoolers, Cindy and Ann, were
busy inspecting some of the flowers on the tables, Cindy explaining to
Ann in "older sister" tones what each one was and its history behind it:
     "This is a Lady Flower."
     "What's it do?"
     "It's for the ladies. It... it grows up real big and stuff when the
ladies hold it."
     "Wow...." Ann stared wide-eyed at the small daisy and reached for
it, but Cindy pulled the hand back.
     "No," she chastised Ann in official older sibling tones of
disapproval. "You'll ruin it."
     "I'm a lady!"
     "You're just a girl."
     "Well you touch it, then! I wanna see it get all big."
     "No, I'm just a young lady."
     "Really?"
     "Sure. That's what momma always says. But I'll be a big lady
soon."
     "How long?"
     "I dunno. I heard daddy say we'll be grown before he knows it, so I
guess we'll get big in a few months."
     "Yeah."
     The musicians had arrived last night, as promised, and had already
gone through a few of the numbers. The reception music would be easy;
plenty of old and new favorites that the band had played before. The
tricky part would be the music during the wedding ceremony itself,
mainly meant for the guest waiting outside the shrine. The band hadn't
played appropriate accompanying music for a wedding before, so had
worked on that for most of their practice session last night. From their
spot in front of the Shinto shrine, the music would easily be heard by
those within, so they wanted to be sure they got it right.
     At the moment however, most of the band members were cleaning
instruments, checking music sheets, or even doing a few quiet practice
bars.
     "I don't know, Zipper," Skip shook his head as he looked over his
group and then turned his attention to the CD player and mini-speakers
that had been hooked up. "How much time should we spilt between the
two? I mean, the band wants to be able to get in some dance time
themselves, and there are some things that sound better on CD, too...."
     Don't forget about karaoke, Zipper's buzzing informed.
     "Yeah, yeah, good point," Skip nodded. "Man. Karoke at a
wedding. And I guess what really blows my mind is that this is typical for
a lot of Japanese weddings. They really enjoy it. Why can't we be more
like them?"
     Some of it isn't karaoke, Zipper's posture pointed out. Kan was
telling me of a few people who sing a capella, which is as far from
karaoke as you can get while still being vocal music.
     "Can't argue with you there. I hope I have enough selections, then.
But if they ask me to play the Funky Chicken, they'll be disappointed."
     Can't say as you'll be disappointing me, Zipper chuckled.
     "Okay, everyone," Tham clapped his hands a couple of times to get
the crowd's attention. "Let's go ahead and do a dry run, then. All of you
who aren't directly involved in the ceremony are free to leave now, if you
wish, or wait here. Right now, we only need those of you who will be part
of the actual ceremony."
     The Rangers and Foxglove said their goodbyes to the various guests
who took their leave, then everyone involved in the ceremony fell into
place behind Tham and headed in towards the shrine. Kan. However,
stopped everyone except for her fiance at the front of it, knowing that
none of them would know the proper etiquette needed to enter. Tham
went over to the side of the shrine where (to the confusion of Foxglove
and the Rangers) he proceeded to clean his hands and mouth in some
basins set up apparently for that purpose, before disappearing inside the
shrine.
     "What was that all about?" Dale asked for the group.
     "Part of the procedure of entering the shrine," Kan replied, taking
point to lead them step-by-step through it. "First, you should know that
this entrance gate, called the torii, is purposefully built to block people
outside from seeing inside, and vice versa. It separates the secular world
from the spiritual one. Very much like within Catholic Churches,
stepping inside here is entering a very sacred and solemn place of
worship.
     "That reminds me," she said, turning to face the group of
Westerners. "Does anyone here have an open wound? Is in mourning?
Sick?"
     "Mentally?" Chip grinned at Dale, who looked back with a look of
total non-comprehension.
     "Why would that matter, Kan?" Gadget inquired.
     "They are considered impure," Kan replied. "The shrine is a place
to seek good fortune and turn away evil spirits, so great care is taken to
ensure that it remains free from impure influences." She then motioned
them over to the basins on the side. "Before entering, you must cleanse
your hands and mouth with fresh water, to purify you." She proceeded to
do so, then stepped aside to give the others room. They heard a couple of
claps from within the shrine, then silence.
     Dale felt like he was at his mother's house for Thanksgiving dinner
as he washed up, but still thought it was kind of cool. Maybe this meant
they'd be serving snacks inside.
     They followed Kan into the shrine, where Tham was standing still,
eyes closed.
     "Is he praying?" Foxglove asked, not sure if it was that or he was
asleep.
     Kan nodded, though, and replied quietly, "Yes. You don't need to
worry about it unless you plan to pray, but if so, you bow deeply twice,
clap twice, and bow deeply once more before praying. Before that,
though, you would drop an offering of some kind into the box," she
motioned to a modest box near the front of the room.
     The Rangers and Foxglove glanced about, now that they were
inside for the first time. The walls were black with red trim, and only a
few simple objects were seen, including the box. One of them, Chip
recognized, was a small standing tray with the nuptial cups Tham had
informed them of last night. The Shinto priest who was waiting near the
center of the room smiled warmly at them, his fur a rich brown with
faded spots of tan, indicating his elderly stature.
     He was flanked by two small, young, female mice dressed in white,
apparently in their late teens. Tham had mentioned that they were the
assistants to the priest, called Miko, and as in most cases, were the
priest's daughters. They smiled politely in greeting to the visitors.
     Everyone got into their places as the dry run started, the Shinto
priest explaining to each Ranger what their purpose was in the ceremony,
while Kan and Tham were already aware of the procedures for their
wedding.
     Even during the build-up to this momentous occasion, Chip had to
wonder in the back of his mind what was going on in the criminal
underworld. But he chided himself on pondering over crime-fighting
when he should be devoting his attention to Kan and Tham's marriage,
which they all had been honored enough to participate in.
     If some underworld slime was slithering about, they'd hear about it
soon enough.

                         *     *     *

     "Is everything in place?" Morty asked his underlings as they
prepared to move out with their groups to the Ivy Crest.
     "Yeah boss, all set," Harvey (a.k.a. The Wonder Hamster),
answered with a nod. "We'll be ready to rock n' roll come the signal."
     "Good." Morty nodded, then walked to the front of the assembled
crowd, and projected his voice in the manner that only a trained
professional speaker knew how. "If I may offer you one piece of advice
for tonight, it's to avoid direct one-on-one fights. There will
undoubtably be several martial artists there, and each one of them will be
able to wipe the floor with your scalps, even if they've consumed enough
alcohol to stun a bull elephant. You all suck compared to them, so save
yourselves the humiliation and pain of trying to take them on
individuality.
     "You all have the advantage of numbers; use it. Gang up
mercilessly on them. Fight dirty. Kick them in the shins. Hit them with
small, blunt objects from behind. Don't let any of them trick you with
that honor crud. Upturn tables at them, throw dishes at them, anything it
takes to beat them without fighting fair. We are the scum of the animal
society; let's start acting like it."
     A loud cheer rose up in support of Morty's simple, but informative
advice. Sometimes, speaking bluntly worked so much better than the
false padding of egos.

                         *     *     *

     "Hello handsome."
     Dale and Zipper blinked and glanced around. They had been
heading back to the ceremonial hall after their quick trip to the cafe, while
everyone else was settling in for some more introductions. The rehearsal
had finished a while ago, those involved in the ceremony knowing their
respective parts -- Dale had even crafted a cheat sheet for himself, just to
be on the safe side.
     Now the chipmunk and the fly stopped at the corner of the stairs,
where the corridor leading from the hall emptied out into the lobby.
     "You hear something?" Dale asked Zipper, who nodded in return,
then pointed to a female mouse-like animal. Dale wasn't sure of her
precise species, but Zipper's ongoing general research into all the animals
which might eat him (which was a distressingly large amount) allowed
the sharp-minded fly to place her as a water vole.
     Makes sense, he thought to himself. She'd like to be by the
waterfront.
     The lady, about the same age of Dale, smiled at him with what
could only be described as predator's eyes, as if she were sizing him up
in the same manner of a tasty snack. Dale felt the same nervous shiver he
had when Kan first shot him what she called her Ultimate Tease [TM]
gaze. The water vole's eyes were a rich, coal black, while her fur-tight
dress nicely revealed her hourglass figure. Long, luxurious, rich deep
brown hair smoothly ran from her head around her bare shoulders, so
enticingly in view thanks to the strapless evening gown. Indeed, there was
more of her supple, tawny fur in view than the reddish-violet weave of
her dress.
     Dale longed for Foxglove's presence -- he needed protection
desperately.
     She elegantly swayed over to the him, lightly running a pair of
slender fingers up along his shirt, murmuring, "You know how much I
*love* Hawaiian shirts?"
     "Uh...." Dale struggled for a snappy response. "No." Not quite what
he felt a witty reply should consist of, but the best he could do on such
short notice.
     Zipper glanced back and forth between Dale and the advancing
maneater, wondering if he should try to intervene or just enjoy a few
laughs.
     "I think there's something I should tell you," she whispered lightly,
expertly playing with the small tuft of fur on his chest.
     "Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-what's that?" Dale masterfully replied.
Man, he thought, Dirk Suave makes this look so *easy*! How's he do it?
     Zipper, meanwhile, had settled back on the check-in counter with
some chips to enjoy the show. Cable couldn't hold up to live events like
this.
     Meanwhile, the mysterious water vole gave a throaty chuckle and
leaned up a bit to Dale's ears. For his own part, Dale acted like most prey
victims do as a last resort; remain absolutely rigid in hopes the predator
would mistake you for dead and wander off in search of live prey. Thus,
his rigor mortis had already dug in and set-up base camp as her full lips
brushed against the very edge of his ears, her voluptuous figure pressed
firmly against him as she stood on her tip-toes to reach.
     Only a few seconds of whispering, and then she drew back.
     Only a few minutes of petrified fear, and Dale's brain had finally
managed to get the choke out and start up again after a few yanks on the
pullcord.
     "What?" he finally managed, all nervousness now replaced by
confusion.
     Zipper frowned. Show's over already?
     The enticing woman merely gave him a long, inviting wink, then
slowly sashayed away, towards the cafe. She paused long enough to cast
a sultry gaze back over her shoulder at him and add, "A pleasure to meet
you, kind sir. I'll be around." Then, knowing full well it would take Dale
several more minutes before he remembered how to operate his eyelids,
let alone his limbs, she gracefully moved off and disappeared into the
cafe.
     Zipper sighed at the quick wrap-up to the entertainment, then flitted
over to Dale to help speed him along the path of recovery. Stretching out
Dale's tail fully, he let it snap back with considerable force.
     "Ow!" Dale jumped, firmly returned to reality thanks to his pain
sensors. He lightly rubbed the sore spot, then turned to face Zipper. "I
wish you'd figure out a better way to bring me around than that," he
grumbled.
     Zipper just sported an innocent grin, showing that the fly was
merely attempting to resurrect a fellow Ranger.
     "Yeah, whatever," Dale mumbled, starting to limp back to the hall.
"Well, that was really strange."
     What's that? Zipper chuckled. Another knockout female coming on
to you?
     "Yeah--hey!" Dale frowned at Zipper, then looked thoughtful.
"Well, actually, yeah."
     This made Zipper blink. Come again?
     "Well, it wasn't a come-on," Dale explained, crossing his arms in
puzzlement. "It was a message, from Sewer Al."
     Zipper glanced back to where they had last spotted the water vole,
then looked back to Dale, waiting.
     "She said that after the ruckus tonight, we should meet Sewer Al.
He has some information for us."
     For us? Zipper stroked his chin as he thought. But he never solicits
information; people always come to him.
     "And he never gives out free advice," Dale agreed as they headed
back to the secluded hall. "A hefty price of books always follows."
     Maybe he thinks we have a book he's after? Zipper's shrug
suggested.
     "Maybe," Dale replied. "But I don't trust him, Zip. He's too
creepy."
     While I don't think his creepiness has much to do with it, Zipper's
wry grin responded, I do agree that he's not the sort I'd turn my back on.
He'd just as soon kill you as save you, if the price is right.
     "Yeah, and this sudden offer of help stinks more than his home
does." Dale sighed. "But I gotta hand it to him, whatever he gets out of
his deals, he does come through. I mean, if he really does have something
to tell us, I bet it's real important."
     Zipper nodded glumly, then motioned that he wondered what that
water vole meant by a ruckus, though. This was just a rehearsal, after all,
not the actual reception.
     "I dunno, Zip," Dale said. "Unless there's some party going on we
don't know about, I dunno what she means by--"
     The two Rangers stopped dead in their tracks as they turned the
corner to the closed heavy double doors, which led into the hall. Various
shouts and screams seeped through.
     "Ruckus," Dale finished while he and Zipper stayed there in a
momentary daze, then burst forward.
     Kicking the doors to open them, Dale yelped and fell back, his foot
bouncing harmlessly off the thick wood. The doors had been barred shut
from the other side. He gasped as he carefully stood up; his foot was in
pain, but didn't seem to be sprained or broken.
     Zipper looked helplessly at the barred portal -- he certainly couldn't
knock them open when Dale couldn't, and there were no small openings
or crevices for him to slip through, either.
     The agitated housefly turned to his friend. What do we do? We have
to get in there!
     "I know, I know!" Dale glanced about, but honestly couldn't recall
any other ways in.
     Zipper quickly squeaked out his plan to go get help, as maybe the
manager or desk clerk would know of another way.
     "Good idea," Dale nodded. "I'll keep working on the doors, just in
case."
     As Zipper shot back out to the rest of the hotel, Dale backed up a
bit, settled into a linebacker's crouch, and then shot off to ram himself
fiercely against the double doors. His rebound sent him bouncing down
the hall a few inches, and ended with him flopping over face-first to the
floor.
     "This isn't working...." he grumbled to himself in a daze.

     The inside of the hall, was, as Dale and Zipper feared, the site of a
massive brawl. And for the first time in several years, Tham was worried
about the outcome.
     It was too late to order replacement place settings, after all.
     For years to come, Kan and Tham's wedding rehearsal would
always be remembered for Kan's rallying cry: "Save the dinnerware!"
She held great faith in her guest's ability to not only defeat these
"gangsters" -- as they called themselves -- but also to accomplish their
victory with minimal harm to themselves.
     She was not, however, so hopeful about her wedding ceremony
ordinances. Particularly when a number of the intruders started
attempting to use them as weapons. Kan wanted her wedding to be
perfect, and if any of these attacking goons so much as nicked a plate or
scratched a table... well, she would have to ask that the children leave at
once.
     Not that they could, sadly. The gangsters had popped in out of
nowhere, apparently from some access tunnels of some sort near the back
walls. As others poured in, the first ones through had shut the doors and
barred them before the surprised occupants could react. The invaders than
claimed that "...the gangsters of the sewers..." were going to do a "good
ol' fashioned lootin' and pillagin'", and for their supposed "victims" to
put up a fight. It would make the whole thing more satisfying.
     Kan had no clue if this was typical behavior for Western criminals,
but she doubted it, otherwise this stupidity would have allowed the A.P.F.
to keep the criminal activities down to jaywalking and littering.
     Whatever the collective I.Q. of the attackers, Kan and the rest of the
wedding party decided to oblige them. When the gangsters made their
initial rush, the wedding party, led by Monterey, had met them head on.
Tham had tried to interject and at least attempt to settle things non-
violently, but Kan (and Monterey) would not give him the chance.
Monterey enjoyed brawls too much.
     And Kan's wedding rehearsal had been interrupted, quite possibly
causing a delay to the actual event.
     She needed to work through a lot of sudden negative emotions, and
beating the interlopers senseless seemed like an excellent way to achieve
such an end.
     Foxglove was flying overhead, grateful for the spacious interior and
high ceiling of the hall. She really wasn't a fighter, but still wanted to
help out her friends. Her manner of assistance quickly turned out to be a
rescue service for the constant presence of airborne dishes, gifts, and
other items being tossed in the air, whether accidentally or purposefully.
Soon, all of her time was devoted to snatching breakables out of their
current arc, swooping over to a secluded corner of the hall, and carefully
placing them down before going back for another load. 
     In her haste on one of these errands, she failed to notice one of the
crooks approach menacingly on Janice, who had placed herself in
between him and Henry. The small boy had been asleep before the attack
started, and was proving he was a true deep sleeper, not having even
stirred once during the entire event thus far.
     Janice looked at the encroaching mouse with horror and fright.
"Surely you wouldn't harm a mother who's merely trying to protect her
only child?!" she pleaded.
     The mouse looked at Henry, sleeping peacefully in one of the pews.
"Uh, no, I guess--"
     Janice cut him off with a powerful right hook to his jaw, quickly
followed by a sharp rabbit punch. As he doubled over in pain, a strong
uppercut sent him flat on his back, out cold.
     "That's what I was counting on," she explained cheerfully to the 
unconscious form sprawled out on the floor.
     Things weren't as simple in the dining area by the dance floor, as
the battle cry reminded people.
     "We cannot fight if we are too busy saving the plates and floral
arrangements," Tham grumbled to Monterey, the two of them not
fighting so much as preventing their oppenonets from breaking anything.
     "I think that's their plan, mate," Monterey couldn't help but chuckle
in reply as he snagged a few more teacups out of the air and set them
down quickly, just in time to defend himself from another attacker.
     "We need to move them away from the tables," Tham continued,
balancing a stack of plates in one hand while he blocked one of the gang
member's attacks with the other arm. "You think you can handle it?" He
grinned to Monterey, who merely laughed in response.
     "Too right, mate!" the boisterous Aussie exclaimed, diving for
Tham's attacker, he and Tham effectively suddenly switching enemies.
Monterey tackled the outmatched thug easily, hoisted him overhead, and
made a shotput throw to make any Olympian turn green with envy. The
crook, despite his flailing, sailed clear over the tables, landing squarely in
the aisle, about halfway down to barred double-doors. As he struggled to
his feet, he was knocked flat again by one of his fellow partners in crime
who had wound up too close to Monterey's catapulting service.
     Janice stepped up from behind and politely convinced the two
crooks to remain motionless by knocking each of them out with an
effective punch to the head.
     Henry yawned, stretched, rolled over, and continued to sleep.
     "The cake!" Gadget screamed in alarm -- she, like all the other
guests, rightly believed in the rallying cry.
     Chip snapped his head around from his current adversary to see a
mouse start to hoist the top layer up, in order to throw, no doubt. Needing
to get over there in a hurry, Chip abandoned tact and swiftly kicked his
foe in the shin. When the thug bent over in pain, a pair of Chip's forked
fingers jabbed in the ganagster's eyes, momentarily incapacitating him
and allowing Chip to dash off towards the latest crisis.
     Crouching down best he could while making a run for it, Chip
sprang directly for the mouse at the cake, catching him in mid-turn
perfectly. The tackle knocked the cake layer up out of the mouse's hands
harmlessly, but as Chip rammed into the ground with the criminal, the
leader of the Rescue Rangers knew he was too preoccupied to catch the
cake layer himself.
     "Skip!" he yelled out, hoping his old friend was nearby.
     "What?" Skip's voice replied.
     "Cake!"
     "What?" Skip repeated, then spotted the descending piece of
bakery, and his heart dropped. He doubted Kan would take it out on him
if her wedding's formality was diminished due to the cake being
incomplete, but he had no desire to test this theory.
     A strong horizonal jump landed him on his stomach, sliding directly
under the flavorful dessert moments before it would have smashed into
oblivion against the hardwood floor. His hands caught it delicately, so as
not to damage it; sadly, his head did not receive as gentle treatment as it
thumped into a table leg, putting him on "time out" status for a few
moments. Fortunately, at least it had brought him to a halt; a few more
inches would have placed him at the feet of a ring of invaders who had
surrounded Ding and Dong.
     Even worse, all of these mobsters finally got a clue and had grabbed
the knifes and forks from the tables. Now armed, they had intended to
make short work of these two fairly slow-looking mice.
     They were, naturally, dead wrong.
     The oriental mice had each managed to snatch up two pairs of
chopsticks; one for each hand. In a dazzling display of "woodwork", they
effortlessly used the chopsticks to deflect each jab and thrust of the metal
implements of dining, never breaking the chopsticks or getting them
caught. Fighting back-to-back, the brothers didn't speak a single word to
each other. In fact, they seemed to be humming a duet.
     An attacker blinked, which Dong was quick to capitalize on;
snapping out his chopsticks, the martial artist caught the opposing
mouse's whiskers firmly and pulled the entire head down, directly into an
oncoming foot.
     The unconscious attacker's knife clattered to the floor, and Ding
swung his foot around, kicking it up in mid-bounce and sending it end-over
-end through the air towards Tham. He gave a quick shout to Tham,
who took one look, snagged the knife in midair, and redirected its course
with far more power and speed. The humble piece of cutlery finally ended
its exciting life as a projectile as the handle bounced solidly off of the
head of a gangster on the other side of the dining area. The victim, never
having even seen the speeding object, collapsed with a grunt to the floor
right behind Gadget, who had been too busy tying up the growing
number of downed oppenents to even notice the thug's unconscious form
lying only centimeters away.
     She looked up curiously, still oblivious to the body behind her.
     "Someone call me?" Her eyes glanced about, but didn't see anyone
looking at her. She shrugged and went back to work, wishing she had
brought a Syrup-Slinger along. Her contemplations prevented her from
noticing yet another criminal's body sailing high overhead to crash in the
growing pile near Janice.
     The widow was getting worried, now. Sooner or later, some of
these party crashers were going to wise up and approach her as a serious
opponent. Worse yet, they might get the idea to use Henry as a hostage.
She had no desire to try and carry Henry through the hall-wide battle, and
glancing up, grinned when she spotted the little boy's salvation.
     "Foxglove!"
     The bat swiveled in mid-air, changing her course to swing in
towards Janice. "What?"
     "Can you be a dear and drop Henry off in a safe corner?" She held
up her sleeping son. "Better yet, gently set him down? I'd hate for him to
wake up right now."
     "Can do!" Foxglove assured her, swooping in and grabbing Henry
as gently as she could. She quickly flapped to rise over the level of
airborne items around her; plates, chairs, gangsters propelled by
Monterey. Once clear, she easily glided over to place Henry behind the
growing pile of breakables in the corner. Inwardly, she knew she had to
be careful not to wake him -- an active little boy near a large pile of
fragile objects would be courting disaster.
     Henry twitched slightly in Foxglove's grasp, but remained asleep as
she delicately settled him down, even covering him with a tablecloth she
had rescued. He smiled as he snuggled up, and Foxglove would have
liked to think of this as a tender moment if not for the screams and cries
of battle erupting around them.
     She stood up and launched herself back into the air, then
remembered in a flash that Tim and Catherine were here as well, and they
had young children, too. She became alarmed as she realized that they
might not have been nearly as lucky as Janice had been in avoiding
endangerment to her child.
     Circling over the room, she scanned the confusion below as best
she could, calling out for Tim and Catherine. An answering call from the
edge of the dining area grabbed her attention, and enabled her to spot
Tim waving frantically to her. He was half-hidden under one of the
tables, and as the bat swooped down in, she spotted the rest of his family
tucked away under it, behind him.
     "I can get the girls to a safe corner," Foxglove quickly explained
over the din of background shouts.
     Tim quickly nodded his appreciation, and quickly ushered up Ann
and Cindy. The girls were frightened, but their father kissed them each on
the head and promised them that they would be okay. Ann and Cindy
shivered, but nodded bravely. Their daddy didn't lie to them.
     Foxglove hopped up in a hover and held each girl gently, but firmly,
in one of her claws. Tim handed Serena over Ann, kissing the baby as
well before Foxglove sweep up into the air, and headed for safety, the
girls being carried free from danger.
     "They're safe," Tim sighed in relief as he watched Foxglove settle
out of sight behind the pile of wedding decorations in the corner. "Now
we just need to get over there ourselves."
     "How?" Catherine winced at the fighting between them and the
edge of the dining area.
     "I'm not sure, but Foxglove is leaving the pile, probably to help out
the others some more. We need to get over there to protect the girls on
the off-chance some brute wanders over that way."
     Catherine looked around again, worried. "I guess we'll just have to
make a break for it and hope for the best." She fretted. "If only we had a
blocker of some kind!"
     Tim glanced up at the table, then smiled. "Works for me."
     Long ago, Catherine had learned that when her husband had that
boyish glint in his eyes, it was officially time to worry.
     It was why she had fallen in love with him in the first place, after
all.
     Chip grappled with yet another party-crasher, this time over by the
musicians area. The thug had tried to lift a chair up to use as a weapon,
but Chip had grabbed it, and now they were fighting over a seat even
worse than several Star Wares fans did during the premiere of the latest
film.
     The thug blinked as he felt Chip's force go slack suddenly, and saw
the chipmunk looking behind him with an expression of shock. Not about
to fall for it, the crook yanked the chair free and was about to bash it over
Chip's head when the Ranger turned and bolted. The thug turned around
just in time to catch the full brunt of a charging perpendicular table,
powered by two determined parents.
     They barreled through several of the crooks, and once they reached
the edge of the dining area, dropped it and darted down to the heap of
breakables in the corner. Kan watched them go with a frown, but when
she saw them embrace their kids, the bride immediately dismissed the
table as an acceptable loss.
     She'd just make a new one from the bones of these uninvited
guests.
     
     Zipper had just arrived at the front desk, but before he could
frantically flag down one of the desk clerks, he spotted a large raccoon
heading down the stairwell. This garnered the sharp-eyed fly's attention
for two reasons.
     First, it was a tight fit for the raccoon; the Ivy Crest mainly catered
to animals of rodent-size. Raccoons, cats, dogs, and other larger animals
would find the accommodations somewhat cramped.
     Secondly -- and far more important -- Zipper spotted the ornamental
object which was being held by the raccoon.
     That's the Time Blade! Zipper's shocked glare read. What are
*you* doing with it?!
     "I'm stealing it," Morty replied with a sigh, not bothering to stop
walking towards the door. "I thought it would be obvious."
     Zipper flitted over in front of the raccoon and held out his hand
imposingly.
     Not so fast, the solemn fly's posture read.
     Ironically, Morty moved faster than Zipper would have guessed,
plucking him from the air with his free hand. Only Zipper's head was
free of the raccoon's grasp.
     "That was really stupid," Morty observed to his captive. "I'm
amazed you've managed to avoid no-pest strips this long."
     Zipper's uncomfortable squeaks expressed that there was no need to
get insulting. Morty merely rolled his eyes and shook his head, then
glanced back around. People were now watching him with surprise.
Certainly, his current position probably made them wonder if he was
going to kill Zipper. He didn't have any intention of it offhand; crushing
the fly bare-handed was too messy for his tastes. Glancing at the watch
on the wall, he decided it might better to go and clear out the hall. Zipper
was probably out here to get help, after all. Morty figured that by now, his
thugs were getting their senses beaten in, and could use a humiliating
rescue from their boss.
     "Excuse us," Morty said to the gathering crowd. "I think this bug
and I are needed elsewhere." As he headed down the hallway, the rodents
could only glance at each other in puzzlement and apathy. Morty knew in
a few minutes one of them would finally evolve to a phylum with a
backbone, and notify security. A few minutes was all he needed,
however.
     What are you doing? Zipper managed to squeak out, only to be
answered by a contraction of Morty's fist. The fly gasped for breath,
coughing slightly at the forced exhalation.
     "Be quiet and you'll find out," the raccoon replied evenly.
     They rounded the last corner to find Dale still striving and pushing
with all his might against the unyielding double doors.
     "They're barred from the other side," Morty offered, causing Dale
to glance up in surprise and momentarily elation.
     "All right, Zip must've gotten help!" Dale grinned, then noticed
Zipper was present. Alarmingly, in the raccoon's tightened fist. Zipper
gave Dale a slight simper, letting the chipmunk know things had jumped
from "Bad Bad" to "Bad Bad Bad Bad".
     The three of them stood in an awkward silence for a few moments.
Dale felt something profound should be said, but all he think of was to
state the obvious. Lacking anything more worthwhile to say, he decided
to give it a shot.
     "Uhm, you've got Zipper, you know."
     "Yes. Yes, I do."
     "Uh, I also see you have the Time Blade."
     "Yes. Yes, I do."
     Dale scratched his head and looked at the large raccoon who was
conveniently blocking the only exit out of this current dead end.
     "You... uh..." Dale started, then smiled at Morty. "You're a bad
guy, aren't you?"
     "Yes. Yes, I am." The raccoon nodded amiably.
     Zipper was starting to get a little annoyed. *He* hadn't been shown
this courtesy when the raccoon first met him. Of course, Zipper had
willfully attempted to thwart the raccoon's escape -- if one could consider
walking down the stairs an escape -- so maybe he had it coming.
     "My name is Morty," the raccoon went on, tucking the Time Blade
under his other arm and extending his free paw to Dale for a friendly
shake.
     "Pleased to met you. My name's Dale," Dale replied in kind, his
mind's auto-reset feature kicking in. He walked over and shook Morty's
large paw affably.
     "May I call you Battering Dale?"
     Dale frowned. "Why?"

     Kan spun around with a start at the loud noise of breaking wood. At
first, she feared they had lost the buffet table, or maybe part of the shrine,
as the echos made it difficult to say from whence the noise originated
from. But the next sound effectively answered that question.
     "Zipper is going to be pulped into every camper's favorite drink:
bug juice," a dry, cynical voice cut through the rumble, "unless I receive
all of your undivided attention." Everyone halted their current endeavor,
and turned to face the speaker. It was a large raccoon, wearing a black
and white jean jacket, standing in the doorway, and holding up a captured
Zipper in his hands for all to see.
     To prove he was in a splendid position to carry out his threat, Morty
squeezed Zipper forcefully. Zipper squeaked out in pain, and Morty
chuckled.
     "Better than a rubber duckie."
     As Kan moved slowly over to better see down the aisle, she spotted
what caused the doors to splinter in through the crossbeam that had been
holding them shut: poor Dale was strewn out over the remains of the
double doors, having been heaved through them with massive force. Even
though he was not quite out, it was obvious that he was not going to be of
any help for a while.
     "I a rodeo bullfighter...." he mumbled, not moving.
     "Dale!" Foxglove swooped down to the fallen chipmunk, Morty
merely watching her carefully. Once he was satisfied that her attention
was reserved for the badly-dressed Rescue Ranger, he looked back up to
his awaiting audience.
     "Ladies and gentleman," he announced in a crisp, projected voice,
"boys and girls, and my henchmen; it is time that I, and my collages, take
our leave. Please, do not attempt to stop us, follow us, or do anything else
which would hinder our departure. I rightly doubt your desire to have this
impending marriage marred by the death of one of your guests."
     Zipper struggled, but Morty's grip was too strong, and his hand was
too big for Zipper to effectively maneuver in. Zipper had hoped to use the
standard escape procedure of biting Morty's hand, but the larger
mammal's fur was thick and coarse enough to block most of the pain,
even if Zipper *could* manage to reach over for an effective bite.
     Morty's thugs slowly began to head towards the exit, the
unconscious ones being carried out. Tham did a quick visual check
around; all of the guests seemed to be in good health. Skip was rubbing
his head, but was standing and otherwise unharmed. The cake was
separated, but not mashed or destroyed. A few chairs and tables had been
banged up, but none broken. All the breakables were safely in the far
corner, intact, thanks to Foxglove.
     The cool-headed groom directed his attention to Morty, now,
studying the raccoon for when they next met -- knowing his bride, she
would be adamant on such a reunion. It was then that he noticed the other
object carried by Morty.
     Tham's Time Blade. Tham's sole link to his parents. Tham's
*birthright*.
     Instinctively, he broke into a run, hurdling from pew to pew, closing
the distance between him and his treasured family heirloom in mere
seconds. He flipped over the last few, tucking himself into a ball as he
sailed over the startled crooks in the asile to land squarely in front of
Morty, fists raised--
     --and lowered immediately as Morty squeezed Zipper harshly once
more, causing the small fly to screech in pain.
     "Truth be told," Morty stated evenly, staring Tham in the eyes, "I
have no more desire to smear this bug than you do. It's such a mess, and
an utterly annoying hassle to clean off from my fur. And if the stain sets
in before I can wash it out, you can pretty much forget about removing it
short of shaving off the actual fur. Very inconveniencing.
     "I *will* kill Zipper, however, if you do not cooperate."
     Tham's clenched fists remained tight. But they also remained
lowered.
     "If you think you can strike fast enough to save your friend here,"
Morty grinned sardonically, "I invite you to try. It's a great test of
reflexes: can you leap over and knock me out before Zipper is reduced to
window caulking?"
     The oriental mouse slowly unballed his hands.
     "Smart." Morty nodded to his men, who started to exit through the
double doors. "Very smart."
     "Know you this," Tham suddenly stated, "the Time Blade is my
family's most cherished object. It holds the spirits of my ancestors to this
world and binds my soul to theirs. No matter where you go with it, I shall
follow. No matter how you try to hide, I shall find you. No matter how
much you beg, I shall show no mercy for this breach of my sacred bond
with my family's heritage."
     Morty gazed at him in wonder. Could anyone really talk this
cheesy? This guy must've taken dialogue pointers from "Kung Fu: The
Serial".
     "I don't care," he finally explained. "I'm only in it for the money.
Take care, now, and give the bride a big, wet kiss for me, hmm?" He
chuckled and waved as the last of his gang exited, then backed out of the
doorway himself and around the corner. His thugs were ready, and
quickly began barricading the entranceway shut with plant holders and
furniture they had gathered from the hallway.
     The group being blocked in could do little more than clench their
teeth and hope Zipper was released. After the barricade was finished and
the gangsters were no longer heard, Tham was the first to leap at the pile
of obstructions, driven by unbridled anger as he tore through the planters
and tables. He was joined by the rest of the wedding party quickly, but
even with their help, it took far longer than Tham would have wanted to
clear away the heavy, bulky furniture that had been erected to block their
path.
     By the time the group cleared a way through, the criminals were
long gone. A quick round of questions of the staff and guests in the lobby
offered no leads. The gang was last seen slipping through a curb sewer --
they could be anywhere in the maze of tunnels below the city by now.
     While the group waiting in the lobby for the hotel staff to clean up
the mess in the hallway and wedding area, Tham stood rigid as a jade
statue at the doorway, staring out at nothing. Kan quietly stepped up next
to her beloved fiance, slipping an arm around his waist and leaning into
him. Her own desire for revenge over her wedding being disrupted now
seemed small and insignificant in comparison to what Tham had lost.
Morty didn't understand it, but he truly did steal part of Tham's soul.
     Unlike dinnerware and wedding plans, Tham's loss was
irreplaceable.

                         *     *     *

     Gadget's miner's helmet light pierced the blanketing darkness
cleanly, providing a clear path for her and her friends to follow as they
crept along the treacherous and slippery ledge within the sewage drain.
She wrinkled her nose at the odors which assaulted her olfactory senses,
and tried not to think about what may make up the black ooze that slid
through the water below. Falling in it probably wouldn't be lethal, but
creatures which lurked just below the surface could undoubtably pick up
the slack. That wasn't counting possible disease, infection, or
inflammations, either.
     For someone who worked with grease and oil a lot, she suddenly
found herself appreciating the benifits of a clean working environment.
     Behind her, the rest of the Rangers and their friends grumbled
occasionally, voicing their agreement to her own thoughts. Chip and Dale
also carried penlights, but had them off. The penlights were modified by
Gadget, who had pumped up the amount of lumens created to act as
effective blinders for any possible predators. The increased power use
drained the batteries quickly, however, so the chipmunks only used them
in case of an attack. Gadget's own lamp provided them with enough light
for now.
     Monterey followed behind the chipmunks, keeping more of an eye
out for things to the side or above. He wouldn't mind scouting up ahead
of them a little ways, but in the twisting corridors of the sewers and
oppressive blackness, it would be too dangerous.
     Foxglove, on the other hand, could handle herself the best out of the
group, but had no desire to prove it. Her exceptional hearing was more of
a detraction than a boon in this case. It was so quiet and still that the
slightest and most insignificant noise was magnified and echoed about
her mockingly. This, by itself, was not a problem -- having lived in caves,
Foxglove was well adept at getting past echos and finding the true
direction of a sound.
     But that had been within caves; natural, warm, inviting spaces
where the silence and darkness was a protecting element. The sewers had
an altogether different feel to it. The cold darkness hid who knows how
many horrors and creatures, while the silence only inflataed the smallest
of noise fragments to be heard, leaving her to wonder what could have
caused it, and how big it might really be. This was foreign territory for
the bat, and her acute senses did nothing more than drive that fact home
in the most nerve-wracking way, much like a child distrusts a lonesome
basement.
     She clung tightly to Dale, only this time out of a need for security
rather than as a sign of affection. Fortunately, Dale had braved this path
before, and calmed her with a wide smile and reassuring pat on the wing.
     He wouldn't let her get hurt.
     Bringing up the rear of the group were Tham and Kan. At first, the
Rangers told them there was no need to come along -- they would merely
be going to obtain some information (they hoped) and then return to the
Ivy Crest before venturing off to find Morty. The raccoon was their only
lead to the whereabouts of Zipper.
     Kan and Tham, however, refused to wait behind. Tham explained
calmly but quite unconditionally that he would be with the Rangers every
step on this one -- he had just as a vested interest in finding Morty as the
Rangers did. And even though he didn't voice it, Kan knew that he felt
his cause was more important: Zipper was capable of thinking for himself
and might escape by his own accord. The Time Blade had no such
advantage.
     Rather than waste time trying to dissuade them, the Rangers had
agreed. While they weren't too comfortable with Tham's resolute thirst
for payback -- even if it was justified -- they also couldn't that deny his
determination was firmly set. With or without them, he would seek his
heirloom, so they might as well work together. Kan, naturally, would not
hear of being parted from her fiance, especially during this stressful time,
and thus was currently side by side with him as they marched down the
slick and broken concrete walkway lining the sewers.
     "Not much further," Gadget informed the group, her voice echoing
all too loudly for comfront in the stillness surrounding them.
     "We shoulda brought the Ranger Plane, or something," Dale
grumbled. "Could've been there and back by now."
     "You know that would be asking for trouble, Dale," Chip remarked
as quietly as the echoing pipes allowed him to. "The noise they make
would alert every predator within a mile of us, and even if we managed to
outdistance any pursuers, the chances for getting lost are too high to
risk."
     "Honestly?" Kan queried. Tham was brooding, she could tell, and
was hoping that a little conversation might help unwind his nerves, at
least marginally. "These tunnels are that convoluted?"
     "Well, when you're being chased by somethin', you usually don't
take the time to leave a trail of bread crumbs," Monterey chuckled.
"Kinda defeats the purpose." He glanced at Kan with a amused smile;
expecting trouble, she had taken a tip from the ninja, and was swathed in
black clothes, although she had her head uncovered at the moment. The
result was that at first glance, she looked like nothing more than a head
bobbing along in the darkness.
     "It's more than that, Kan," Gadget added as she continued to lead
the way. "All the tunnels look alike. Turn the wrong way, and you might
not realize it until you're already hopelessly lost. And creatures down
here tend to be larger and very mean to trespassers or possible food
sources."
     "Can we drop this subject?" Dale was glancing about fervently, all
his nights of horror film fests coming back in full to haunt him.
     "Sorry, Dale," Gadget smiled back at her friend, then returned her
attention to navigating the sewers.
     "Seems odd that the sewers are so complex," Kan commented.
     "It's a big city," Chip pointed out. "And a lot of these sewers run
parallel, above, or below old subway lines and the like. Cave-ins and
animals burrowing through have interconnected them all into one huge
maze."
     "Fortunately," Gadget smiled as they rounded a corner, "Sewer Al's
place is one of the only places that is actually mapped out."
     Kan and Tham blinked as they looked into the looming cavern, the
sudden appearance of light causing them to shield their eyes for a few
moments.
     The Rangers easily, but warily, made their way up the door of the
half-buried subway car. It was closed, but the light coming from within
signaled that their old associate (and adversary) was home. Tham was
momentarily taken out of his hardened emotional state by the rather
striking living space. It was well-lit, and actually clean -- an impressive
feat considering the surrounding area. The light was strong, casting 
hard-edged and sharp shadows around them on the walls, ceiling, and pillars.
Either the face of barren concrete reflecting the pale light was seen, or the
opaque shadows, hiding whatever the mind could imagine within their
fold.
     The Rangers were aware of this, but not as overcome by it as they
used to be. They always got a distinctive sense of dread from the desolate
dwelling, but had learned to push it to the back of their minds. It was
more difficult this time around, though, as Sewer Al never had felt the
need to call for them. He stood something to gain from this meeting, and
a trap could not be ruled out.
     While the other Rangers and Foxglove keep an open eye -- and ear -- 
out, Chip stepped up to the door and lightly rapped on it.
     "Sewer Al?" he called, managing to keep the waver out of his voice.
"It's Chip. We got your message."
     There's was a moment's pause, during which Foxglove could hear
something massive moving from within the subway car. Simple curtains
were covering the windows, but everyone could see a somewhat
amorphous shape raise up near the back of the car, and move towards the
door. The lighting played tricks on the shades, stretching the form wide
then narrow as it passed over creases and folds in the curtains. As it
moved, the shadow was stretched it out to infinity and then vanished
without warning, only to reappear again behind the subway door.
     A loud -- too loud for any of the small mammal's comfort --
groaning screeched as the door slid open, the light released from within
momentarily blinding everyone outside once more.
     "Welcome, Rescue Rangers," a low voice said, with just the
slightest flavor of a Cajun accent. "I can only assume your mice
companions are Kan Sune and An Tham Sun, but I'm afraid I'm not
aware of the bat's name."
     "F-f-f-foxglove," she stammered, peeking out from behind Dale.
Her wide eyes travelled up at the six-and-half feet frame of alligator
looming over the small -- very small, it seemed, now -- group of friends.
     "Welcome, Foxglove," Sewer Al grinned, an unnerving and
disconcerting gesture for the little bat.
     The tiny animals slightly huddled together in front of the reptile,
Chip finally cleaning his throat and stepping forward.
     "We got your message," he repeated, never sure on the best way to
approach this particular denizen of the deep. He decided to brave it and
prompt the gator. "You have something to tell us?"
     "Yes," Sewer Al maintained his slightly sinister smile, although
nearly all of the alligator's expressions fell close to that countenance.
"Please, make yourselves comfortable inside. It's a bit warmer, and much
drier." He stepped back into the subway car, moving to the back.
     The others glanced at Chip, who shrugged, then followed in behind
their host.
     Once inside, everyone had to admit it was slightly more relaxing.
The light was warm and bright, the climate was dry -- just right for
preserving the seemingly endless amount of written material lining the
walls, bookshelves, and every other available space. Sewer Al, himself,
seemed to have a more engaging side to him in here. Seated at the back
of the cab in a shabby but comfortable recliner, surrounded by the books
he loved, the cold-blooded animal could have passed for nothing more
than a scholar or librarian.
     The Rangers were aware of this illusion, however, and thus did not
relax their guard much at all.
     "Now," Sewer Al began once everyone was comfortably sitting, "I
understand you had some unexpected guests tonight?"
     "How'd you know that?" Kan snapped, her eyes narrowing in
suspicion. Top of the food chain or no, she was not about to let this
reptile off easy if he was working with that infernal raccoon.
     "I have my methods," Sewer Al replied calmly.
     "Such as?" Kan didn't quit easily. A bad habit here.
     "My dear lady," Sewer Al answered slowly, but with an amused
smirk. "Tread lightly on foreign soil, for you know not where the
landmine fields are."
     Kan opened her mouth, but Tham gently covered her hand with his
own. A simple gesture, but a clear one. She stole a glance at him, then
looked back at Sewer Al with a frown, but remained silent.
     "My ancestral katana was stolen," Tham quietly stated, the even
tones of his voice reminding Kan and the Rangers of how harshly Tham
had taken the murder of his parents. "And our friend, Zipper, was
kidnaped. What of it?" Although he wasn't saying anything, Tham knew
the game Sewer Al was playing. He had dealt with Red Paw before, a
similar broker of information back in Japan, and was thus fairly well-
versed in the language of underworld traders.
     "Information flows past me daily," Sewer Al explained, "although
very little gets by without my awareness of it. By various means and
methods of procurement, I learn of events and obtain missing objects,
whether it be the news of an upcoming attack at the Ivy Crest or
something more tangible, such as a fully valid Platinum credit card."
     "Or the Time Blade?" Dale blurted out.
     "Not the actual blade, I'm afraid," the mammoth bookworm
shrugged. "I am aware of who stole it, however, and I surmise that
finding him would be a step in the right direction to retrieving the
missing Ranger and Tham's property."
     "Payment?" Chip give a terse smirk. Sewer Al had them over the
barrel and he knew it.
     But the informant merely waved it aside. "All in due time. And
time, my friends, is not on your side."
     "How so?" Gadget asked.
     "The Time Blade, as far as I can piece together, will be leaving
town tonight, undoubtably to be auctioned off to some private collector. It
is quite a legendary blade in the proper circles, after all," Sewer Al
chuckled. "Once that's taken care of, I doubt they'll see little use from
your friend aside from a possible appetizer during one of their potlucks.
If you wish to save him and retrieve the Time Blade, you will have to
work quickly. All I ask for at this time is your word." Here he suddenly
lost all pretense at congeniality and leaned forward, staring at Chip too
intensely for the chipmunk's tastes. "You word of honor, Chip, as you
are the spokesman for this group, that the Rescue Rangers will honor my
payment, whether or not you actually succeed in your rescue and retrieval
endeavor."
     "But--"
     "I offer information, and that is all. What you make of it is your
own responsibility."
     Chip gritted his teeth. He looked at the other Rangers, who all had
the same expression of knowing resignation. They had no choice. 
     "You have our word," the leader of the Rangers quietly, but clearly,
stated.
     At least we know Sewer Al enough to trust him not to ask us to
knock off the mayor, Chip reflected. Still, it was an uncomfortable
feeling.
     Sewer Al merely nodded, but did not lean back. Instead, he cut
directly to the chase. "The individual's name is Morty. He is a new
crimelord to the docks, but has already somehow acquired a fairly
impressive power base. The funds and favors he plans to get from the
sale of the Time Blade will further his operations, but he is also aware of
how relentless your group can be, and thus is ready to move his
merchandise as soon as possible.
     "He plans to catch a boat leaving for New York at 3:00 A.M."
Sewer Al relaxed back in his chair. "Dock twelve."

                         *     *     *

     If one were to ask Zipper what the worst thing about being a fly
was, he'd state that it was his diminutive nature made everything around
him huge by comparison.
     Ask him what the best thing about being a fly was, and he'd state
that it was his diminutive nature made everything around him huge by
comparison.
     The box they had shut Zipper into was one of dozens, made from
some sort of corrugated cardboard, only a few inches in height, length,
and depth. It was a portable holding tank that Morty's gang threw
malcontents, people who were late with a loanshark debt, or anyone else
they wanted to punish but didn't want to waste their own energy on it.
Even mice as strong as Monterey wouldn't have been able to break
through, because being crammed into the box offered them no leverage to
work against the surprisingly strong walls.
     The typical plan was to leave the victim trapped for about a day or
so -- no food, no water, and no "potty breaks". The dark, confined
quarters worked heavily on the mice usually stuck in the boxes, barely
able to move their fingers, let alone get the blood flowing to their
uncomfortably twisted limbs. After they were finally released, the fear of
going back into such a tortuous device keep most in line.
     Zipper was currently whistling his way through "Turkey in the
Straw", casually strolling around in the darkened box. He keep his walk
to a small circle, so as not to bump into any walls. He was trying to figure
out a solid escape plan, but wasn't have much luck. He wasn't strong
enough to break or tear through the walls. This cardboard seemed to be of
one of the custom types for a certain product; some sort of hardened wax
or similar coating had been applied to the interior of the box in a thin
layer, which only strengthened the wall. The unsureness of what exactly
the coating consisted of also prevented Zipper from attempting to chew
his way out. No telling if that stuff was poisonous.
     Even if it wasn't, though, Zipper still had to wonder about what he
would do once he got out. If this was above ground, it would be a simple
matter to find his way back to the Ranger tree. But they had only gone
deeper underground upon entering the sewers, and Zipper had no clue
which way would lead him back to the surface. If push came to shove,
however, he didn't really doubt that he could escape this box, sneak
away, and eventually find his way up to the ground level once more. He'd
survived worst.
     Since he saw his eventual freedom as a certainly (only the timing
was unclear at the moment) he didn't bother worrying about it, and was
actually enjoying the coolness with which he had been handling the whole
situation.
     Morty would want him alive for a bit longer, he figured, as
insurance against the Rangers. As long as Zipper was around to be
threatened, the Rangers would be forced to keep their distance. It was a
stopgap measure, but Zipper could tell from his time watching the cronies
of Morty, before he was rudely stuffed in here, that they weren't wasting
time to unload the Time Blade. Snippets of conversation he overheard
bolstered by body language and the occasional loud mouth had confirmed
that they already had a buyer lined up, even before they had stolen the
katana.
     And that was the reason he had decided to not fret over escape; this
was a surprisingly good chance to dig up some information. Not only on
the theft of the Time Blade such as the buyers and selling location, but
also on Morty's gang in general. Most of the thugs seemed to be par for
the course: muscle first and brainpower when the budget allowed. A few,
while not intelligent in the manner of Chip or Gadget, were cunning and
crafty enough to land positions as makeshift sergeants, leading the shock
troops with a good idea of what they were doing, where they were going,
and who they would be hurting.
     The ones Zipper was thinking over, besides Morty himself, were
those who had enough intellect to organize this large crowd of apparently
haphazardly gathered crooks. Harvey was the only whom he had
managed to catch the name of, but he knew of at least three more in the
ranks. An iguana, mouse, and a guinea pig all also seemed to be
lieutenants of some type, in that Morty actually talked to them rather than
just demean them with pointed comments (even though, in Zipper's
humble estimation, Morty's observations of ineptness were justified).
     From the hustle and bustle he could hear around him, the group was
packing up its equipment for their next destination. Zipper would
undoubtably be coming along, although he was debating the merits of
going peacefully or just escaping now and tailing them. His quandary was
easily solved when the box he was in was abruptly hefted and thrown into
a pile of other boxes on an awaiting cart.
     After bouncing around within a bit, Zipper's senses congealed back
to the point where he was orientated enough to make out what Morty was
announcing through the other side of the cardboard wall.
     "Let's move, boys. We have people who will be awaiting us at the
docks."
     The box lurched slightly as some of the members pulled the cart
along, while Zipper sat inside, disappointed. He had hoped Morty would
have taken the required time to taunt his prisoner with the details of the
crime about to be committed while the hero is helpless.
     Criminals these days, Zipper snorted. No sense of tradition.

                         *     *     *

     Dale suddenly stopped as he realized, quite out of the blue, just how
long they had been up. They had gotten up early this morning (was it just
this morning? It felt much longer ago for some reason...), got ready fro
the dry-run, went through rehearsal, were involved in a rather tiring fight
-- he didn't count being knocked out in the same league as taking a nap --
gone to Sewer Al's, stopped by headquarters to grab a few supplies, had
just disembarked from the Ranger Wing (left parked in an alley just down
the street), and now were heading to the docks. Yet, none of them felt
tired, despite the non-stop pace of the day. They had apparently not only
gotten their second wind, but received an advance from their third and
fourth winds, as well.
     Like all studious college students, they learned that when pressed
for time, sleep really wasn't necessary so much as an elusive "carrot"
held in front of the rabbits running on a treadmill.
     He glanced over at the small group, noticing that despite everyone's
steadfast resolve to see this thing through to the proper conclusion, worry
was clearly evident.
     The Ranger's foremost concern was Zipper. Morty seemed to be
the type of a guy to milk a hostage for all it was worth, which meant that
their trusted companion was more than likely still alive. It wasn't a
certainty, but they took faith in what comfort they could. Kan was also
worried about Zipper, but not nearly as much as she was about Tham.
     Her stoic husband-to-be was devoid of showing any emotion, his
face set in grim and unyielding determination. He had been taught by his
father in the ways of war, and Kan knew that  Tham felt any display of
emotion right now would be a show of weakness. Weakness that a crafty
enemy can exploit.
     She sighed deeply as she walked alongside him. Scant centimeters
from each other, but still worlds apart.
     "There," Chip announced as he pointed to the docks. Ships could be
seen up and down the coast, but the activity was minimal at this early
hour. Things wouldn't really start moving until later in the morning.
     "Dock twelve?" Tham asked for clarification.
     "Up a little ways," Chip replied as he led the way.
     Monterey looked at the docks and frowned. As the others headed
off, Gadget stopped by him and lightly touched his shoulder. "Monty?"
she asked.
     "Hmm?" Monterey started and looked at her. "Oh, sorry luv. Just
thinkin', is all."
     "About what?" She asked as the two walked after the rest of the
group.
     Monterey was quiet for a moment, trying to put his thoughts into
the appropriate words. "Somethin' ain't addin' up, I guess."
     Gadget smiled. "Golly, Monty, you sound like Chip now."
     He chuckled at that. "Well, the bloke rubs off on ya after a bit, I
guess."
     "Too right," Golly replied in a friendly attempt at an Australian
accent.
     Monterey was tempted to make a follow-up comment to Gadget's
wide smile concerning the chipmunk in question, but decided to stick to
the business at hand. "What I mean, Gadget-luv, is that I've been hittin'
these type o' ports for most of me life. Catchin' ships is second-hand to
me now."
     "So you think that there's something happening we aren't aware
of?" Gadget glanced up at him. While he might not be as big on
deduction as Chip or Zipper, Monterey was unsurpassed in travel
knowledge. "Something about the boats?"
     Monterey nodded. "Yeah. See, for a boat to get from here to New
York, it'll have to travel down the coastline to the Panama Canal, then
back up around the States all the way to the top. Not many liners are
gonna do that unless it's got a lot of stops on its way. That takes a lot of
time, and this blighter Morty seems to be smart enough that he should
figure we'd track the Time Blade down soon enough if it was on one boat
for all that time."
     "You know, it does seem odd." Gadget tapped a finger thoughtfully
to her cheek. "I wonder why Morty isn't moving it to New York by land,
or air even? Certainly would be quicker, and there's tons of possibilities
as to what could be carrying it."
     "Too right, luv. Only thing I can think of is that it's easy to slip
things onboard a ship without having it discovered for the whole trip.
Morty might not even be goin' all the way to New York, even if the ship
is."
     "We should mention it to the others," Gadget suggested.
     Monterey nodded. Now that he had actually voiced it, he realized
that this unknown element might have some major effect on how they
could snatch the famed katana back. Quickly, the two mice caught up
with the rest of the group to bring this to their attention.

     From a warehouse about fifty yards away, the vole Dale had met in
the Ivy Crest stepped back from the human-sized nightvision scope with
magnification set up on the top of the roof.
     "Well, Carolyn?"
     Carolyn glanced down at Hedgerow. The large raven adjusted his
tattered woolen vest and old bowler as he walked over to the ledge of the
roof she was standing on.
     "They're on their way, naturally." She smiled and shrugged. "Not
surprising in the least, given how much that katana means to Tham."
     Hedgerow yawned. "Whatever."
     "In any case, we'll need to move over to a warehouse on the
waterfront in order to watch the proceedings unfold. I'll watch the area in
front of the ship, while you poke your beak around inside and see if you
can find out who's waiting in there."
     Hedgerow nodded. Carolyn made most of the decisions, but she
wasn't the boss. The two had worked in tandem for years, but Hedgerow
preferred to handle the physical work rather than the mental. He was
smart enough to do so, just never had the ambition. Carolyn's ambition,
however, more than made up for it.
     "Any ideas who might be in there?" He asked as he hopped up to
the ledge and hoisted the binoculars up on his back, using a small bit of
twine to hold it securely in place.
     "Not offhand," she answered, a bit disappointed. Information
brokers hated to admit when they didn't know something, but being her
partner, there wasn't any reason to falsify it. "But whoever it is would
need to have some strong resources to acquire the Time Blade. That
ship's last major port was Japan, so it could be the Yakuza for all we
know. Of course, they've had brief stops along the way, as well, so I
wouldn't place any bets just yet."
     She deftly leapt onto Hedgerow's back, settling herself down safely.
"In any case, it's not our main task here. We just monitor the happenings
of this waterfront; but extra bits of info like who the real players were
here might mean a nice bonus from Sewer Al."
     The raven chuckled at his partner's business sense. "Whatever,
Carolyn. I just work here."
     He leapt from the roof and glided out over the darkened dockside,
far above the Rangers and the looming cargo ship.

                           Part Three
                   Nuptial Vows -- Last Rites

     The humid, muggy air clung to Norbert's fur like moist velvet. It
did not help 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 honor was a very
twisted and convoluted version. 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 was into cruelty as the buyers have 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 who Norbert could have
a true multi-syllable conversation with.
     "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 he 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 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 sparse 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 didn'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 was 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 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 over there, then, and find out!" Monterey eagerly piped
up. "My pally's trapped by the blighter's, Tham's sword is still their
grubby paws, and I owe a number of 'em 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 backside us 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
check once more tonight.
     "I would suggest," Tham said, "that we utilize Foxglove's flight 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
difference 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 her steely her nerves might have
been.
     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 better 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 they might have been, 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 to 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 Blase 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 near 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
heavier weights should on the bottom, rather than piled up on a virtually
empty box which would eventually start to collapse in 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 stuck 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 anymore 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 between 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 magnificant 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 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 bode well on the 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 congeal 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 are, so are 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 read that
comic with Dr. Doomsday and the Headpin....
     Zipper wished he had a recorder for prosperity.
     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 of 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 been telling the actual 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, noiticing 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 breif 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
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 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,
slowly 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 others, undoubtably 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 henchman. 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 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 had 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 realized suddenly that they hadn't said a
single word to each other.
     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 viewing area, but decided against it. He could probably see
everything best 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 scope. 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 it 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 over 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 undoubtably mostly 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 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 evade. She had no clue how much time had passed. A minute? A
second? Somewhere, she had heard two crates crash together, and feel a
shudder run through her almost instinctively. Somehow, she knew Zipper
didn't escape.
     It was only a matter of time before she was next.
     Thus, it was not a big surprise when she was finally caught by
surprise and thrown prone to the top of the safe, her katana stole 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 in to 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 problems 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
offguard. A paper cut is small, but can be very inconveniencing 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 much, as in
the cluster of cats they were bound to hit one. 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 ethier 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 thing was to get
Zipper. He didn't doubt for a moment that his oldest buddy had survived
somehow. Zipper was 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. "Back-up 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 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 easier. The
Aussie's own muscles were tired, but could easily handle hefting the
katana around. "Ya got the Time Blade!"
     And a headache, Zipper added with a weak smile.
     "HALT-ALT!"
     The cats fighting 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
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 hostesses, we did not."
     And closed it promptly as he stared at Tham. The pound warrior
strode up to the Twins; too close, as far as Monterey was concerned.
Tham was in the 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 as deep as Tham's 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 saw
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.
     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 in with interest. Tham was behaving every bit as a
nobleman should, but she would have guessed that he wanted nothing
more than to leap over and throttle the Siamese Twins, Morty, and the
rest of the crowd that dared to steal his heritage. Tham's apparent
willingness to try alternative tracks besides the outright suicidal was a
glimmer of hope that they may 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 the disputed artifact over.
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 not a particualry 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 which
served as the Twins audience chamber. His head was tilted back, 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 formed a symbol that the
Rangers didn't recognize, but could guess it 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 respective 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 seemed to set the stage for what was about
to happen already. They were, after all, the people with the major
interests over 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 their 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 kinds of things that might be
running through the mind of her friend. As a Rescue Ranger, Gadget had
already undergone numerous occasions with 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, forced out 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 women know a friend was close by.
     "I... I just don't believe it, really." Kan took a deep breath,
managing to recollect a bit of herself. "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 interposing 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 at 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
may 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 may 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 at being 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 birthrights -- 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 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 which stood opposite
of 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 lengthsome 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 Saber 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 they
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' 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 Twin's 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 sheathes 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 the skill of the other.
     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 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 to his foe's prowess. The initial light thrusts and swipes
showed Bajin was at least proficient with the blade, but that's all. If Bajin
was on par with Tham's own skill, than the groom may 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 for using a vast area as he did 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 swift 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 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 in 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 spotted it as a maneuvering tactic, allowing Tham to distance
himself from the borders. 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 his breath as soon as he 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 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 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 changed the mood which was generated almost
entirely. 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 its 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. He 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 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 maintain 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 of 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, 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 back three
inches.
     Panting heavily, Tham retreated 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 blow,
and steadily took his place opposite of 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 on the disadvantage side. 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 is 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 upperhand for that moment in
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 crumbled 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
anymore besides his own grueling determination to at least see his
ancestral katana free from the Twin's 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 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, Monterey
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'tdieohpleasepleasepleasenonononon...." 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 add 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 form, 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 sub-culture, 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 Twin's 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 yours, 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 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 have 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 holfd, he couldn't have just 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 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 no interest in ever 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 scope 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 scope 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
hospital's, but they had enough supplies to stabilize ya and get yer system
back in runnin' order."
     "We had a lift from this 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, 'The 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, such 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 know."
     "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 outright kill him?" 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 to them, rather than being dead."
     "Death is the greatest service one can give to their 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 just could have died right there, Tham. I knew that I really did
want to make this commitment, and that suddenly 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
it 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 when they had a child already -- 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
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 with. 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 forgo tradition to get divorced in the first place, why would
they not be willing to forgo 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 gobetween is 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 corner 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
annunciation 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 they were now entering with each other. The stand was taken
away as Dale stepped forward and handed Tham Kan's ring. Originally,
Dale was toying with using his old secret decoder ring as a joke, but
everyone else -- even Foxglove -- 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 with 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 gobetween. Read those words like they were poetry on a page," she
cooed.
     "Awww, I just did the reading," Dale blushed slightly as he
adjusted his dayglo 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 preforming the actual marriage ceremony, honey," she
explained. "They 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 did lose 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 asile 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 CDS he planned to use were neatly stored in a CD
organizer, allowing him to handle his DJ responsibilities solo with the
rest of the band ate and logged in 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 a definite.

              But they fought with expert timing!

     And in the far corner of the hall, Foxglove had managed the
wrangle 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 basis,
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 adversion 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 heros 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.
Where 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 heros, 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 amassing 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 amount of failures at permanently
disposing 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 Henforth. Meps, Wart, and Mole didn't 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 may 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 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.