Tail Winds Episode #1 of Tale Spin: High Flight written by Constance "Eilonwy" Cochran with contributions from the High Flight crew Send comments to eilonwy@earthlink.net Illustrations by Lar DeSouza, available at http://www.geocities.com/~highflight/series/tshf.html Tale Spin and its characters are the property of Buena Vista Television/Disney, and is borrowed with the utmost affection and respect. Any new characters are the property of the fan fiction series "Tale Spin: High Flight" and the author and may not be used without permission. This story originally released on the DAFT Hatchlings mailing list in a slightly different form. ---------------------------------------------------------------- PART IV He has made his choices, both right and wrong All from this single source Vagabond and corsair he has been before Each he might be again.... His long journey is just started Final port is not in sight But he continues his journey without ever a doubt That his dream will one day be reality. --from "To Dare To Dream" copyright 1992 by Steve Martindale used with the author's permission ____________________________________________ Winger slouched in the co-pilot's seat, scowling. The old red squirrel had gone inside without him, insisting he stay behind this time in a tone that would not be disobeyed. Starfinder had actually threatened to tie him to his seat if he tried to follow. The lion cub sighed. Adults. The brief rain storm had cleared in time for a brilliant sunset. Clouds raced across the darkening sky, where a star gleamed at the horizon. The lights were all out in the cockpit, and Winger sat in the dimness, listening to the distant sounds of music and laughter. He bet that The Pirate's Claw was something to see, a place of adventure. So of course he was stuck out here. Footsteps came along the dock. Winger put his head out the window and saw Starfinder returning. Alone. "No luck," he said heavily, climbing into the plane. "The cook said a kid matching Kit's description was here three, four days ago, worked in the kitchen and then ran off. No one else has seen him....although I have my suspicions about the bartender," Starfinder added grimly. "So what do we do now?" Winger asked, as Starfinder flicked on the cockpit lights and hit the starter button. The ancient plane roared into life and began to pull away from the dock. "We go back to Higher For Higher," the squirrel said. "Maybe Baloo or Ms. Cunningham found something." --------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Seven. Only seven." The engines of The Cormorant roared dimly in the background. Kit could feel the gentle vibration of flight beneath his feet. In the small cabin that served as his personal quarters, Grayclaw paced, seeming too large for the room. "I am sorry, mon ami," said Oni, seated cross-legged on the desk. "It was all we could find within a day." "I was hoping for ten." The wolf sighed, then paused for a moment to stare out at the sunset sky sliding past the window. "But they are wanderers at heart, I know. We're lucky to have the seven -- especially Hooks and Nosedive." He turned his attention back to the four in the cabin with him. Oni, Wingnut, Slammer, along with Kit, seemed to have become his unofficial cabinet. "Now, kid," Grayclaw fixed his sharp gaze on Kit, and sat down at the narrow table that served as a desk. "Tell us about The Iron Vulture." --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Beyond the portholes, the sky was darkening, burning a fiery red on the horizon. The Iron Vulture had landed somewhere near a bare, rocky island. "That's it," Baloo said, his voice muffled because his head was buried in his paws. "We're gonna rot in here until I'm ready for social security. And no one's going to be able to help Kit...." "There's Starfinder," Becky said hopefully, turning away from the bars of the cell. "Yeah," Baloo said miserably. Then he raised his head. "Yeah, you're right! Hey, maybe he found Kit at The Pirate's Claw. Maybe they're already back at Higher For Hire, wondering where we are." Becky closed her paws around the bars. "I hope someone figures it out soon," she said hollowly. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- The brown plane winged its way north, back to Cape Suzette. Starfinder peered out of the front windshield of the cockpit, studying the stars. "Where are you, Ursus? Ah, there." He eased the stick over, and the plane turned, correcting their course. Winger watched him thoughtfully. "Don't you want the map?" He asked. The squirrel gave his baritone chuckle. "I don't need maps, kid. Just my eyes and a clear night." "How come you aren't a navigator any more?" "I'm old, son. It was time to settle down." "You don't act old," Winger said. "You're only as old as you --- what the!" Starfinder gave a start. "There's something out there." Winger knelt on his seat, peering out the windshield. "Where?" "Starboard, eleven o'clock." The lion cub peered through the glass. And then he saw it. It must have been close to a hundred feet long, its hull some dark color against the night. Lights blinked on its wings and from within. Against the darkness, Winger could just make out four big engines, their powerful hum already audible. A large cloud drifted aside, and in the resulting starlight, the plane was more visible. It was a deep, nautical blue, with red around the nose and engines. There was a gun turret jutting from the roof of its hull. It raced with the clouds, powerful. "I know that plane," Starfinder said, his voice tight. "That's The Cormorant." "The Cormorant?" "Grayclaw's flying ship. Winger, I have a feeling if we follow that, we may find Kit." "Rrrright." Winger swallowed, eyeing the gun turret and the additional weapons mounted under the wings. "Uh....just don't get too close, okay?" --------------------------------------------------------------------------- In the lead, Kit wriggled out of the tunnel and dropped to the floor. He found himself in the corridor siding one wall of the Vulture's main hangar, just as he had expected. Behind him, one by one, Grayclaw and his pirates emerged. They had found the Vulture landed on the water. The small hatch just under the left pontoon, all but forgotten by Karnage and his crew, had been there, just as Kit had said it would be. Kit had gone first into the crawlspace, which had originally been designed as an emergency escape route. When everything seemed clear, he called back to the others, who followed him one by one. Grayclaw joined him first and took a look around at the empty, silent corridor. Then he grinned, revealing his sharp teeth. "Kid, I've got to hand it to you." "The hangar's just through that door," Kit said, pointing. "That's where Karnage's gang keeps their planes." "And where's Karnage?" Grayclaw asked. "Usually he's on the bridge, or in his private quarters. I'll lead you there," Kit nodded. "We need to reach the door opposite this one." The rest of the small band emerged. Oni stepped softly over to the metal door and opened it a crack, putting one paw on the hilt of her dagger. "Dere are two standing guard," she whispered. "And anoder one ees cleaning one of de planes." "Just three? Are you sure?" Grayclaw came to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder. Kit knelt so he could peer around their legs, Oni's slender snow-furred, Grayclaw's thick, silver-furred ones. "But there's an alarm on the wall, there. We have to make sure they don't hit it." "No problem," Slammer growled, hitting his fist into the pad of his other paw. "On my signal," said Grayclaw, "Slammer, you, Nobble, and The Twins slip out and take them. Kit and I will lead the rest of you across the hanger, to the bridge." "Aye, aye," Slammer saluted crisply. Then, with a movement so fluid it was difficult to see him go, Slammer slid through the crack in the door, followed by Nobble, a lean, hungry looking dog who had bragged he could pick any lock ever invented. The twins, two identical coyotes except that one wore a red bandana, the other a blue, slipped out after them, their movements synchronized. Watching through the cracked doorway, Kit witnessed one of the most impressive displays of rehearsed teamwork he had ever seen. First, The Twins each removed their bandanas so it was impossible to tell them apart. Then, while the others crouched behind a plane, one of The Twins stepped boldly out into the open. The scruffy-looking pirates on duty stared. The Twin waved cheerfully, then stuck out his tongue. The guards frowned, and stepped towards The Twin, who ducked behind another plane. A whistle sounded behind the guards. They turned, as the other Twin stepped out from the first plane, and waved. Blinking, one of the guards shook his head while the other frowned. Then the second Twin vanished, and his brother stepped into the open again, in yet another position. While the two guards made quizzical remarks to each other and kept busy trying to sort out the vanishing and reappearing stranger, Slammer and Nobble slowly crept up behind them, then felled the two big pirates with quick blows from behind. As Kit, Grayclaw, and the others stepped out into the hangar, Grayclaw let out a bellow of warning. "The other one -- quickly!" They had forgotten about the bloke cleaning the plane, a little, scruffy dog with an eyepatch and tattered coat. The small creature raced for the alarm, a large red button on the wall next to the bombay door release. Slammer dove for the dog, a second too late. The dog hopped up so he could reach the button, and punched it. Immediately a klaxon began to sound and a strobing red light raked the air. Pirates of all shapes and sizes began appearing in doorways and running along the catwalks of the hangar. "C'mon, kid, you're with me. Show me the bridge," Grayclaw muttered, dragging Kit across the hangar. "Hooks, Nobble, Hardtack, Widget, Twins, you'd better stay here for the fray. Oni, Slammer, Wingnut, Slipstream, Kit, to me!" As they ran across the hangar, a lumbering pirate tried to grab Oni. Silently, she let loose a flying barrel kick with her slim, white-furred legs that knocked the pirate silly, then ran on. Kit dodged another pirate, ducking under his grasp as Slammer took him out. Kit stopped. He hadn't noticed it before; it had been tucked at the far end of the hangar, near the beak of the Vulture. A sturdily built, classically lined yellow plane with orange pontoons: The Sea Duck. "Oh no." Kit stopped, feeling as if he were choking. "Baloo!" He turned, and began running for the plane, but a paw on his collar jerked him back. Kit decided he was sick and tired of being grabbed by the neck of his sweater. He swung his fists, trying to contact with the pirate that had grabbed him.... And came face to face with Grayclaw. "Kid, it's me. What in the skies are you doing?" The wolf set Kit down, but didn't let go. Around them, the battle was on. Kit had to yell to be heard. "That's Baloo's plane! He's been captured by Don Karnage. I have to save him..." Kit tried to squirm out of Grayclaw's grasp, but the wolf wouldn't relinquish his grip. "Wait a second, Kit. We had a bargain." "But I have to--" "If you run out on me now, I might start believing you're one of Karnage's lackeys again." Grayclaw's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Please, you've got to believe me, I'm _not_ one of Karnage's spies. But Baloo's my best friend....if he's in one of Karnage's brigs, I have to get him out!" "Fine. After you show me to the bridge." "I'll tell you how to get there," Kit said desperately. "Arrrrgggg," Grayclaw growled. "I don't have time for this." He began dragging Kit after the rest of his small band, who were fighting their way tooth and claw towards the door Kit had pointed towards earlier. "Slipstream!" He bellowed, and the burly, clever-faced wolf hound glanced up, felled the pirate he had been struggling with, and bounded over. "Kid, tell Slipstream how to find the brig." "Go out the door to the left, follow the red pipe down the corridor, turn left, open the small door, and down the metal steps," Kit said in one breath. "Go," ordered Grayclaw. "There's a pilot being held prisoner down there...his name's Baloo," he said, with a glance at Kit. "Get him free. That's all you have to do for him," Grayclaw added. Slipstream nodded and was off with a speed that belied his heavy frame. "Him, I can let out of my sight. You...." Grayclaw closed his good paw around Kit's arm in a vise-like grip. "You're never going to trust me, are you?" Kit said, as Grayclaw shoved him through the door. "Kid, I made the mistake of trusting too easily once before. Never again." "You trust Oni, don't you? And the others?" They reached the corridor. Wingnut slammed the door on two advancing Karnage pirates. Howls of pain came from the other side of the door. "That's different." "Look, I promise I won't double cross you. Just let me--" "Kid," Grayclaw said, as they reached an intersection in the corridors. "SHUT UP!" Kit complied. "Now, which way?" Grayclaw asked politely. Frowning, Kit deliberately stared at the metal walls, ignoring him. "WHICH WAY!?!" Grayclaw growled. "You don't trust me, why should I tell you anything?" "Oh, of all the mumbling grumble muttering mutterers," Grayclaw said, putting his injured paw to his forehead. "You know, I like you kid, really. I don't want to have to kill you with my bare hands," he said through clenched teeth. "A momente, mon ami," said Oni, intervening. Gently, she pried Grayclaw's grasp from Kit's arm. "Keet," she said, "I understand 'ow you are feeling. But leesten to me, Oni. If Grayclaw is defeating ze trecherous fox, den 'e will be 'aving control of de Iron Vulture. And your friend,'e will be safe, yes?" "And if Grayclaw loses?" A silence fell over the small group of pirates. "I won't lose," Grayclaw said, in a low voice. In a slow, deliberate motion, he drew his dagger. Kit looked straight up into the pirate's face. "Is that a promise?" Grayclaw opened his mouth to speak, and then a startled look came over his face. He considered Kit for a moment, then reached out and rested his good paw on Kit's shoulder. "Yeah, kid. That's a promise." After a moment, Kit said, gesturing with a nod, "Up the right corridor. The bridge is the second door on the left." Slammer, Oni, and the others started down the corridor, drawing their cutlasses and pistols. Grayclaw paused before joining them. "Go rescue your friend, Kit," he said, and before Kit could reply, he darted down the corridor after the others. As Kit hurried in the opposite direction, he felt the floor shudder beneath him, then a distant roar that grew in instensity until the whole ship seemed to thrum. The Iron Vulture was taking flight. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Okay, kiddo," said Starfinder, turning the plane towards the big hovercraft that was starting to rise into the air. "This might get dicey." They had seen the large blue and red plane land beside the flying fortress, but in the darkness couldn't make out what its crew was doing. Starfinder had circled a few times while they decided what action to take. And then The Iron Vulture had taken flight. "What are you doing?" The lion cub asked sharply, his paws gripping the arm rests of his chair as he watched the hovercraft draw nearer. "We'll have to land on that flying fortress," the old red squirrel said. "There's no other way to get in." On top of the hovercraft was a long landing strip, lined on either side by the vertical propellers that powered the fortress. It appeared to be deserted, but the sound of the plane was sure to attract pirates. Apprehensively, Winger watched Starfinder bring the rattle-trap rental plane in for a landing. The wheels lowered with a reluctant, creaking whirr, followed by the skidding sound of rubber hitting tarmac, and a huge jolt. The plane taxied to a stop, and Starfinder wiped his brow with the back of one paw. "I've never had to land on top of a _moving_ object before," he said weakly. "Not even in '26, when I ran supplies in the middle of the Pimento Revolution." Cautiously, they climbed out of the plane. A stiff wind tugged at Winger's half-grown mane and Starfinder's silver-red fur. The landing strip was deserted, dark except for the rows of landing lights. "How do we get in?" Winger asked, looking around with his paws shoved in his jacket pockets. The old red squirrel moved over to a hole in the runway, the tail of his pea coat flapping in the wind. Light emanated up through the hole, and a metal ladder ran down it. "I guess we climb," he said, placing his feet on the rungs and vanishing into the illuminated hole in the landing strip. Winger hesitated, standing over the opening, the wind tugging at his mane. "Climb?" Then he followed the squirrel, more slowly. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Baloo sat on the bunk of the cell, half snoozing, his back against the outside wall of the hull. Becky paced, occasionally stopping to grab the bars of the cell door, as if she might find they had miraculously softened in the interval. When she felt the ship vibrate and heard the engines roar distantly into life, Becky turned. "Baloo!" Baloo snorted, and jerked awake. "Pirates!" He yelled. "Four o-clock...." Baloo seemed to realize where he was and trailed off. "Baloo, the ship's taking off!" Without shifting from his comfortable-looking position, Baloo shrugged. "Great. Now, even if we can get out of this cell, we can plunge hundreds of feet into the ocean rather than just jumping into the ocean. Becky, next time wake me only for the _important_ news bulletins." Suddenly the guard standing outside the cell let out an *oof* and slumped to the floor. With a start, Baloo sat up as Becky slowly backed away from the door, eyes startled. A large, burly, shadowed figure stood over the guard, a piece of metal pipe in its paws. "Who -- who are you?" Becky asked shakily. Baloo rose and came to her side, then pushed her behind him protectively. The figure stepped forward into the light, revealing a very tall, very shaggy Irish Wolfhound with fur the color of tarnished sterling. He had a torn ear, a mean-looking cutlass at his belt that gleamed in the light, and fangs that protruded on either side of his unsmiling, lugubrious snout. His fist practically engulfed the piece of pipe. Without answering, the wolfhound plucked the key ring off of its hook and unlocked the cell door with a rusty jangling noise. The door stood open, but neither Balooo nor Becky moved. The wolfhound looked at them tiredly, as if they were extremely stupid students and he the professor who had to explain everything three times. "Kit sent me," he said. With the flicker of his bushy dog tail, he turned and melted away into the shadows. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- The interior of The Iron Vulture was a confusing maze of metal tunnels, crawl-spaces, ladders, and catwalks. The lion cub and the weathered squirrel felt as if they had been wandering around for hours. In another part of the ship, they heard the faint sounds of fighting. But it was impossible to pinpoint the source; the sound seemed to come down a ventilation shaft leading to an unknown location. "Hmmm...." said Starfinder. He cocked his head to one side, listening, then reached up a paw, tracing it along the line of a pipe that ran along the large, high-ceilinged corridor. "Now, if I know anything about air craft design, and I do, there should be a large, central bay for a hovercraft like this. I noticed grooves in that landing strip; Karnage must lower the planes into some sort of main hangar." "Okay, but which way do we go?" Starfinder leaned his head back. There was a catwalk fifteen feet above them, accessing several doors. "Same wall as the direction that vent leads," he said, pointing. "If we keep heading that way, we should find the source of all the excitement." The squirrel reached up and pulled down a metal ladder. Agilely, he scrambled up to the catwalk. Winger put his paws on the rungs, looking up doubtfully. That catwalk seemed awfully rickety...and high up. Setting his jaw, he climbed up after Starfinder, his paws gripping each new rung tightly. "Let's try that one." Starfinder pushed at the handle of one of the doors, letting out a flood of light. On the other side of the door were two burly, rather stupid looking pirates. "Sorry, wrong room," Starfinder said, and slammed the door shut. "No time to dawdle around kid, let's go," he said, pushing Winger ahead of him along the catwalk. Behind them they heard a loud, metallic bang. The door opened, and the pirates emerged. At the next door, Winger tried the handle, but it wouldn't budge. "Hey," one of the pirates shouted unoriginally. "Come back here!" "Starfinder," Winger pointed out as they ran, "We're....uh....running out of catwalk." The red squirrel stopped. "Then we'll have to try a different approach." He turned, regarding the two pirates who made their way inexorably towards the intruders. "Well, they're a lot bigger than we are, but I'm willing to bet they're a lot stupider, too," Starfinder muttered. "Stop!" he cried suddenly, holding out his paw in a dramatic gesture at the two burly pirates. The pirates halted. One of them shook his head quizzically. "You're going about this all wrong," Starfinder said seriously. He leaned to the left, and put his paw to his chin in a thoughtful manner. "You know, you're right!" Winger said, with a look of startled realization on his face. The pirates blinked and looked at each other. One of them shrugged. "Um...what?" He asked. "The way you're chasing us. It's just not _right._ You don't have to stomp around and yell like that," said Winger. "Of course not," Starfinder joined in, smiling broadly. "There are other ways to stomp around and yell. Allow me to introduce myself," he added, sticking out a paw. "The name's Hugh R. Sodum. I am the author of a modest little volume called Pirating With Style. Gentlemen, you are pirates. However, your form is _sadly_ lacking." He shook his head, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "But we --" one of them said. "My young apprentice will demonstrate," Starfinder interrupted, "The proper method for stomping about after intruders. Lad?" Winger bowed, then pounded along the cat walk with slow, deliberate steps, letting his hind paws fall as hard as he could manage without hurting himself. The catwalk shook. "Now you try," he said eagerly, turning back. The pirates hemmed and hawed bashfully. Finally, one of them shoved the other forwards. Blushing like someone whose buddies have just dragged him on stage, he began to thump along the cat walk, which vibrated violently. "That's it!" Starfinder cried. "Now you try," he said to the other one. "Oh, okay," the pirate said, and followed his companion. With two overweight pirates thumping with all their might along the catwalk, the metal struts began to complain. Winger glanced nervously at the wall, and saw the bolt plate slowly working loose. Starfinder closed his paw around the handle of the door. "Hang on," he whispered to Winger. "What?!" "I said....." The rending, shrieking sound of metal groaning in protest filled the air. As the cat walk began to fall away from the wall, Starfinder reached out with his other paw and grabbed Winger's arm with the other. "Hang on!" The catwalk came crashing down, along with the two pirates. Winger and Starfinder dangled into space, one of Starfinder's paws gripping the door handle, the other gripping Winger. The lion cub shut his eyes. Starfinder moved his wrist, and the door clicked, opening. "Hey, kid," he said. "Kid!" Winger opened his eyes, his face pale. "I'm going to need your help here, son," said the squirrel. "I'm gonna haul you up, and you're going through that door, got it?" Dangling, Winger shook his head. "I....I can't. I'll fall." "Winger, I'm not going to let you fall. Now, on the count of three. One....two....three!" With the muscles of his sinewy arm straining, Starfinder pulled Winger up and heaved him at the door. The lion cub fell through and landed, gasping, on the cat walk on the other side. He could see straight down through the grating, and felt dizzy. The catwalk was high up on the wall of some vast room, maybe as much as fifty feet up. "Kid....uh, kid, can you give me a hand here?" Winger remembered Starfinder. He shook his head to clear it, and reached out with both paws, pulling the squirrel through the door. For a moment they sat there, exhausted. "See?" Said Starfinder. "I told you I wouldn't let you fall." Dimly, they became aware of the noise coming from below. Pirates were fighting pirates around several disabled, single-engine propeller planes. "Guess we found it," Winger said. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Baloo and Becky followed the silent wolfhound rapidly along a corridor. Although the pirate had said nothing else, his urgency was evident. Sometimes he stopped, looked impatiently back at them, then hurried on. "Baloo," Becky whispered. "Where do you suppose he's taking us?" Baloo pushed his pilot's hat forward in a determined fashion. "I dunno. But he says he knows Kit. That's good enough for me." They rounded a corner. The sounds of a battle became audible through the Vulture's metal walls. The wolfhound cast one last glance back at them, and pointed a huge paw at a door farther down the corridor. "In there," he said, drawing his dagger. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- When he reached the corridor leading to the brig, Kit felt two large paws grab his shoulders and lift him off the floor. With a sinking sensation that had nothing to do with the uplift of the hovercraft as it gained altitude, Kit turned his head. Dumptruck was holding him, while Maddog stood just behind him, grinning like an idiot. "Oh, look what _we_ caught. The cap'n'll be so pleased!" Kit grunted and squirmed in Dumptruck's grasp. "Put me down!!" "Sorrrrry," Dumptruck said gleefully, in his thick Swedish accent. "Yer comin' along with us." "Hurry up, Dumptruck," Maddog said. "This one always manages to get away from us somehow." "Huh, maybe it's because you're real stupid," Kit said. Dumptruck giggled as he threw Kit over his shoulder like a sack of turnips and started along the corridor after his crewmate. "Ay, ve're not stoopid. We caught you. Ahhh, Madock, where be the captain?" "He's in the hangar, where all the fighting is, silly," Maddog answered, kicking open a door. Kit closed his eyes. So Grayclaw would not find Karnage on the bridge after all. And unless he got back to the hangar with his group real fast, he was going to lose. He heard the sounds of fighting growing louder. Kit opened his eyes as as Dumptruck carried him into the hangar. The Twins, Hooks, Widget, Nobble, and Hardtack had managed to take out a little less than half of the pirates in the hangar, which increased their odds slightly; now they were outnumbered fifteen to six instead of twenty-four to six. In the middle of the fray, bellowing out orders and waving his cutlass with a flourish, was Don Karnage. He leapt onto the wing of a plane to command further attention, his tail streaming out behind him. Grayclaw's five pirates had also managed to dismantle the engines of the planes; the noses stood slightly ajar from the plane bodies, wires dangling. Karnage spotted his two pirates and their bundle. "Ahhhh, Dumptruck, Maddog, I see that you 'ave caught the hook in your web. Good work, my pirates." Maddog dropped Kit at Karnage's feet. The pirate sneered down at Kit from atop the wing of the small plane. "Well, mister wise pants, I am thinking that eet is no surprise to me that you are behind this brew-ho-ho. This is getting quite tiresome to me, the great and feared pirate." The fox jumped down from the wing and hauled Kit to his feet. The Twins, spotting Kit, moved towards Karnage with cutlasses and pistols out, but Karnage pointed the tip of his sword at Kit's chest. "Ah-ah-ah, looking-the-same-pirates-who-are-strangely-familiar-to-me. Move another step, and ze boy is tied up in ribbons, yessno?" The Twins halted, their feral eyes narrowing over their pointed snouts. "And now I, the terrifying pirate, Don Karnage, will ask you, the small and puny bear, what this ees all about?" "What what's all about?" Kit asked, glaring up at the pirate and trying to ignore the sword point. Karnage let out a high-pitched giggle. "Ah, you are playing dumb, but you will soon sing like the canary stool pigeon. Maddog!" Karnage ordered. "Bring me the oven mitt and the duct tape!" Maddog trotted off obediently, pursued by one of The Twins. Widget seemed to be trying to get closer to Kit and Karnage, but was too busy fending off three pirates at once. Kit felt a small, momentary twitch of alarmed curiosity over what Karnage could possibly use an oven mitt and duct tape for. But it was soon pushed out by more pressing concerns. He had to escape and make sure Grayclaw found Karnage. Otherwise, this had all been for nothing. And Baloo would be.... Over by the wall, Hooks slammed an enemy pirate against the wall. The pirate struck a lever as he went down, and the beak of the Vulture began to open, letting in a blast of wind and a glimpe of the stars flowing past outside. One of Karnage's pirates, a large rat who recognized a sinking ship when he saw it, grabbed a parachute and jumped. Maddog returned with the oven mitt and a roll of duct tape. "Dumptruck, hold him!" The huge dog yanked Kit off the floor. With a white-hot flash of rage, Kit decided he was definitely sick of being hauled about by adults like that. He kicked Dumptruck in the shin. The dog howled and dropped Kit. But before Kit could run more than two steps, Karnage grabbed him and shoved him against the plane, hard enough to make Kit see stars. "Let him go, Karnage," a voice rang out. Karnage turned his murderous glare away from Kit to the speaker. Grayclaw, flanked by Oni, Wingnut, and Slammer, had returned. The Silver Wolf held a sword at the ready, his expression stony. The fox tossed Kit aside as something of no importance. "'Allo, Grayclaw," Karnage said, his voice pitched low, a dangerous sign. "So, you 'ave returned to reclaim what is rightfully mine." "You're going down, Karnage," Grayclaw said. The wind from the open beak ruffled his fur. But at that moment, five of Karnage's pirates rushed in and piled on Grayclaw, Oni, Slammer, and Wingnut. The four were lost from view as they fought their way out. "No, no, no, NO!" Karnage hopped up and down in a rage. "You IDIOTS! You are ruining my dramatic showdown! Very well," he added, more calmly, fingering the blade of his sword. "First, my crew will make mince pie out of your crew, Grayclaw, and then you....and I....will finish this." Kit felt cold. The odds were almost even now that Grayclaw was back in the hangar; the winner would be the one who had any member of his crew left standing at the end. In his stomach, Kit felt something harden as he watched the flamboyant fox battle Wingnut and Widget at the same time. They were very near the open beak; the wind howled in, and wisps of clouds darted by outside. Wingnut, holding his sword in one paw, lifted his boot and shoved Karnage hard in the chest. The fox fell as two of his pirates jumped Wingnut. Widget, torn, finally turned to help his crewmate, but not before heaving a large chunk of machinery from one of the crippled airplanes at the fox. It struck Karnage a glancing blow on the side. Infuriated, the fox began to yell orders at his crew, struggling to get up. Someone's sword skidded across the floor, abandoned. Kit couldn't tell where it had come from. A strange, cold aura seemed to enclose him, muffling him from feeling any fright or pain. Kit picked up the sword in both paws. It was too heavy for him, he could never wield it properly. But maybe...Kit glanced at the fox. Maybe he could use it to scare Karnage. His glance went from Karnage to the lip of the beak protruding into the night. He remembered another night, almost a year ago, when Cape Suzette had been in flames beneath him, Dumptruck had held him dangling over empty space at the edge of the beak. Karnage had broken Kit's air board -- his _father's_ air board....and then gave the order for Dumptruck to drop Kit. Kit had never been afraid of flight or heights in his life, but sometimes he still had nightmares about that seemingly endless fall through the darkness, with the clouds falling away around him, the glassy surface of the bay coming closer and closer.... "Karnage," Kit said. The pirate looked up, saw the cub holding the sword, and for a moment said nothing out of sheer surprise. Kit stepped closer. "Back up," he ordered. "You must be joking," the pirate said. With a struggle, Kit managed to aim the point of the sword at Karnage's throat. "Back up!" He repeated. Karnage did, with a small, nervous laugh. "Ah, my boy, can we not discuss this? After all, we were once mentor and protegee...." The pirate flashed his teeth in a grin. Without answering, Kit moved closer. Karnage moved back again. They were on the lip of the beak now, with the wind whipping around them. The stars were startlingly bright, looking close enough to touch, up here above the ties of earth. "You killed my parents, Karnage," Kit said steadily. "I think you deserve what's about to happen to you." The light of crafty understanding came to the fox's face. His eyes narrowed. "Perhaps you would like to join them," he growled, low in his throat. A red, angry light seemed to gleam in his eyes as he slowly got to his feet, swaying a bit from the earlier blow. Kit feinted with the sword, and Karnage, taken off-guard, teetered back a step. That was it. One more feint or jab, and the pirate would fall, as Kit had fallen....as Jack and Katie's plane had fallen. "Kit, Kit don't!" Kit turned. Through the strange, cold feeling came a warm stab of relief when he saw Baloo, standing a few yards away with...Ms. Cunningham? The cold feeling shifted even more. She had come with Baloo, into a pirate's den, to find him. Slipstream hovered near them, snarling at any of Karnage's pirates that got too close. Slipstream's snarl alone seemed sufficient to the task. Then Kit turned to Karnage again; it was not wise to turn your back on the fox. He could do it. It would make up for so much. "Kit," Baloo said quietly, right behind him. "Please...." "Give me one good reason why not," Kit said, never taking his eyes from Karnage. He thought he saw a flash of fear in the fox's eyes. "You told me you got sick of the pirates once," Baloo said, and Kit turned and looked up at him. "If you do this now," Baloo said sadly, "you'll be a pirate too." Kit's eyes lowered to his paws gripped about the sword. Slowly, he let his paws go slack. The sword clattered to the floor of the hangar. Then he pressed his face against the yellow fabric of Baloo's shirt as sobs racked through him, all the more violently because he fought against them, embarrassed to be seen weeping in front of Baloo and Ms. Cunningham, and particularly in front of his enemy. Baloo just hugged him, and waited patiently for it to end. "Don't -- even -- think -- about -- it," Kit heard Becky say, in a cold, hard voice. He glanced up, sniffing, and saw Becky levelling a pistol at Don Karnage, who had been slowly reaching for the fallen sword. "KARNAGE!" Came the battle-call. Baloo hustled Kit and Becky aside, leaving Grayclaw and Karnage to face each other across ten yards of hangar. For a moment, neither pirate moved. They eyed each other, each looking for weaknesses, sizing the other up. "Let him have the sword," Grayclaw said to Becky. Ms. Cunningham lowered the pistol, and Karnage took up the sword. The two pirates advanced, and then Grayclaw charged. Their cutlasses met with the ring of metal on metal. The fox and the wolf snarled, their strength almost equal; but Karnage had already been injured, and Grayclaw had the advantage. They broke apart for a moment, breathing hard, glaring hatred at each other while their pirates watched in a circle around them. "Your time is over, Karnage," said Grayclaw. Karnage cocked his head, flicking his tail in a sudden burst of confidence. "Ahhh, perhaps. And perhaps not." Like red lightning, the fox lunged for the wall, and snatched up one of the three remaining parachutes. Then he leapt for the open beak, pulling the straps on in mid-jump. The fox went over, leaving behind nothing but a high-pitched laugh of triumph: "I will be back, Grayclaw. I will be baaaaaaaack...." "NO!!" Grayclaw hurled himself at the edge of the beak, lying on his stomach on the edge as he reached down, grasping for his enemy. "Karnage," he bellowed into the wind and the night. "You coward!" Winger and Starfinder came pushing their way through the staring, silent pirates. "Kit!" The red squirrel stopped in front of the cub. "Kit, are you all right?" "Yeah," Kit said faintly. "I'm all right." "Did we miss anything?" Winger asked, looking curiously at the pirate sprawled on the beak. Oni, Slammer, and Wingnut came over to their leader. The white ermine, her pristine fur now smudged with dirt, knelt beside Grayclaw. "I'll go after him," Grayclaw said desperately. He scrambled to his feet and reached for another parachute. "He won't get away from me this time...." Oni put her paw on his arm and looked up into Grayclaw's face. "No, mon cheri. You 'ave the revenge enough....do not risk your life for what ees not necessary. 'E will not survive down der," she said, with a glance earthward over the edge of the beak. "It ees nothing but miles and miles of ocean. It ees over, Grayclaw." The large silver wolf strained against her grasp for an instant longer. Then he released the parachute pack and returned Oni's gaze. "You know, Oni," he said. "You're right." He turned to look at the pirates, who stood silently, watching, and his somber face lit up. "I am back!" He shouted in triumph, and Grayclaw's crew took up yells of celebration. And then whoever was left of Karnage's crew joined in. Being pirates, they were practical, and knew which side their bread was buttered on. One of them, a dog in a long dingy brownish-green coat and a cap came up to Grayclaw. He only reached the wolf's elbow, and had to stand on tiptoe to reach his ear. There was a hoarse, raspy whispering for a moment. Then Grayclaw looked at the pirate, one of Karnage's that Kit recognized as Gibber, and an expression of disbelief mixed with disdain crossed his features. "What is it?" Slammer asked eagerly. "Get him," Grayclaw said, gesturing at Gibber with his thumb. "He says he never liked Karnage in the first place!" --------------------------------------------------------------------------- While the pirates were busy celebrating, Baloo, Becky, and Kit made their way to The Sea Duck, while Winger and Starfinder went topside to the landing strip to find Starfinder's rental. But before Kit, Becky, and Baloo could climb into the plane, Grayclaw spotted them and hurried over, alone. "Kit," he said, holding out his paw. "I want to thank you. For helping me take back my rightful place." Kit shook the offered paw. "Besides that," Grayclaw said, with a sudden grin, "You're one amazing kid." Baloo frowned at the pirate suspiciously. "Hey, don't look like that. I'm the good pirate, remember?" "Pirates come and pirates go," Baloo growled. "They all steal your cargo and shoot up your plane." "I don't shoot up planes," Grayclaw said. "At least -- no permanent damage. And listen, I'll give my band standing orders. Hands off The Sea Duck from now on." "Really?" Becky's face lit up. "Well, gosh, with no air pirates to worry about, our profits will triple. I can reduce our insurance premiums! That's just....." "Whoopee," Baloo said sarcastically. "Look, don't expect me to be throwin' any parties. And don't expect me to let my guard down for one second." Grayclaw bowed unexpectedly. "I wouldn't expect you to," he said, as he walked away to claim his place as captain of The Iron Vulture. "Come on," Baloo said. "Let's go home." --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Starfinder and Winger found the rental plane, intact and untouched, on the windswept landing strip. "I need to run a quick errand back at the lighthouse in San Flamingo before we meet up with Baloo at Higher For Hire," Starfinder said as they took off, his eyes on the front windshield of the cockpit. "You -- you don't have to come with me," he said. "I can take you to Cape Suzette first." In the co-pilot's seat, Winger shifted uncomfortably. "Nah," he said, with a flip of his paw. "I guess I'll come with you." "Well, then, just pick up that mike there, and radio The Sea Duck that we'll be a bit late." In the reflection on the cockpit windshield, a small smile touched the squirrel's muzzle. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dragging the sodden parachute behind, the fox pulled himself, onto the beach of a rocky, barren island. Rust-red formations rose in a jagged, miniature mountain range in the middle. There were a few bushes of scrub, a small spring, and not much else. It was difficult to make out many details in the darkness, but the growing light revealed enough to tell him that this was probably the most useless island in the sea. The surf was a soft murmuring noise in the background. Disengaging himself from the parachute strings, he turned and looked up at the sky. Far away, and getting farther, he saw several burning points of red light against a bulky shape that tapered to a point: The Iron Vulture. Karnage curled his paws into fists. Standing at the edge of the tideline, the fox raised his snout to the stars, and a bellow of pure fury reverberated off the rocks: "Grayclaw!!!" A pause, and then a second name joined the first: "Cloudkicker!!!!!!!" No one answered, but that did not bother the fox. He was the cleverest pirate to ever plunder the skies. They thought they had won; well, let them think it. They would not be prepared when he returned, and made them regret their insignificant, useless lives. He laughed, a high-pitched giggle that hovered just this side of insanity. Then the night was quiet, and the faint, far-off drone of a plane faded into silence. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- They made it to Cape Suzette at dawn. Ms. Cunningham stood holding a sleeping Molly in her arms. As Wildcat had explained, she had refused to go to sleep until everyone was home; the moment she saw Kit, Baloo, and Ms. Cunningham emerge from The Sea Duck, she had fallen asleep at Wildcat's feet. The day was going to be clear. Around them came the sounds of a city waking up for a day of business. A delivery bicycle's bell rang, a tug boat hooted, a plane taxied towards the cliffs and took off, the early morning sun shining on its wings. "Kit....Christopher," Starfinder spoke hesitantly, his paws in the pockets of his pea coat. Nearby, Winger leaned against the hull of The Sea Duck, arms folded, looking extremely bored. "I....uh....have something I've mean meaning to give you. Wish I'd thought of it the night you two landed near my lighthouse." He pulled out his paw, which was closed around a silver chain. Dangling from the chain was a compass. It spun, catching the light. "I know it can't possibly be the same as having Jack's compass....that's lost at the bottom of the ocean. But this one's mine. I used it on all my missions, including the ones with Jack and Katie. I want you to have it." "But....I can't...." said Kit. Baloo, standing next to Becky, swallowed with some hidden emotion. "You take it," Starfinder said. He reached out, took Kit's paws, and pressed the compass into them. A silence descended over the group. Ms. Cunningham politely cleared her throat. "Would you like to stay on for a few days as our guest, Mr. Flynn?" She said graciously, holding Molly in her arms. "That's Starfinder," he corrected. "Aw, but no thanks. I need to be getting back. This has been quite an adventure -- and I'm not as spry as I used to be." Baloo snorted. "Not spry. Yeah. Sure." As the sun rose a notch higher, light lanced through the gap in the cliffs, making molten patches on the water of the bay, which looked pink in the early morning light. Baloo, Kit, and Ms. Cunningham started for the office, Ms. Cunningham carrying Molly, Kit looking down wonderingly as the silver compass cradled in his paws. Wildcat followed close behind. The red squirrel didn't go to the rental plane right away. He stood on the Higher For Higher dock, fingering a button on his coat. "So," Winger said suddenly. "That's it, then, huh?" Startled, the squirrel turned. Winger had been so quiet, leaning with arms folded in the shadow of the Sea Duck's wing, that it seemed everyone had forgotten he was there. Which was maybe how Winger wanted it to be. "Guess so," Starfinder said. He nodded in the direction of the office. "Why don't you go on in, Winger. They're probably wondering where you are." Winger shrugged, the shadow of the wing intensifying as the sun rose higher. "Nah. Kit's my friend....and they've been nice to me and all. But they don't....need me." He put a slight emphasis on the word, not in a self-pitying way, but as a pertinent fact. The corners of the squirrel's eyes crinkled in amusement. "So," he said, imitating the lion cub's voice patterns. "Wanna stick around with an old geezer like me for a while? As an alternative to that dull old orphanage....or to hacking it on your own. I could use some help with the lighthouse. And if I leased that stupid old wreck of an airplane, we could fly in to Cape Suzette so you could visit Kit. And there's a good school in the village down the coast...." "School?!" Winger exclaimed in disgust. "Yes, school," the squirrel said firmly. "Bright kid like you should have some, at least. So....what do you say?" The squirrel held his breath. Winger appeared to consider, lowering his eyes to the boards of the dock and frowning. The shadow moved with the rising sun. Winger finally looked up. His tone, when he spoke, was bored, off-hand -- but Starfinder saw the sudden, happy light in the lion cub's eyes, and knew he had read him right. "Sure, Pops," Winger said with a shrug. "Whatever." --------------------------------------------------------------------------- It's the end episode #1...but this is just the beginning... Coming up next, episode #2 of Tale Spin: High Flight, "Pieces of Fate"-- A treasure hunt in the deserts of Q'ilu...an old friend...and an old enemy... lead to a race against time.