TALE SPIN: SUB-MEDITERRANEAN SEAWRECK BALOO
story by jb
Disclaimer: The following story is based on the television series, characters and situations created by Jymn Magon & Mark Zaslove, Tale Spin © 1990, 1991 Walt Disney Company/Buena Vista Television. Fan-fiction story and non-Tale Spin characters are creation of the author and may not be used without permission. This is a work of fan-fiction using characters and property of the Walt Disney Company without consent and for non-profit use.
Cutting through the seawaters, the Moltese fishing
trawlers Kerrew and Abulafia
cautiously approached the S.S. Prowler,
which wasn’t so simple considering that they were the only visible sea craft
for many kilometres around.
Then the crewmembers aboard them heard a huge sound overhead and saw an
equally-sized shadow cast upon the waters. Jordan himself poked his head out of
the bridge window, looked upward and saw what everyone on both ships saw: the
dreaded Iron Vulture.
Upon seeing the Air Pirate avatar, the Moltese canine growled
contemptuously. Oooh…if I had a rocket launcher, I’d make somebody pay!!
Tightening his grip on the steering wheel,
“Aye, sir!” responded the other trawler’s captain over the
“For the Father, Cross and Molta!! Kerrew out!”
Both trawlers ploughed at top speed, but it seemed like the Kerrew
was pulling ahead faster.
I know that we all have pledged to sacrifice ourselves for the Order, if
need be, he thought. But this one, I cannot
allow to die!
Don Karnage patiently, in his own terms, waited for his watch to mark his
part into his Operation Toy Box. Soon, very soon, the treasure that was once
denied to him by that plucky if not extremely attractive vixen archaeologist
would be his for him to steal, fair and square.
“Ready yourself, Mad Dog!”
said Karnage excitedly as the moment approached itself to commence action.
The minion prepared himself for his mark as his leader counted down:
Quickly cutting the necessary wires of the Prowler’s
electrical grid box, the chain of events that followed fell into swift
…As the de facto commander of the Iron
Vulture, Second Mate Will felt the adrenaline rush along with the other
pirates onboard after a two-day inert state as they sped toward the unsuspecting
battle cruiser, with him standing at the helm of the bridge. In the distance, he
saw the Prowler coming within their
view. He knew that the captain was obsessed in settling the score with Shere
Khan’s top naval vessel over their foiled operation and defeat at the Twin
Spheres awhile back and if all went according to plan, they will finally get
Will looked at the timer that Karnage had set for them near
the commanding chair when Operation Toy Box was planned out. To his instructions
after they had got the message to attack, the Iron
Vulture was to head out and wait momentarily until the alarm went off, then
follow through with the remainder of the plan.
A ringing noise went off on the timer. It was time to strike.
Switching on the receiver, the mongrel Second Mate addressed the flanking
squadrons outside the airship: “Squadron One Leader, fly in low and keep it
tight until Squadron Two covers you, over.”
“Copy, Will, over.”
“Squadron Two Leader, reach up to three thousand feet up and maintain height
until ordered to drop payload, then move onto target, over.”
“Copy, Will, over.”
“Remember, guys – don’t sink the
Prowler, just wound it. And avoid
hitting the September Weed and the lift. Second Mate, over and out.”
“Roger – Squadron One Leader, over
“Roger – Squadron Two Leader, over
The mongrel grinned. Those idiots won’t
know what hit ‘em…
…Captain Hotspur stood on the bridge of the Prowler, looking onto the
scene partly with interest, mostly with disdain. He felt he was more of a
chauffeur and babysitter than a sea captain. But, like a good and loyal employee
of Shere Khan Industries, he did as he was instructed. It did seem strange, he
pondered over just the other day as they repaired the turbine engine in
Velveeta, that they were recently inspected and passed over a couple of weeks
ago prior to this assignment. But his chief engineer confided in him, secretly,
that he believed it was the work of saboteurs. He shivered in terror and anger
at the thought then as it did now.
Saboteurs on my ship! Who would dare to be as bold
to do such a thing? Hotspur could only think of only one person with the
cunning, the verve and the ability to pull off such an operation.
Just then, the lights and navigational systems flickered briefly on the
bridge, which caught the panther’s attention. “Check with engineering on
that…‘hiccup’ we just experienced,” he ordered.
“Aye, Captain,” answered a nearby crewman. The sailor picked up the
receiver, to find no dial tone but flat silence. “Captain? I’m getting no
“Try another line,” said
his commander impatiently.
Doing so, he learned that
another nearby line wasn’t active either. “No luck here either, sir.”
“Everybody – check your lines!”
All hands on the bridge discovered they their lines were also dead as
Frustrated, Hotspur said: “Get communications up here, on
“Sir!” announced a jaguar crewmember. “We have another problem! All
power lines connecting our defense systems are down!”
“What? Get maintenance to deal with the problem immediately!!!”
Suddenly, the roar of an airplane was heard from above and then a sharp,
shrilling noise pierced the air around them before a dull thud sounded off,
following an explosion that wracked the Prowler violently,
knocking Hotspur off-balanced and onto the deck, along with a couple of other
standing crewmembers with him.
the devil??!!” he roared over the noise.
A shower of bullets then flailed against the surface decks, peppering the
bridge window with shatter webs, obscuring the vision outside. Crouching on the
floor, Captain Hotspur looked up and managed to see two planes soar pass the
He recognized the planes. Air Pirates!
Two more explosions shook the battle cruiser. Pandemonium ensured. All
the crewmembers had been trained in combat weaponry, but with the arms room
under lock and key under Hotspur’s orders and on his person, such knowledge
now rendered them useless.
“Where is that confounded
maintenance crew?! And where’s
communications?!!” shouted Hotspur, amongst the chaos. “We’ve got an SOS
to send out!!”
He could see the Iron
Vulture coming into view. With the Prowler’s battle guns down, the
ship was at the mercy of the looming aircraft. Now the air was filled with more
airplanes, scattering the crew onboard into a panic, as several Air Pirates
parachuted themselves onto the deck with rifles in hand and shooting began as
But just as the captain and his party were about to leave, the bridge
door smashed wide open and out spilled a horde of Air Pirates, brandishing
weapons and outnumbering the Prowler bridge crew immediately. Striding
into the room after them was a wolf in grease-stained coveralls, but looked
as if he was wearing regal attire. The bridge crew gasped.
growled Hotspur, bile rising in his throat.
“Who were you expectating – Bumphrey
Hogart? And yes, it is me, the pirate-type personage who doesn’t
needing no introdoctrination,” Karnage said grandly, gesturing to himself with
a flourish. He then asked plaintively: “Who is in charge here?”
“I am,” responded the commander sternly.
Looking stoically at him for a few seconds before saying without any
emotion in his voice, the lupine stated: “Dumptruck?”
Upon command and without warning, the hulking pirate gave a very sharp
blow across the Prowler captain’s jaw, sending him across the bridge
and into the ship’s control panel.
“Now,” repeated Karnage pointedly this time, “who is in charge
First Mate Troy stammered: “Y-y-y-you
Karnage glowered at the shivering seaman for a moment, saying afterwards: “It is nice to be seeing that Shere Khan doesn’t always hire such estupid stooges.”
As Barkley and David helped the groggy Hotspur to his feet, Karnage began to flex his control. “Mad Dog, take the former cappy-tan to the brig and anyone more idiotic than him to be disagreeing with me, si?”
“Si,” replied Mad Dog. “I
mean…oui…I-I dunno what I mean.”
“Si,” replied Mad Dog. “I mean…oui…I-I dunno what I mean.”
“Just say ‘Aye, Cap’n’ like you always be doing,” sighed
Karnage irritably. As the scraggly canine complied and lead Hotspur away, the
Air Pirate leader got back to business. “Now, where was I?….Oh, yes.
Ratchet, retrieve my clothing – and make sure it’s not wrinkled, thank you
“You two,” he pointed to his other crewmembers.
“Restore communicable control, and you three, restore partial electrical
power. Dumptruck and Gibber, you’re with me. We have a ditch-digger to
As he was about to leave, the wolf spied a half-finished
soda bottle on one of the panel stations. With a glint in his eye and wicked
wheels turning, he grabbed the bottle and said gleefully: “You know…I’ve
always be wanting to have a battleship
of my very own...”
Karnage then hurled the bottle at the steering wheel,
smashing and splattering glass and carbonated liquid everywhere.
“Men, I rechristen this ship – The Sea Wolf!!” he happily bellowed as his men cheered over their newest possession.
“Umm…about three,” answered the Aridian
archaeologist. “The Guardians of Molta’s Grand Leader ceremonial throne, a
crate of three hundred silver dishes and of course, the Moltese Eagle.”
“Help me with this box please, so we can make enough
room here,” Kit said. As they carried the box down the plane’s back ramp, he
then asked: “Have you known Katie long,
her three years ago doing a residency at Foxford – I was getting my doctoral
degree there at the time. I had heard of her prior to our first meeting and had
sincere admiration as a colleague. We shared a room together…she wasn’t too
friendly at first, but we sort of grew on each other over time. Katie’s one of
the best in the field. A bit on the aloof side, but once you know her better,
she really is a decent person.”
“I’m sure,” the youth responded
The Aridian archaeologist sensed his discomfort and went
over to him. “Kit…I know she’s abrasive and demanding at times. But
believe me; she’d go through fire and ice to help out a friend in need.”
Kit gave that some thought before saying: “Sounds like
ol’ Papa Bear…the latter part, that is.”
“Yes,” she smiled warmly. “Just like Baloo.”
The first barrage of explosions then shattered their
quiet understanding, knocking them to the deck of the air hanger. Kit and
happening?!!” she cried out.
It didn’t take long for the answer to introduce itself
literally, viewing the fighter planes and a huge magenta-and-dark gray airship
looming towards them.
the two, and then looked at each other.
“You’ve dealt with him?!” said Kit, surprised.
“A couple of years back – he’s definitely bad
news! What about you?”
“More times than you can count – or imagine! C’mon!”
the navigator said running for the control box where he banged his fist on the
down button, causing the hanger doors to come down quickly as the bullets and
bombs flew over their heads. Quickly heading for the Sea Duck, the two of
them could hear bullets ricochet off the steel-door paneling and further gunfire
in the background. Hurrying up the rear plank, Kit also pulled the level to
close and switched the seaplane’s lights off to feign inactivity.
“Kit! What are we going to do now?”
The young navigator paced around nervously. “I…I-I
don’t know! We can’t get to the
others and we sure can’t fly out of here now!”
He sat in a passenger seat, looking dismayed and moaned:
“We’ll have to hole up in here for a while, until we can think of
But what was he going to do? He’d been in tight
situations before, but nothing like this. He felt so totally lost. The
vixen was about to say something, when she heard a voice from behind her.
“Thinking is fine for philosophers, but it won’t
help this situation.”
Kit looked up. Out of the plane’s cockpit came a
figure with a height nearly to his own, becoming more familiar to him in the dim
light. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he recognized the person before them,
to which he gasped in shock:
…The September Weed’s cargo vault was all but empty, as
a couple of the Prowler’s seamen hauled away the last major crate, leaving only
Baloo, Rebecca and Katie behind with one medium-sized box lying at the
“Well, that’s the last
o’ them,” said the pilot, looking back at the last sailor leaving the vault.
“What’s this box all ‘bout, Katie?”
The archaeologist had her hands clasped in front of her chest, looking
down at a box set before her with a small smile on her face. It looked like a
momentous event for her, something she’d been waiting for the longest time as
“This, old friend…is a moment of truth.”
She then knelt down, took a crowbar, pried open the top, sorted through
the packing material and peered inside. Both their eyes widening, Katie gently
pulled out a bird statuette that managed to glisten in the pale lighting of the
vault. The two bears marveled at its glory, dazzled by the sight of the
brilliant silvery finish of the statuette encrusted with many coloured jewels.
gasped Rebecca in awe.
Baloo gave a high
appreciative whistle. “Well, pop my peepers!”
“The Moltese Eagle,”
Katie breathed, looking at it adorningly. “I’d never believed I’d ever see
it again with my own eyes. Now, finally in the right hands.” The three of them
gazed at it a few seconds more before the archaeologist placed it back carefully
in the box like a newborn into a crib.
“There,” she said. “Safe and sound.”
Just then, an explosion shook the adjoining ship, making it creak and
groan slightly, making the vault occupants almost lose their balances before
“Huh? What’s goin’ on?” commented the huge grey bear. “Did a blue whale
collide with us or somethin’??”
“I think it came from the Prowler!”
A couple of explosions followed, then the sound of
machine-gun fire. These were sounds Katie knew all too well and it terrified
her. “Oh, no,” she groaned. “Not again! It can’t be! Not
again! It can’t be!”
“Katie, what is it?” said Rebecca, coming to her.
But the archaeologist started to grab the box containing
the priceless Moltese Eagle, then the thumping of boots sounded on the derelict
ship, with her shouting in panic: “We’ve got to get out of here – fast!”
The two bears didn’t need convincing, as the gunfire
from above was more than enough to get their feet moving. Climbing up the first
flight of stairs, Katie muttered to herself: “I will not let him get
his filthy meat hooks on this! I’ve worked too darn hard for this! No
“Whaddya talkin’ about, Red?” Baloo huffed. “Who’s
But before she could answer or even reach the upper deck
level, a dark figure from atop of the stairs blocking their way with a couple of
others spoke thus: “Well, well, well…fanciful to be meeting you here
again – yes-no?!”
on the back of the redheaded vixen’s neck rose. “Great Scott!”
“Grazie, grazie…but I’m Andorran, actually.
And it is my most mah-vellous
self…” the voice paused for effect, before concluding the sentence:
End of Part Fifteen
to TaleSpin Fiction