Note: Hints at Daffy/Marvin pairing. If you don't like this pairing, I suggest you do not read further.

Disclaimer: Looney Tunes characters featured are copyrighted to Warner Brothers, not me.

Swift in step, silent in movement, the hunter in me searches through its surroundings for its prey. Eyes shifted back and forth as thoughts of semi-paranoia raced through its mind. The enemy could attack from anywhere—above, behind its back, even hiding within one of the craters, filled to the rim with shadows. And though not very large, his advanced knowledge in weaponry and familiarity with the barren and rocky environment made up for his weakness.

I jerked my head forward, and for a split-second, I thought I caught a glance of a green blur dashing by me. My conscious thought put it aside as a trick of the eye… but the hunter in me doesn't believe in simple illusions.

"Who goes there," spouted my duck bill, despite knowing that the enemy would never answer, and even if he were to, it'd only lead to a trap, or worse. Unsheathing my laser gun, I crept onward, to the darkest regions of the moon.

I knew running out in the open would expose me, but I could care less what happened next. After all, I had planted land mines all over the perimeter, and can only be seen with special goggles, which, of course, I wore. And though they don't explode, they shoot out a bolt of electricity with a strong enough voltage to stop the hearts of even the biggest of galactic beasts.

But even with my ability to see the mines, I dared not move much further. Not for safety, but rather, to get a front-row viewing of that pesky Duck Dodger, reduced to fried poultry. Finally, after all these years of playing games, I would win this war between the two of us! And he's only lucky his little porky friend is not around to witness such a tragic death.

However, there is the slight possibility that that lousy Duck would manage to pass through with little other than scratches. What will happen then? Will he…? No, he wouldn't—if he does, the headquarters would immediately strip him of his rank. Not necessarily a bad thing for me, but I wouldn't be alive to relish the experience of seeing him wallow in his depression after his removal. Yet if I were to live by then, how would I feel? What would happen to me?

"HQ to Duck. HQ to Duck Dodger," the headphone communicator blared from its small speakers, letting off static with each step I take. I let them know of my presence. "Duck, our radar has identified images of small but deadly weapons ahead. Be careful when heading to the darkest regions."

"Roger," I answered simply via the tiny microphone before cutting off the communication. It should be considered cruel by some to ignore their superior, but a feeling in my gut told me their advice wouldn't help in this situation. But how, I didn't know. Aimlessly, I aimed my gun at a random direction and pulled the trigger. In an instant, from a short distance, sparks and bolts flew, and I knew I hit something. But exactly what, I didn't know, either.

A crash, and then a loud FZZT!! One of the mines had been hit, I thought as I slowly lifted myself up high enough from the crater to view what had happened. The amount of electrical power in it intimidated even itself, and the broken core gave off an explosion—not very large, as it seemed, but still, something about it overwhelmed me. To make myself feel better, I tried to mentally visualize Duck Dodger's next step as his demise. But when I successfully managed, the image only made me wince.

Could this be that feeling they call "guilt"? Indeed, I do not remember having felt like this since I was a tiny Martian, when I stole another kid's toy and then accidentally broke it, which led me to a tangled web of lies. Unfortunately, the weighty feeling of knowing you've broken a toy is nothing compared to that of knowing you're about to kill a living being with a beating heart.

My thirty-seventh shot, my fifty-eighth pace into the pitch-black shadows, seven explosions. That was my estimate of how much of what happened through the last few minutes. I had no timer or counter other than my brain, but I trust it regardless. What I don't trust is my instinct—was it all right to cut off the only source of communication during such a tight spot? Was it all right to accept a mission solo, even when I'm aware of the dangers? And was it all right to destroy my nemesis, despite the consequences?

Destroy… That's just a slightly nicer way to say murder when referring to a living being. But whether to consider someone I have fought with for so long, whom I always thought of as nothing but my opponent, the black to one's white, the villain, as living is still debatable. After all, he might have plotted several times to obliterate planets, stars, suns, and moons, as well as invented new weapons and gadgets specifically for that purpose, but surely he couldn't be all bad. Whether human, animal, or alien, everyone has their gray areas, parts of themselves that oppose their destined labels.

I shook my head. Good or not, I had to. I must. I must end this once and for all!

Then, just that moment, a small dot of white light emitted from a distance, and coming closer, though occasionally moving left or right, as if avoiding something. As it came within decent view, the light seemed to sway, back and forth, side to side. The face of the enemy was revealed as the holder of the flare. I sheathed my weapon, but only for the moment.

"Pardon me, Duck Dodger, but I must surrender. This has gone on for too long, and one of us has to stop the fighting." I reached for the handle. "I know this must sound strange to you, but you must believe me…!"

I whipped out my gun and aimed it directly between his eyes. "After all those times of scheming, after all those attempts at destroying my beloved Planet Earth, after having once hacked into Headquarters and nearly killed my friend, why should I trust you?"

He didn't reply immediately; instead, he showed me his hands, one occupied with holding the flare, the other bare. "As you can see, I am not armed." His large gold-colored eyes showed a hint of hesitance. "I only brought the land mines, because I thought you would go kaboom and I would be able to escape before anyone caught me." I did not lower my weapon, but I did realize the sense in his little speech. He continued. "I am willing to turn myself in to Headquarters."

Now this didn't make sense at all. It felt too easy; must be an obvious trap. But if he was so willing to trick me, why use such an old trick that doesn't even work anymore?

"No." My eyes widened. But before I answered, he went on. "I won't fall for any of your tricks. And for that, I'll let you go… this time." I saw him put his laser away. "Your inability to capture me again is punishment enough for you. Try to talk your way out of this one." And with that, he turned away and walked off.

There was no good explanation for what had happened. However, sparing his life made me feel a bit less guilty.

Author's Note:

Rushed? Yes. Stupid? Probably. Completely senseless? That depends.

There's probably some inaccuracy, especially since I don't watch or know much about Duck Dodgers, but I wrote it with that theme in mind because it's the only thing they really have in common (besides being Looney Tunes characters). Also, this is probably a very boring read for some of you, so if it made you nearly asleep, then I apologize dearly.

I don't think I have anything else to say, so read and review! 