FIRST SALVO
A Zootopia fan fiction by Dan

Rated M+

(c) Zootopia 2016 by Disney Animated Studios
(Artist ownership) Ayden Gull from BRO GULLS by Anti_Dev
(Artist ownership) “I Will survive” by William Borba 2017
(Artist ownership) Will and Alex Gray, Sheath and Knife by Harmarist
(Artist ownership) Anubis and the buried bone by Harmarist
(Artist ownership) The K’zin by Lary Niven.
(Artist ownership) Don Carnage Disney’s TAIL SPIN

Chapter 10
Leave and School: Part 2

    “Take a black kid from Memphis, Tennessee who sang like a Choir angel but distrusted white people. A white Irish kid from Boston who never saw a single black person in his life save when his relations called them the “N” word and has a really bad “Baaaaastaaan” voice. A Baptist kid from Buford South Carolina who has a rebel flag in his room...bigger than his room and always said “The South shall rise again!” and a Jewish kid from a small town in Texas who never saw the ocean, much less a ship, packed chewing tobacco in his mouth like a sack full of potatoes and tried to talk while doing it and you think they’d never mix well in society much less in a small space aboard a warship?”

      “Shared experience makes for strange bed fellows. Marvin, John, Ken and I were a strange Mix of characters with three things in common...We loved Elf Quest, played Dungeons and Dragons for days and drank Singapore Slings like water. And we would still die for each other today if it came to it.

The Author.

Downtown Zootopia
noon
November 12, 2039
Move in Day….Jackson’s apartment in Savanna Central

      The knock on the door got Jackson out of the kitchen space and to the apartment door where he wrapped his arms around Gilly and gave him a strong hug….”Welcome! Need help with your stuff?” Jackson asked as he gestured Gilly through the door. “Want a soda or a beer?”

     “Soda’s fine.” Gilly replied as he looked around. “Wow! This is choice! How did you get this place?”

     “Small details.” Jackson said as he waved a paw. “So….these are our room mates...This is Kerdle, he was in Two-Five-Seven and that’s Whitney, she was in Two-Five-Seven. Guys? This is Gilly, he was in Two-Five-Nine with me.”

     “Sup!” Kerdle said as he shook Gilly’s hand. “Where from?”

      “Originally from Deer Borough but I’ve lived in Rain Forest since my parents split up.” Gilly replied. “And you guys?”

      “I’m from Downtown.” Kerdle replied. “Whitney? You’re from Sahara?”

      “I know…” Whitney replied. “Strange...very few weasels are found beyond the Burroughs right? My mother’s an electrician herself and right now Sahara Square is where all the meat is...meat as in money.”

       Jackson pointed to Gilly. “So what did you do on leave?”

       “This….and this….” Gilly replied as he gestured as if he was on a bicycle on second and running the next.”

       “Seriously?” Kerdle asked. “You too?”

        “Every morning at four sharp dude, I swear….up….and gone. I had to exhaust the heck out of myself to go back to sleep. I’d bike ten miles or run ten miles. My mother complained...she actually complained about how neat my room was? One day I came back and she threw all my nicely pressed and folded clothes on the floor and un-made my bed.” Gilly said as he sat down in a lounger. “I didn’t hang with any of my friends from High School save one and I think I sort of scared him for a little bit because I was so crack and square.”

       Whitney giggled….”We have an exercise wheel at the house? It’s 3AM...my ear buds are in, my phone is going full blast, im in my panties and socks, running on that thing until I passed out snuggling a body pillow. My friend Jade could not stay up with me I was so wired up.”

      Gilly gestured to Jackson...”How’s your parents?”

      “They’re good.” Jackson replied. “My Dad’s back is a little better. He actually started doing slow runs and trots with me. I helped my mom to get out her frustrations by sparring with her in the “first prink’s” combat exercise room. She’s no old bunny...I got a good shiner by saying she hit like an old carriage horse.”

       Kerdle raised a paw...”Since Gilly’s here now? What’s the house rules?”

       “First thing? Anyone smoke?” Jackson asked.

       “Yeah right...smoke…?” Gilly replied as he pulled out a Jewl vape’r. Whitney pulled out her Jewl as did Kerdle…

       “Ok….vape is fine.” Jackson said nodding. “For food? Everyone takes care of their species needs...fox, bunny centered food and so forth and 30 bucks a piece for common things, soda, beer and delivery or take out if we decide on that kind of a night.”

         Whitney raised a paw...”I say….40/40 between each of us? And each of us buys species related nice things for someone else, you know….crave items we might like to have?”

        Gilly nodded...”I like that. Yeah….let’s do 40/40.”

        Jackson nodded...”Ok...Kerdle? Sound cool?”

 
       “Yeah.” Kerdle replied. “40/40….what about rooms? We have two bed rooms and obviously Whitney deserves her own room.”

        Jackson pointed. “Whitney gets a room, Kerdle shares with Gilly and I’ll set up my stuff over in that corner with a curtain.”

        Gilly shook his head...”No Jackie. This is “your” place dude.”

        “And I just made the rooms so no complaints.” Jackson replied. “Unless you’re not comfortable sharing a room?”

       “I’m ok.” Gilly replied. “I was just pointing out that you got the place.”

       “And then we’d have two mammals out here and the living room wouldn’t be so livable for everyone.” Jackson replied. “And no cruising around with your stuff in “full Muskrat”. T-Shirts, shots, underwear, bra and panties are fine….panties for females that is…..unless Whitney says otherwise?”

      Everyone chuckled. Kerdle waved a paw. “And the bathroom….if you can do it and not need the bathroom? Please leave it open for others? Don’t be a “novel hog” on the toilet and tie the bathroom up on the rest of us?”

      “This coming from a mammal who spent a half hour every day of Boot making out with his tail in a stall.” Whitney snorted. “You better teach him how to take care of that thing Jackie? He’ll flunk classes obsessing over fleas.”

      “Have some empathy Whitney?” Jackson snorted. “We can’t all have low maintenance tails like weasels. But you could spend more time better cleaning eye gunk out of your lids.”

      “Very funny….what the heck are you any way?” Whitney asked as she quickly walked around Jackson. “Have you decided a species name for yourself yet? I think “jackie-bits” or “Jackie-Box” would work for you.”

      “No...I haven’t figured it out yet.” Jackson replied. “I could just put down “Ima-nigma” and see what the reaction would be.”

      “What’s on the menu tonight?” Gilly asked. “Should we maybe get some groceries and cook?”

       Jackson waved a paw…..”Nah….Weasel pizza, bunny pizza, fox pizza and what the fluck is this?...pizza!”

       “Cool.” Kerdle said as he licked his chops. “I love these simple unanimous decisions.”

        “Oh?” Jackson added. “Two other things? Transportation to and from base is simple...my car, unless you intend to stay after school and do something on the base. Save parking and gas money. And….if you need the apartment by yourself for one or two days? Please tell everyone else? Anyone have a problem with not being here up to two days for one of us?”

        “I agree.” Whitney said nodding.

        “Uh uh...” Kerdle said nodding. “I’ll even make room at my Mom’s place for anyone.”

        “I’m cool with that.” Gilly said nodding.

        Whitney raised her paw...”Oh? Any of you play spades?”

        “Yeah.” Kerdle replied.

        “Never heard of it.” Gilly replied.

        “Don’t know it.” Jackson replied.

        Whitney nodded...”Ok...tonight’s activity is….pizza and spades.”

         “Strip spades?” Kerdle snickered.

        “Kerd? Don’t make me kill you?” Whitney replied with a smile.

Downtown Zootopia
noon
November 12, 2039
Special closed meeting of the Zootopian Governing Counsel.

Attendants:

Mayor Cesar Leo

Tundra Town: Counsel Male Winrow (Polar Bear)

Downtown: Counsel Male Chaud Tenu ( Pig )

Sahara Square: Counsel Female Avi Tolemi (Camel)

Savanna Central: Counsel Female and Counsel President Sharla Derning (Cheetah)  

The Tri-Buroughs: Counsel Male Donner (Raindeer)

Defense Intelligence: Rheana Lundgrin (Honey Badger) Sancho Ricardo (Gray Wolf)

Secretary of Defense: Baghera (Black Panther)

Secretary of State: Baloo (Brown Bear)

Doctor Emeritus of U-Zootopia: Mandemous (Orangutan)

     Sharla Derning tapped a wooden block on her table...”We now bring this meeting to order. The subject being the report compiled by our intelligence agency over the course of the last month in the wake of the MV Provider incident and the information provided by Provider’s First Mate. The floor recognizes Mrs. Lundgrin.”

    Rheana walked up to the adjustable “pet steps” which allowed her to stand at the height of the podium where everyone could see her…

     “Your honor….Madam president….members of the counsel. You have all had the time to read the brief delivered to you so the synopsis summary is simple. The Kzinti by all evidence has two objectives….

1. To slowly and incrementally divide our citizens through progressive pressure when we react to each increasing encroachment with responses to avoid and prevent conflict.

2. To eventually drive us from the Tundra Straits and the Western Sea, deprive us of our main staple supply of fish and then when time and conditions avail...attack us.

     “My head of intelligence gathering, my associate Mister Ricardo is assured of his results which are shared by Doctor Emeritus Mandemous.” Rhena said.

     Counsel Male Donner raised his hoof in reply. “Reading the entire report, the description of the amount of communication traffic mister Ricardo is able to decipher causes me and some others of the counsel a little concern. No disrespect to you Sir.”

     Sancho leaned forwards...”None taken Mister Deer...but if you want to wait until we’re like 40 or 50 percent, that’s your decision. I just don’t feel like waiting while my stomach gets torn open and my junk ends up on a dinner plate as a Kzinti delicacy.” 

    Sharla Derning tapped a wooden block on her table...”Mister Richaro? Please observe decorum in this room and watch your words?”

    Richardo replied….”Do you want the politically correct term for maul’d to death madam President or do you want the truth? I believe even with results as low as 10 percent, we’ve gathered enough to be pretty accurate as to the Kzinti’s operational mentality.”

   Mandemous stood up. “May I please Madam President?”

     Sharla Derning tapped a wooden block on her table...”Floor recognizes Emeritus Mandemous.”

      “Gentle Mammals.” Mandemous said. “View what you have in this context. The Kzinti….consider themselves “The apex predator” and they view our society as a “perversion of the natural order” is there any of you in this room who does not deny the fact that we were once how the Kzinti see the world?”

        “We became Zootopia because our fore-bearers realized that had things continued as they once did...we would have driven ourselves to extinction. Our great founders did not know of any land beyond Zootopia, they believed that they were the only mammals in the entire world and as such they made the great decision to leap away from the established order….that prey were only good for food and that Predators have every right, whim and power to destroy and maul with out regard to consequences. The Kzinti however….are a single powerful predatorial species, occupying one land, molded in singular thought and driven with the age old Predatorial purpose….to them…...all of us in Zootopia are vile perverted filth, a cancer to be lanced. Predator or Prey? Every Zootopian in their minds should be run through with a spit and cooked on a fire…..every one.”

       The counsel room was quiet for minutes until Chaud Tenu from Downtown spoke with a breaking voice….

      “It seems we have no choice then….we must attack them first.” He said.

      “Do that? And you might find yourself “being quartered” far sooner.” Sancho Richardo replied. “We have no idea as to their military power beyond their visible naval forces. In that aspect, the Kzinti are being good at keeping that fact hidden. We could jump ourselves right into a buzz saw of hurt.”

       Baghira raised a paw. “I second Mister Richardo’s estimation. A hasty action by us could have devastating consequences.”

      “So just what is your opinion Mister Defense Secretary?”  Counsel Female Avi Tolemi asked. “We can’t attack them and it seems even defending ourselves has serious disadvantages which will eventually lead to war. “We should not allow them to venture into our waters anymore. I say when their ships violate “our” territorial waters? We should not ask nicely for them to leave….we should sink their ships and send an unquestionable message.”

  Counsel Male Winrow Replied. “Which puts us into the same dilemma, starting a war we may not be prepared for. A recent survey of residents in Tundra Town shows that the citizens do not want a war at all. They still say every possible effort must be advanced to prevent conflict. I have a son in the Navy right now and I certainly don’t want a war. But I certainly don’t want our citizens left to be pick overs at a fish market.”

    Baloo stood up….” At this point my friends? The issue is one of time. We must buy time. We must continue to try and reason, negotiate, contact, talk and do whatever diplomatic means can avail us and ready both our citizens and our military...which brings up the question….do we talk about expanding both the Navy and the Fleet Marine?

    Baghira replied….”It would be more economical to expand our drone forces. We are fortunate to have the Western sea and the Tundra Straits as Manageable buffers where if we employ more underwater defensive drones, it may make any venture by sea a risk the Kzinti may not wish to entertain should conflict break out.”

    Donner raised a hoof...”I suggest we freeze retirements of senior commissioned and non-commissioned officers in the Fleet Marine and expand the numbers for another combat division. Also? We should stop being so timid and fly our drones closer to the demarcation line, which I will remind the counsel? Has never been recognized with any legitimacy.”

    Mayor Cesar Leo replied. “No….we will not fly our airborne drones close to the demarcation line. We will not venture even the suggestion of sailing our submersible drones past the demarcation line. We will put the suggestions of expanding the Fleet Marine, freezing NCO retirements and adding to our submersable drone fleet to a vote after further debate. Are there any dissenting opinions?”

    No one raised their paws or hooves.

    Mayor Cesar continued. “We will continue further debate on the issues at hand in three days and hold a vote on the agreed defense issues at that time. Madam President? You may move on to domestic concerns now.”

ZOO TV
noon
November 12, 2039
Public Service Announcement 

    “Hello...I’m ZPD Sargent Benjamin Clawhauser. I’m here to explain the city’s new program to improve the beauty of our great metropolis and reduce the potential for wide spread damage resulting from the collection of junk and unnecessary debris on our streets and in our neighborhoods. The ZPD will begin to sternly enforce new regulations regarding debris piling around local businesses abandoned properties and new construction sites. With many of our homes and businesses built close together her in the downtown core, we must all do our part to reduce the spread of destructive fires resulting from un-kempt and un-controled flammable materials. This is Sargent Clawhauser for this ZPD public service note.”

     The PSA was a subtle way of introducing the populace to limiting potential fuels which may aid an enemy attack in swiftly spreading “fuel made” conflagrations around the city.   

Downtown Zootopia
7pm
November 12, 2039
Jackson’s apartment in Savanna Central

       Jackson put the delivered pizzas on the kitchen area counter and popped open the lids as Whitney put a stack of paper plates down and started passing soda drinks around….

      “Here’s to Jackson. Everyone thank him for this wonderful apartment.” Whitney said in a toast.  Everyone did the “here, here” salute, drank a little and started diving into their species themed pies…

       “So?” Gilly asked Whitney as he loaded his plate. “How do you play spades?”

        Whitney walked over to the coffee table and brought back a deck of playing cards...”Ok...cards have four suits….heart, spade, diamond, club. There’s nine numbers from 2 to 10 and four face cards….Ace of Spynx, King of Lions, Queen of Sheep-ah and the Jackal. Each suit in total has thirteen cards.”

       Whitney flipped some of the cards on the Kitchen counter. “Spades is all about estimating card numbers and from your hand how many cards can make what’s called a book of four. Everyone throws down four cards. The highest number or the highest face card always takes the four which makes a book. Anyone lost yet?”

       Gilly and Jackson shook their heads. “Sounds easy.” Gilly said.

       Whitney showed them four different heart cards...”See? Of these four heart cards….the ten wins so the player who threw the ten collects that “book”. Now…let’s say….hearts are being thrown down but you don’t have any hearts. You got two choices….You throw a spade to swipe the book or...you through a different suite card to “throw” the book to someone else. There’s strategy involved here.”

         Jackson pointed….”So I can use a spade to take the book or not use a spade and lose the book. But someone could “out spade” me right?”

         Whitney nodded back. “Yup. Say Gilly throws a Queen of hearts. You through a three of spades, I throw a four of diamonds because I think I shouldn’t risk a spade to take the book but Kerdle throws down an Ace of Sphinx Spade card. Kerdle takes the book.”

        Whitney picked up the cards. “Let’s all go into the living room and I’ll take you guys through a few hands. Did you know Spades is practically a weasel religion? I don’t know of any house that didn’t have Spade nights. Heck, I don’t know of any bar where a weasel didn’t get knifed, shot, robbed or raped from a game of spades. My old uncle made a living off of card counting and Spade sharking. He also….ended up deader than a pine board. Someone spiked his drink with hemlock juice when he sharked them….hence the phrase “Tongue Whacked that mother flucker.”

        “We’re not going to play for money?” Kerdle asked.

        “No...we are not going to play for money.” Whitney replied. “What kind of room mate would I be if I deprived everyone of their paychecks? I’m going to show you guys what you need to know about judging your hands and when to throw and not to throw certain cards, trust me it’ll be fun.”

       After an hour of chewing slices and playing cards...the four room mates sat around just throwing out stories of life, dislikes and likes, boyfriends and girlfriends and what ever came to mind for the moment…

       “Ok...so…?” Gilly asked. “Any number of suites over five cards is a trouble risk right? So if you have a face card, like an Ace, you should chose not to throw it?”

       Whitney replied. “That means you have 8 cards left “out in space” and assuming everyone has a card or two of the same suit, chances are you might throw it and luck out or you loose it. Best to try and keep it late in that round and probably suck up an extra book. This is where you make the choice before you even start. “Should I count the Ace as a book or not? Always go one less than the number of books you think you can take. Also remember you’ll be playing with a team mate so don’t rob their tail of books or you’ll screw each other.”

      Jackson looked at his cell phone...”Since we start school tomorrow? Should we all turn in at Ten?”

       “I have no problem with zonking (sleeping) now.” Gilly replied.

       “Jackie? You get the bathroom first since you’re sleeping out here.” Keble said. “Once you’re out...we’ll go to our rooms.”

       “Well….I wasn’t going to kick everyone out of the living room.” Jackson replied. His cell phone chime went off and he quickly plugged in a set of ear buds as the name came up on the screen….”Scuze guys.” Jackson said raising a paw finger…..

       “Hiiiiiiieeeeeee.” He said as Darla’s picture popped onto the screen.

        “You starting school tomorrow? Did you get the apartment?” Darla asked.

        “Yeah we do. There’s four of us here. Where’s your school?” Jackson asked as he sat in a sofa chair…

       “Rain Forest near the house. I started school last week.” Darla said with a cheery voice. “I hope to get a break in two weeks to see you.”

        Jackson smiled in reply. “Hopefully I won’t have duty. Say? Do you know how to play spades?”

         “No...”Darla replied. “But I can learn quick enough. Please tell me we’re not going to get together just to play cards? Please?”

         “What ever you want to do, I am gain for it.” Jackson replied. “Let’s plan for two weeks ok? I’ll set it up and we’ll get the apartment to ourselves. Sound good?”

        “Sounds awesome.” Darla replied. “I’ll text you tomorrow. Snuggies Jackie.”

        “Kiss n snuggies.” Jackson replied as he kissed the phone.

         Gilly walked up to the chair...”Darla?”

         “Yup.” Jackson replied. “And she is not interested in Spades….obviously.”

Savanna Central
8am
November 16, 2039
UBC grounds (Urban Combat Course)
Fleet Marine Corps Base, Camp Quanaco

        The five wolves tore across the street fast going “feral four” up to the intended target door where Corporal Witchner (a brown and black Siberian Wolf) slid to a stop and wheeled around fast on a foot to break in the front door and lead his team into an assault of a two story building…

       That’s when the Gunny blew his whistle! “STOP! STOP! STOP! I said stop...I know you all want to chew on lamb ass but stop...” Gunnery Sargent of Marines Chancellor “Chancy” Hike snarled as he reached out and pulled a young light gray wolf from the line…

       “Private? What’s the scenario?” Chancy asked. “Come on Private? If you can’t answer me quick enough? I’m putting you on the ground now what’s the scenario?”

       The young Wolf Marine answered...”Gunny...the scenario is two “opfor” (Opposition Forces) held up inside the house as reported by a “hat Gnat” (Hat Gnat is a small Marine recon airborne drone)

       Chancy nodded. “Very good “pup dog” now...team of five assaulting the building and you are where?”

       “Number three in the line Gunny.” The Marine replied.

       “Number three.” Chancy said nodding. “And what’s in your hand there Marine?”

       “A Shotgun Gunny.” The Marine replied.

       Another Marine said smirking...”Gee, I thought it was his cock knot?”

       Chancy stormed up to the wise cracking wolf, kneed him in the stomach and put him on the ground...”You’re dead twit nuts! Get up and run around the block a few times and maybe you’ll watch your stupid yapper next time there genius.”

       Returning to the Marine with the shotgun….Chancy took him to the front of the line and snatched Whitchner’s ear with a twist until the Corporal whined….. “Yelp! Yelp! Yelp! Ow! Gunny?!”

       “At least you’re still alive Corporal.” Chancy replied pointing into Whitchner’s snoot. “Where’s the shotgun supposed to be on an execution plan number 14? Two Opforce in the whole building, where’s he supposed to be Corporal? Answer quick on the spot please?”

      Whitchner realized his mistake. “In the lead Gunny.” He said frowning.

       “And why in the front Corporal?” Chancy asked.

      “Because he has nickel frag rounds and being caught in front of the business end of a shotgun in a tight space will suck.” Whitchner replied.

      “Correct pup...you gain wisdom.” Chancy said as he pointed to all the wolves. “It’s everyone’s responsibility to not only obey the orders of the team leader but to sing out when a mistake is being made…..otherwise you’re all dead and Gunny spends endless time writing to Mommy and Daddy of how their precious cub died making or allowing dumb mistakes. Please don’t do this to your Gunny as your Gunny loves you all very much as his own children.”

      One Wolf Private replied….Gunny? Can I have a comfort hug from daddy?”

      Chancy snickered...”Get to running with the other dumb tail there junior. There’s your hug from Daddy.” The private joining the other wise cracker young wolf in physical re-education.

       “Whitchner?” Chancy called the team leader over to him...”I know it’s still early there Corporal but pay attention ok? You almost let these guys run like a pack chasing a female to gang fluck. No one covering, no one looking. If you’re going to be a squad leader Corporal? Show some teeth and cut some tails but keep them in good order you hear me?”

        “Yes Gunny.” Whitchner replied. Just then...Chany’s phone chimed. “Run them through it again Whitchner.” Gunny said before he turned to his phone. “Gunnery Sargent Hyke, I’m doing drills and have no time to beat meat right now.”

       “It’s your Sister Grace you toilet mouth Jar Head.” Chancy’s little sister replied.

        “Hey!” Chancy said with a smile. “How are you “Taffy”? How’s the hub and cubs?”

      “Good.” She replied. “I’m calling because of William and Alexander. I wanted to ask you if you had time to occupy the boys so Gordon and I could have time to ourselves since he has a week off from his job?”

      “Need to break out the whelping box again?” Chancy snickered.

      “I swear I’m going to slap the snit out of you Marine.” She snorted. “Yes….we hope you’ll baby sit so we can have peace an quiet. Besides, Alexander is chewing the furniture because he wants time with you.”

       “Sure...” Chancy replied. “Send em. I’m sure they’ll have fun doing ten mile runs, throwing hand grenades...I think Alex is old enough now to have his own flame thrower.”

        “Chancy?” She begged. “Go easy on the stealth attempt to recruit my children? Not that Alexander doesn’t give Will heart attacks already by attacking his ears while wearing that green cap and red hoodie you gave him.”

        “Hey...I’m sorry Alex is interested in becoming a member of the “civilized pack”. I need someone to replace me because my retirement date is approaching. I promise you Taffy...I will not force it on the cubs. If Alex makes the choice? It will be on his own.”

       Grace replied...”I’ve never had reason to doubt you Chancy. So call me when you have time will you?”

       “Not a problem Sis.” Chancy replied. He clicked off the phone and turned back to his current family issue….

        “FEEEEEEEEP! FEEEEEEEEP!” STOP! STOP! STOP! EVERYONE BACK OUT HERE, WE’RE GOING TO RUN OVER THIS AGAIN UNTIL YOU GET IT RIGHT!”

Downtown Zootopia
7pm
November 16, 2039
Buckies Cafe
Troop Street and Hibiscus Lane in Downtown Zootopia

       The cafe tonight was packed with police officers both active and retired as it had been once a week for the past 25 years since Sargent Benjamin Clawhauser began the meetings as a way to build friendships and comradely spirit among the various precinct houses. Only now he was sitting in a chair trying not to ball his eyes out as his Niece sat holding his big paw and Chief Wilde was scaling a chair to get on the table at the center of attention by all the ocean of blue around it.

     “Evening everyone. I want to thank those of the active force who’ve come and our friends...Francine….Delgato….Chief Bogo….Snarloff….Fangmeyer, good to see all of you again; it has been a while.” Judy said. She took a moment to look at Benjamin...”I don’t think I need to say why we’re all here tonight...we’re saying goodbye to a mammal we all love….not a goodbye for good just….just that...the First Precinct will be different after noon tomorrow.”

    Judy sniffled….”You’d think I could get through this without starting to go to pieces right? I mean...every morning when you come to work, you see the same cheery big face and you just want to grab it and twist on it like Play Doe and...oh my Gawd Ben I really suck at this...”

      Benjamin stood up with a gentle smile and pulled Judy into his big arms…

      “It’s alright Chief.” He said. “You did just fine...”

     “WE LOVE YOU BENNY!” Fangmeyer screamed out.

      “A NUMBER ONE AWESOME!” Another officer said as she raised her beer. “TO BENNY CLAUHAUSER! A BIG NUMBER ONE FLATFOOT!”

      “HERE HERE!” Came the loud replies.

       “COME ON BENJAMIN!” Francine trumpeted. “SPEECH BEFORE YOU FLOOD THE PLACE BABE!”

         Benjamin placed Judy in her chair where her husband draped an arm around her and kissed her...”It’s alight carrots...even Chief’s cry.” Nick said as Ben gave him a pet on the head...”You two, I will miss most of all.” Ben said before he stood up to address all his friends…

        “Phewwww….” Ben shook his head as he felt his niece once again take a paw. He turned his head to give her a gentle kiss...”My rock you guys. I know that the reception desk is in the best capable paws with this young lady. As many of you know...I’ve organized these meetings for…..ages it seems. We’ve piled on many new faces, said goodbye to many good faces….raised our glasses to many who left on the last patrol call which still hurts every time we do it. Once again… a toast to our dearly departed brothers and sisters…..salute….”

      “SALUTE!” The officers replied as they toasted and drank. Then Ben continued….

      “Brothers…..Sisters…...tomorrow will be both a grand day and a sad day. Grand that we will pass the torch again to a new generation of officers, sad that I must depart from that which I love….and damn it…..”sniff”….damn it I love every one of you and it has been the greatest time of my life wearing the uniform and seeing all of you….knowing that every day in every way possible we did exactly what Chief Wilde has always called us to do….make every day brighter and better than the last. Leave the city to the next day a little more rich and a lot more blessed. My friends….it has been an honor to serve beside each and every one of you. When I cross the floor of the Precinct tomorrow for the final time...the only thing that will be in my heart and in my big old fat head will be…..The Herd, and the Herd, and the herd. Today…..tommorrow…...forever.”

       Benjamin sat back in his chair and balled which set the whole place balling until Judy controlled herself enough to stand up….

      “ATTENTION! HIS HONOR….CESAR LEO...MAYOR OF ZOOTOPIA!” Judy cried out and all the officers rose as the Mayor entered with his wife by his side and came up to where Benjamin was sitting in tears…

      “Officer Clawhauser? Would you be so kind as to stand?” The Mayor asked.

      Benjamin’s niece helped her Uncle to stand and he gave the Mayor a crisp salute as he took deep breaths to control his sobbing…

      “The mark of a great mammal.” Cesar said. “Is being unafraid to show emotions when emotions are called for. Let us note that before he stood the watch as the first face of the first precinct...Officer Clauhawser was another every day beat pounding officer who gave everything in his duty….even his health when he suffered the severe displacia  in taking down a dangerous suspect which removed him from street duty. But what we lost in a fine patrol officer, we gained as a wonderful representative of the department. I know that Ben in his typical fashion will say he doesn’t deserve this….to which I say…..you have no choice officer Clawhauser so keep your maw shut.”

      Cesar took the gold and blue ribbon with the big medal attached to it and held it out before Ben’s face….

      “Officer Benjamin Wilson Clauhawser...for 30 years of exemplary, faithful, cheerful and dedicated service to the Zootopian Police Department, our city and on behalf of our citizens….I award you the Order of Merit and hear by advance you to the Police rank of Chief Emeritus with the retirement pay and benefits deserving. To you Sir…..I salute you.”

      All the officers snapped to attention and saluted with the mayor as he affixed the four stars of Police Chief rank on Ben’s collars and then again hugged him as the big Cheetah cried. Soon he surrounded by his fellow officers who ritually knocked their paws and hooves on Ben’s new stars as a sign of respect.

      Judy knew just how to break up the sad atmosphere...She showed Benjamin the picture of Jackson peeing on Nick and the big Cheetah fell over laughing himself silly….

Savanna Central
10am
November 24, 2039
Naval Education Center, Savanna Sands Naval Base.
Electronics/Electrician School

       School was divided into two phases….a week of classroom and a week of labs. The campus had the feeling of a college with very few reminders that you served in a military, save the morning muster and marches to and from the school house and the duty roster which was by four sections with each section taking a whole weekend in turn to stand watches or serve with the base Master at Arms corps on main gate or fence patrol duty.

      All the teachers were veterans or college level teachers and it just so happened that the one teaching Jackson’s small class happened to be…...a Hopps? Maybe a family relation, who was to say?

      Johnathan Hopps was 31 years old. A brown bunny with a dark brown hair tuft who was pretty cool and funny yet uncompromising when it came to behavior. Two students (a Wolf and a mouse) we standing in the hallway getting an ear full from a chief for their use of curse words. Still...Jackson wanted to ask that obvious question but held back for fear of causing Mister Hopps undue trouble.

      “Mister Wilde? Good selectivity requires what kind of a bandpass?” Johnathan asked as he wrote on his erase board…

      “Narrow Sir.” Jackson answered quickly.

      “And…..good fidelity requres a wider bandpass to amplify what?” Johnathan asked.

      “The outermost frequencies of the side bands.” Jackson answered. 

      “Very good Mister Wilde.” Johnathan said as he pointed to his board. “Most radar and radio receivers are a compromise between good selectivity and high fidelity. What’s the main problem with AM receivers?”

      A mouse on Jackson’s desk named Albert (from the 1974 christmas cartoon “Twas the night before Christmas”) bounced up and down…

      “Always the eager one Albert?” Johnathan remarked. Please by all means…

       Albert adjusted his glasses….” The difficulties with the AM band is insufficient band pass and substandard fidelity over long ranges. The longer the range, the more cracking and distortion suffered in the return from the transmission point. There is also gross sound distortion. This is why AM is more commonly used with battlefield radios at short distances than aboard naval warships at medium to long ranges.”

       Johnathan smiled and nodded. “Albert? Do you take any time at all for leisure.”

       “Study is my leisure Sir.” Albert replied as he sat back down. Now you’d think Albert might take some ribbing for being an “egg and Cheese” brain of sorts and indeed as Jackson looked around there were some faces giving the young mouse a little “miffed” attitude. Surprisingly though? It came more from the other Rodentia inhabitants. One of which tried to use the opportunity of Mister Hopps turning his head to fire a spit ball….which Jackson caught and without delay he got out of his chair and confronted the frowning sea-mouse…

      “Straw! Now!” Jackson commanded. Mister Hopps was calm enough to let Jackson snatch the mouse up by his uniform flap and carry him out of the room where he plopped the miscreant on the floor in the hallway and sat scowling at him…

     “What’s your problem Myler? Does he offend you that much?” Jackson asked.

      Myler was a grey and black mouse with a negative attitude to start with. He just gave Jackson a curt snort in reply.

      “Your little act hides some insecurity there Myler.” Jackson said. “I don’t think you came all the way through boot camp to here to fail out so what’s eating at you?”

     “Piss off bunny.” Myler snorted.

     “For your own information Myler? I’m not all bunny. If you want to sit out here and fail out of school, that’s your choice. But you’re not going to sit in class, attack other shipmates and be a complete tail turd. Be thankful it’s another seaman talking to you and not the school master chief because you’d be on a bus home. Now sit out here and have a little thinking time.” Jackson got up to leave when Myler waved a paw...”Hey! Wait a second?”

      “Yeah?” Jackson replied.

      Myler gestured to be picked up then pointed to Jackson’s ear so he could talk to him quietly….”Whisper…..whisper”

     Jackson’s ears perked up. “Are you…..are you snitting me?”

     “Whisper….whisper….”

     Jackson shook his head….”How the hell did you make it through boot to here?” He asked.

     “I was lucky.” Myler replied. “I just….I just winged it.”

       “Seriously?” Jackson gasped then shut his mouth for a moment. “You have dyslexia? Myler! You lied to enlist, they could put serious charges on you!”

       “Come on Jackson!” Myler replied. “It’s all I could do! My little brothers are all the family I have. We’ve been stuck in a stupid orphanage for years. I had to do something! I know...I had an issue with Albert because he’s smart as a cracker...ok, bad choice of words but...see what I have to deal with?!”

       “Then why don’t you ask for help?” Jackson replied. “You never bother to ask before you go jumping on mammals.”

       “Ask him? Ask mister prim and strait with the high I.Q. to help me? He’d turn me in, you know he would.” Myler sighed.

      “And how will you know unless you ask?” Jackson replied. “Albert may be “A.J. squared away but if you’d have the guts to ask him for help instead of being a little jerk wad, he might help you get over this problem of yours. Do you want me to talk to him?”

     Myler nodded….”Please?”

     Jackson took Myler back into the classroom and set him back on his desk. “It’s all good Mister Hopps. Sorry if the class was bothered.”

     “Not at all Mister Wilde.” Johnathan replied. “Now...in communications. Does greater power improve link performance or degrade it?” Johnathan looked around the room to a female fox...”Miss Senshen?”

     Senshen stood up...”No Mister Hopps. Constantly outputting maximum power can lead to serious RFI/EMI problems (on the ship doing so) and will not significantly increase the signal propagation range. It also increases the vulnerability of the sending ship to enemy range radio detection devices.”

       “You know what?” Johnathan said pleased. “I am really happy with this whole class so far. On the whole, you all show great enthusiasm for the material and in general you have excellent manors...rough spots occasionally. I highly encourage you all continue to study in groups where possible. The classroom and the labs are always open for extra time training, all you have to do is form groups and schedule proctor times after school in advance; we all usually stay around the school house until 7pm. It’s now close to lunch so all of you go and be back at noon and we’ll finish the day at 2pm.”

        With that...Jackson picked up Albert and Myler and carried them both into the school courtyard…

         “Albert? This is Seaman Myler.” Jackson said as he introduced Myler. “Myler has a slight problem regarding school...”

          “You have dyslexia.” Albert just blurted out. Myler would have started cussing had Jackson not lightly thumped him on the head. “Let him finish Myler?”

          Albert played with his glasses...”It became obvious because your face showed some serious distress when we were going through some of the classroom quiz sheets. Yet despite that? You’ve managed to make good marks which shows you’re not bad off academically. You can decipher a lot to get you through but that won’t help you for long as the course gets tougher...”

         Albert crossed from one of Jackson’s paws to rest his on Myler’s shoulders. “You worry I might expose you. Fear not….your condition is a correctable one and I’m not a slug and your insults don’t really hurt anyway. Ship mates do not allow ship mates to fail if they don’t want to fail so….I would assume you don’t like failing?”

         Myler nodded his head. “Good...I think failure absolutely sucks as well. We’ll say nothing more. You’ll spend every night at my room in the barracks and we’ll fix your little problem. You need not worry about paying me a cent.”

         Myler tried to give Albert a hug...”Mmm….let’s shake paws instead. I have sort of an aversion to intimate contact, you find me a considerable neat freak which I hope doesn’t gross you out.”

       “Well?” Myler replied. “What do you like? I can’t just not give you something for being so kind?”

        “A good cheese and chocolate wine.” Albert replied. “I absolutely detest beer. Tastes like it belongs in a sewage treatment tank.”

        “So? You guys want to go to the chow hall?” Jackson asked as he put Albert on his left shoulder and Myler on his right.

        “Good idea.” Albert said. “Say Jackson? How about we organize a small class for after school lab study? Say….yourself, another mammal and six mice?”

        “I’m up for that if you want to do it Albert.” Jackson replied.

The Belmish Banks fishing grounds
120 miles East of Sahara Square
11:18am
November 24, 2039

       The Zootopian Destroyer Gnu York ZNDG-7 out of Naval Base Sahara radioed back to headquarters that it was en route at high speed to a distress call from a fishing trawler under its’ protection. One Kzin warship was standard fare, this was out of fare...two warships reported steaming at high speed on the MV Good n Plenty, a medium fishing ship with fifteen mammals on board…

11:24am….

      The claxion to general quarters screamed over the 1MC bull horns as mammals raced to main their gunnery stations, among them the gun crew of mount eighty one, the bow 8 inch rifled mount nicknamed “Fearson’s fearsomes” after the mount captain, a small arctic fox named “Ricky Fearce” who bounded into the mount housing and took his station in the controller bubble on the mount top while his crew of rabbits and foxes took their stations below in the gun room.

      “Mount Eight One standing by!” Ricky snapped into his sound powered phone as he watched his crew suit up in head coverings and thick leather gauntlets to handle the shell and powder charges when the order came up to load the gun.

11:29am….

       Captain Selfridge, an African bull Rhino came onto the bridge as the bridge crew finished getting into their combat gear...”What’s our situation?” Selfridge asked his Executive Officer, another Bull Rhino named Epcott…

      “Captain...we have two targets closing on the MV Good N Plenty. The captain says he’s doing best speed at 26 knots but the opposing ships are closing at around 32 to 34 knots. He describes them as medium combatants, probably destroyers.”

       Selfridge snorted. “Launch a flying fox drone. Send word back to fleet headquarters and see if we have sub-surface support. Report the situation and ask for permission to engage on provision. If they fire on the MV Good N Plenty, we will return fire to draw them off or force them to retire.”

       Selfridge turned to his helmsman….”Helm hard on...increase speed to 35 knots flank.”

       “Aye Aye Sir!” The helm replied as she took the throttle stick on her controls to full open. Within minutes the ship reacted like a gray hound in the chase. The bow rising and falling with sprays of water kicking up froth as the ship dipped into the troughs between waves…

11:34am….

     Selfridge spoke into his sound powered telephone. “Spy eyes? What’s the status of those targets? Are they still chasing the Good n Plenty?”

     The Combat Information Center replied….”Spy eyes to Captain….Yes Sir! They are chasing and closing distance. Good n Plenty now at three miles. Targets beyond that at five miles and closing.”

     Selfridge turned to his boatswain...”Boatswain? Sound call to gunnery stations. Load armor piercing rounds mounts one and two, load forty millimeter mounts with anti-mammal shrapnel rounds, spin up torpedo tubes one and two on the ASROC station aft.”

       “Aye Aye Sir!” The Boatswain replied as he turned to his address speaker. “Now hear this! Now hear this! call to gunnery stations! Call to gunnery stations! Load armor piercing rounds mounts one and two, load forty millimeter mounts with anti-mammal shrapnel rounds, spin up torpedo tubes one and two on the ASROC station aft.”

11:38am….Mount Eighty One, “Fearson’s fearsomes” 

        “Alright! Chop Chop! Move, Move!” Ricky snapped as he clapped his hands to the gun crew below! “Load one round, eight inch armor piercing projectile!”

       A fox jumped to the gun breach, grasped the locking handle, gave it a twist and pull and the breach block of the gun rotated from the grooved screw like teeth at the end of the cannon and dropped downwards clear of the opening as an eight inch shell came up from the main magazine below and rested in the upraised spanner cradle at the rear of the gun house…

       A second fox pointed to the bunny sitting at the tray and ram controls and cried out….”SPAN IN!” as he gestured his hand towards the gun. The bunny at the span control worked a leaver and the folded cradle dropped forwards to cover the distance from the explosive shell to the gun’s open maw…

      “RAM HOME!” Cried the fox! The bunny took hold of the ramming handle and pushed it forwards sending the eight inch shell down the length of the cradle and into the cannon. He then retracted the rammer as the Fox was joined by another fox to gesture towards the armored door to their front. Now that door dropped open and three large bags filled with gun powder rolled onto the tray.

      As the armor door closed...the lead fox gestured to the bunny on the ram control….”RAM HOME SLOW!” and the three bags were rammed into the cannon behind the shell.

     As the loading cycle was happening...a bunny in the sitting pit below the cannon was popping a 38 caliber shell into the firing mechanism of the breach block. It was this little shell that when detonated would in turn send the 1,000 pound shell across the distance from the Gnu York to her target…

       “PRIME UP!” That bunny snapped as he quickly sat in a seat to avoid the gun should it actually be fired.

        Now the lead fox of the gun crew gestured again to the ram control Bunny...”SPAN OUT!” And the loading cradle flew back to its’ stowed position. Moments later...another 8 inch shell came up from the magazine to await its’ turn should the need call for it.

       Both Foxes jumped free of their loading stations, secured themselves by their harnesses to prevent falling into the gun pit and each turned a signal switch aside their heads from “Yellow” to “Green” which meant that mount Eighty One was loaded, primed and cocked to be fired.

      “Good speed, good speed!” Ricky snapped as he fumbled with his sound powered phone...”Mount Eighty One ready to go!” He called to the CIC.

        “Aye….mount Eighty One ready.” The CIC replied.
     
11:40 am….

       Captain Selfridge heard the responses from the weapons stations as they cried their readiness to the CIC….”Spy eyes? Status update….where’s the Good N Plenty, where’s the targets?”

      “Spy eyes to Captain….Good N Plenty now on the horizon at 1 point 5 nautical miles. Target warships now five miles and still closing distance.”

      The bridge radio mammal cried out...”Captain! Headquarters has released us for action! If they fire on the civilian ship, we are to return fire! Force them to turn about if possible.”

      Selfridge turned to his boatswain….”Order to all gunners. Stand by. Eight inch guns will fire first. One round on command, follow on rounds if required.”

      “Aye Aye Sir!” The boatswain replied as he turned to his speaker. “Attention all gunners! Attention all gunners! Stand by! Eight inch guns will fire first. One round on command, follow on rounds if required.”

11:43 am….Mount Eighty One, “Fearson’s fearsomes”

        Aries (a blue grey English Fox) turned to his partner Ludwig (A brown german field fox) and grimaced...”Oh please dear Godness...turn these stupid bastard around…..please turn them around…..please….”

       “Aries? You are making me nervous.” Ludwig said. “Would you stop your legs shaking before you start pissing in here?”

       “I’m sorry mammal….” Aries replied. “I just don’t want to die that’s all.”

       “Have confidence.” Ludwig replied. Suddenly the radio in the gun room cracked….

       “THE TARGETS HAVE FIRED ON THE CIVILIAN VESSEL! GUN MOUNTS RELEASED! OPEN FIRE!”

       “Oh…….FLUCK!” Aries screamed as the gun mount warning horn sounded three times and then the mount shook as the cannon flew back through the cradle space on the recoil shock system and returned to its’ loading position! Its’ former cargo had been unleashed across the open air to probably kill a bunch of Kzinti. Was this how war started? No time to further think about it….the loading operation started again in greater earnest as the ship heeled over under the feet of the foxes as she went into a battle turn.

End of part 10