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Starfall: Chapter 26: Measure of a Man: Part Two

He doesn’t know how long he’s been laying their, soaking the floor with his tears and mucus. Only it has been long enough the room is feeling a little warm. Not to mention long enough for Cotton to have wiggled her way out of his grasp, latching herself onto the Gray-fox’s head like a cute version of those things in that old sci-fi movie.

The sensation of it draws Gideon’s focus to the here and now and out of the recent past.

“Ya can let go of ma head anytime Cotton.” Reaching up, the portly Gray-fox gently removes the rabbit kit.

She doesn’t protest, standing still where he places her, as he shakily pushes himself up to his knees, then onto his haunches. His eyes instantly fall onto the pile of Hopps kits, all younger than cotton and all snuggled up into a single pile to share warmth. Right where he left them when his adrenaline fled him.

“Is giddy feeling better?” Cotton looks up at him. To his surprise, the look of innocence still on her face despite everything that has happened. He knows she knows, or at least can grasp a bit of what just happened to her family. Cotton’s ears after all were one of the pairs poking out of the backpack the entire time he was carrying them. She had to have heard everything.

“Ya, I’m feeling better.” He eyes the door as his ears fold back a little. His twitching tail stirs up dust bunnies, as opposed to the real ones in front of him. “You were brave in wanting to defend ya siblings, but what about you? How are ya?”

The young kit reaches up and grabs one of her ears nervously. Pulling it down and holding it in her hand-paws. “I Don’t know giddy. I feel pain, but I have no boo-boo’s. I want mommy, but I don’t know where she is, and it makes me sad.”

Gideon instantly clamps down on the movement of his ears and tail. This proves to him Cotton must’ve heard everything. Yet her young age and the stress of the situation may have caused her young mind to block it out.

‘Least she didn’t see her mother dead on the floor with her brains blown out. Can’t tell her either, last thing I need is a distraught kit with no way to calm her. Karma, at least the rest of them seem to be past weening age. One less problem to deal with.’ Putting on a smile for Cotton’s sake, Gideon pats her head.

“I’m sure ya mothers fine.” It hurts him to lie like this to a such a younging. He makes a mental note to make up for it later when she’s older. Then she can hate him all she wants for lying about the fate of her mother.

‘Hopefully she’ll understand then.’ He glances around the small room, it doesn’t seem as small as it did before Pop-Pop and Catherine bum-rushed him in here with the kits.

His ear’s lower despite himself upon realizing it, thus their sacrifice may not have been warranted. ‘They could’ve fit in here, why didn’t they try?’

“Can ya be a big kit Cotton? Can ya watch your siblings here? Giddy needs to check on some things.” The Gray Fox motions to the pile of kits. All of them asleep, considering it’s most likely still night out. Or at least that’s what it feels like to Gideon. His sense of time is all jumbled from what just happened.

“Sure!” The complement, to her, at being a big kit peps up the young rabbit doe’s mood and as soon as Gideon stands up, she moves to sit down next to the pile of her younger siblings.

Pushing the lone table in the room aside grants the gray fox access to the back of the panic room and with it the realization that it’s technically four rooms. The main area they’re in making up the majority of the square footage, then three side rooms. The first one barely big enough for two rabbits and change to sleep in hammocks. Well, if they hung them diagonally that is, with a small crib like bed on the floor.

‘Certainly not using this room ta sleep.’ Squeezing himself in, the portly Gray-Fox can barely fully stretch out his arms fully without touching opposing walls.

Backing himself out carefully, Gideon turns to look into the room opposite of the tiny bedroom. Because even if he was thin, he still wouldn’t have been able to fit inside it. Stacked from floor to ceiling, and wall to wall, are boxes filled with vacuum dried and sealed meals ready to eat and water.

‘Surplus M.R.E.’s and vacuum sealed water.’ Running a finger down the side dislodges some dust before wincing. ‘Still in date? Even after sixty-two years in the old system? How in Karma is that even possible?’

With a gulp and a wince, the gray fox turns away from this room and looks into the other. Dearly hoping they won’t be in here long enough to have to try to eat them. What greets him is a catch all room. A rabbit sized toilet on the floor, he would bet would be a dry toilet too. Despite it using a normal porcelain fixture. Around it are racks of car batteries and electrical wiring that is a bit beyond the gray fox.

In fact, if the date written on them is correct, they’re about as old as he is.

What draws Gideon’s attention next is a hacked together hvac duct system running through the entire panic room starting from here. Connected to a pipe that goes up through ceiling with a large crank just about at bunny eye level. A laminated placard dangles by an ancient string from the stained wooden handle.

Squeezing himself further in, the gray fox lifts the placard from its decades long resting place, Cleaning dust off its surface. Wiping the remaining dust on his overalls.

‘Manual air filtration system instructions.’ The Gray fox reads to himself, looking down at the chart with the amount of bunnies on one side, and the number of complete rotations of the crank on the other one needs to do.

It’s only from the years of baking that Gideon is able to calculate how many bunnies his portly hide equals plus the ten rabbit kits in here with him. It doesn’t bother him he has to use his fingers and toes to do the math for lack of any kind of scratch paper or calculator on paw. Comparing the number he comes up with to the chart, Gideon frowns.

Out of curiosity he flips the placard over, finding the instructions for using the same cranking mechanism to recharge the batteries.

‘Karma, please don’t let us be stuck in here that long…’ Bracing his foot-paws against the sides of the small room, Gideon grabs the crank with both hands and pushes. Grunting he’s able to make a single rotation and as he does so, his ears pin back at the squealing of metal against metal echoing into the room from the pipe. Aged and unmaintained gears, chains, and impellers force air though multiple filters. Coming out of the vents cold, stale, but clean and without a trace of smoke to his nose.

A good sign that’s outweighed in the portly fox’s mind by the task ahead of him.

‘And I gotta do this twenty-nine more times in the new system, then another thirty every hour. Just so none of us suffocate! I said it before, and I’ll say it again. Karma if ya deem me worthy ta get out of this, you know how much I’ve been trying to balance my soul. I’ll get myself as thin as Judy’s husband if ya deem me worthy of surviving tonight.’

After the fifth rotation, Gideon builds a rhythm in cranking the lever. Filling the room with stale, but less dusty air. Though by the sixth, he’s already freely panting from this level of excursion on top of what he did karma knows how long ago. Forcing himself to keep going, his arms to move by sheer will alone til he’s a hand-paw’s amount away from finishing for the next hour.

A pained eep from Cotton hits the gray fox’s ears, freezing him in place. Before Gideon even realizes he’s moving, he’s dashed back in the main room of the shelter. The young bunny protectively in his arm’s as he’s looking her over, fearing of an injury that he wouldn’t be able to treat.

He didn’t see a first aid box in here, though with his luck it’s most likely buried behind all the impossibly preserved ‘food’.

“Giddy, the door’s hot…” Cotton squeaks as she holds one hand-paw in the other. Like if holding the extremity closer and tighter would help with the pain she’s feeling.

Parting the fur and looking at cotton’s finger’s Gideon finally relaxes. Seeing reddened skin, but no blisters.‘Barely a first degree burn. That’s… Both good and bad.’ Gently patting the young rabbit doe on the head, he places her down onto her feet.

Closing the few foot gap between them and the main entrance, he stares at the metal door and lever that serves as a door handle.

Licking one of his hand-paw pads he hesitantly reaches for said lever. Not something he does to check to see if something is hot while baking for customers, he uses one of those newfangled heat camera’s on his phone for that…

‘Of course, my phone!’ He nearly Face-paws at the fact he forgot about it.

Reaching into his overall’s he pulls out his phone. Upon sight of it, he literally bites his tongue, hard. Not enough to draw blood, but still enough to be painful. All to keep him from cursing Karma’s name because he just literally begged her not to long ago about getting out of this alive.

Dropping the now useless piece of modern technology onto the floor, he sees the small caliber round lodged in it. Piercing the screen and bulging the back as it was stopped by the battery, the force of the hit bending the whole device in half.

Licking a paw pad again, Gideon wonders why he didn’t feel it. It would explain his sore abdomen though, and not over exertion. Putting that thought aside, he slowly moves his finger closer to the lever. Yanking his hand-paw back upon contact as the spittle left behind sizzles and evaporates on the stainless steel. He uses his other hand-paw to check how hot the door is, not hot enough to burn, but uncomfortable to touch.

‘Is tha lever directly connected to tha thing Pop-Pop used to open this? Would explain why tha handle’s hotter than tha door. Pop-Pop wasn’t kidding though when he said that they could burn tha entire place down and any-mammal in here would be fine.’

Cautiously backing away from the door, Gideon turns and looks over at Cotton. Smiling, he kneels down and pats her head between her ears. Just to make sure she thinks things will be alright, when he’s starting to doubt it himself.

“We’re gonna be just fine. Just, don’t touch the door, okay?” Standing back up, he watches Cotton nod.

She’s smart enough to know something’s not right, but if a nice adult like giddy says it will be fine, she’ll trust him. Ignoring what her teacher said that a hot door-handle means fire and fire’s bad.

Yawning, she blinks a few times to try to stay awake. Only to find that Gideon’s picked her up and placed her with her siblings. Between one blink and the next, the younger rabbits instantly shifting to make room in the pile for their older sibling, and before cotton knows it, she’s out like a light, sleeping with them.

Letting out a sigh, Gideon turns his attention to the only other thing here he hasn’t examined yet. The CB-radio.

Sitting undisturbed for years thus, building a blanket of dust over it. It sits on a small shelf built into the wall at about table height for a rabbit. Pushing aside the rabbit sized chair, the portly Gray Fox sits and does his best attempt at the cross-legged position as he can, considering his weight. All so the shelf is at a comfortable height for him.

‘We can’t stay down here forever. The food and water ain’t going to last us, and neither will I. Don’t know how long I can operate that crank every hour ta keep us from suffocating AND find time ta sleep.’

Picking up the wire and cup style headset, Gideon adjusts the headband to its limit. Causing ancient iguana leather of the cushioning to crack and flake off into his fur. Even at its widest setting, it audibly strains to fit his head compared to the smaller rabbit head it was designed for. Moving the mic down next to his muzzle, Gideon stares at the radio box in front of him.

‘Never used one of these things, only seen others talk on them in movies. It has ta have a normal power button, right?’

He slides his claw tip across the rows of buttons, switches, and dials, then stops at one of the few labeled buttons he can see.

‘It’s labeled power, so this must turn it on.’ Gideon presses it.

The click of relays, and the hum of power being dumped into vacuum tubes assault his as ancient electronics start to glow inside the box.

Panicked that the noise could’ve woken the surviving Hopps kits, he twists around, looking to the pile that are all that’s left of the once mighty Hopps clan. Minus those not present for the holiday’s or those kicked out for nearly attacking Nick over his wedding to Judy.

Only to see them still deep asleep, piled and intertwined with one another. ‘Boy was that a sight ta see. Adult rabbits throwing a temper-tantrum over a fox joining the family but not a fox catering the wedding.’

Relaxing, he turns his attention back to the dim glow of the vacuum tube powered machine. Seeming to have warmed up fully as he was looking at the kits.

What was a darkened display, is lit up by the flickering light of the internal ancient electronics showing what frequency it’s set to. Stenciled cutouts above buttons and switches have their names backlit in the same manner. All for adjustments of the device that are past Gideon's understanding, so he leaves them alone.

Focusing his attention on one of the two he understands, ‘channel’, with the other being ‘volume’.

Unknowingly for him, Pop-pop kept the system set for the longest possible range after the family put up a radio tower disguised as a tree on the property.

‘Well, at least it’s in tha old system, that I understand better. Not this newfangled base ten stuff! Still getting a hang on that.’

Pinching what looks like the main dial, between two claw tips. For it’s right next to the stripe and needle frequency indicator. Gideon slowly turns it. With some resistance, then a click, the earphones crackle to life blasting static loudly into his ears.

Letting go, he grabs the one labeled volume. Turning it down to a tolerable amount.

‘These things sound like they’re on their last legs. I Should be glad they at least work!’ Returning to the frequency dial, Gideon slowly moves the needle across the strip. Static or noise assault his ears for the first few lines on the strip representing distinct channels.

By the third one he starts to wonder if the antenna still works, til he hits upon a clear channel on the fifth tick. His other hand-paw eagerly presses down on the large button labeled ‘talk’ in front of the set.

“Hello, is…”

A sudden short burst of noise cuts Gideon off, followed by a small feline female mammal voice with a tinge of annoyance as she yells into her mic attached to her flight helmet.

“This is New Reynard’s emergency back-up flight control channel sir. Please whomever you are keep it clear, so we can help those in need.” The noise of rotor wash is ever present in the background as the mammal speaks threatens to overwhelm the sound of her voice but never does.

She just yells louder to overcome it.

‘New Reynard?’ Gideon blinks. ‘That’s nearly as far as Bunny-Burrow is from Zootopia, just north instead of east! How much reach does this have! I thought they had shorter range than this?’

Gideon’s hand-paw reaches for the dial again hoping to find someone closer, and more willing to help. Only to freeze when a more pleasant female lupine’s voice replaces the annoyed female feline’s on the line.

“Unless you’re in need of assistance sir. We understand the cell and land-line networks throughout the state are down and this may be your only way to call for emergency services. If we are close enough, maybe we can help?’

Moving his hand-paw back to the talk button, Gideon presses it.

“I’ma, um… nowhere near New Reynard Ma’am. My name’s Gideon Gray and um, we’re kinda trapped in an old panic room in Bunny-Burrow.” Easing his finger off the talk button. Uncomfortable seconds drag on as he waits for this lupine’s reply.

Part of him thinking she’ll just choose not to. After all, as the crow flies they’re about three hundred miles apart if not more.

On the other end of the channel, an exhausted Wolfess swivel’s her wheelchair around to face a melanistic Jackal. Handing him a green pin, the equally exhausted Jackal turns to a hastily set up cork-board. Set up with a detailed map of the entire state of Camelfornia on one half, and a detailed map of Zootopia on the other.

The side of the map showing the entire state has a set of concentric rings drawn and cross-hatched by colored sharpies. Centered on New Reynard, the smallest one’s colored green.

Representing helicopter transport distance and the low need to refuel for any trip inside it.

Multiple push pins are in this circle; some green, some yellow, some red, the rest are black pins in a black shaded area indicating where the nearest national guard complex is. Marking out a no-fly zone for their helicopters.

The next ring is yellow, indicating the need of their birds to refuel after the return trip. A good portion of Zootopia sits in this circle. Black pins and black shaded areas dominate the Zootopia side of the map with a lot of yellow and red pins. Only a smattering of a few green pins give the two hope of friendly mammals left in the city.

The black Jackal’s hand-paw travels even further. Past the orange line indicating a need to refuel ‘somewhere’ on the way back to fully complete a round trip. Up to the edge of the red ‘must refuel when you arrive’ line. A line they have no intention of sending ‘anyone’ near to tonight since the only safe refueling area they know of, is their own field.

He looks back at the wolfess with the unspoken but obvious question on his muzzle.

“Mr. Gray.” She breaks the silence Gideon took as a signal to move on to another channel, his hand-paw already hovering over the dial to do so.

“My name is Sonja Bay, you said ‘we’, who else is in their with you and how many? Where in Bunny-Burrow are you located exactly?”

The gray fox glances over to the pile of sleeping bunnies, then presses the talk button. “Eleven mammals, Ten remaining kits from tha Hopps Family, and me. We’re um… We’re in an old panic room, sealed off from tha now burning Hopps compound. After tha National Guard for tha State came in and…”

Gideon’s ears fall and his tail tries to curl up between his legs as even saying the words brings up the memories of the mad dash to get here. The last of the adults Hopps clan, minus Judy and whoever wasn’t present at the time. Sacrificing themselves to get him and the kits to safety.

“Killed everyone. Other than Judy and maybe some disowned kits, they’re all that’s left…”

Sonja hands the black Jackal ten more green pins, and he in turn, sticks them on the map where it says ‘Hopps family Farm INC.’ before taking a black sharpie and cross-hatching out the property. Both him and Bay know from the pattern so far emerging tonight. The area will still have the lackey national guard about and thus, a risk that any attempt of rescue ‘will’ result in a loss of a pilot.

Something they cannot afford with only two pilots and two birds. One of both being functional right now.

Taking the head-set with her, the wolfess rolls her wheelchair closer to the window of their trailer / dispatch center, to look out at the airfield.

Every square inch not needed for chopper landing and refueling. Is taken up by tents, lean-too’s and barrel fires. All to shelter and warm the hundreds of fleeing or injured mammals from this ‘revolution’ the governor’s pulled tonight. On top of that, the near loss of their rookie todd pilot and their vixen mechanic, has hit their efforts, hard. The chopper occupies a portion of the field that could be used to help more mammals.

With the help of Mac, they’re trying to patch it up and get it flying. A group of the Stallhoof loyalist national guard shot it up while evac’ing a school. All because said school had steadfastly refused the education reforms in the past few years sweeping the state, citing rightly, parental choice. As a result they were targeted as dissidents in this revolution by the deer.

If it wasn’t for the school radio club sending out a cry for help after they found both cell and land-lines down, the national guard would’ve slaughtered the nocturnal-mammal night class.

Still, wiping out the Hopps clan, holy Luna. Hundreds of lives down to only a pawful? The gnawing doubt’s they’ll survive the night let along the next few days mount in Sonja’s mind as she continues to gaze out the window. Their security guard may be of a different stock than she expected, but even he is mortal and has his limits.

He and the volunteers he rustled can only last so long against a fully armed force like the national guard.

The wolfess reaches up and taps the talk button on her head-set. “I’m sorry Mr. Gray, from what you just told me, we can’t evac you and the kits. We don’t have the resources to take out such a large structure fire so far from us. If we did, we’d still have to deal with the presence of hostile national guard. We almost lost one of our limited number of pilots and birds to this new regime’s forces and there are a lot more mammals closer than you in more dire straights.”

This is not the first time tonight she has had to do this, but it hurts every time bay does it. She can even see the pain on her partner, the melanistic jackal that has at least lived up to the legends of his people, at least when it comes to her heart.

Said Jackal puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Both for his own sake and hers.

“You mentioned you’re trapped in a panic room. If you’re safe from the fire right now, then you might be safe till it goes out on its own depending on a couple of things. As long as you don’t try to open the door.”

Gideon stifles a half formed curse in his mind, a reflex, and a lesson from his therapy to not let his anger get the best of him. He knew it was a long shot when they said they’re at New Reynard. So he has no reason to get angry at Ms. Bay for refusing help.

“How long do ya think that’ll take Ms. Bay?”

He doesn’t hide the disappointment in his voice. Causing the Sonja to visibly wince, feeling like she’s just committed him and the kits to death by her own hand-paws. As much as one would if you left them in a burning building rather than losing them ‘and’ you as a firefighter.

Bay does some quick mental calculations based on the shows she’s seen of the now ‘famous kit-hood home of Judy Hopps’.

‘Luna, the fire could burn for days, and it’s most likely grown since the documentary a couple of years ago.’

“Mr. Gray, how is the bunker holding up? What kind of supplies do you have on paw?.”

Gideon may not be the sharpest knife in the kitchen, but he can read between the lines as much as the next mammal. To him what Ms. Bay just said was they’d be trapped in here for a ‘long’ time.

“It’s a little warm in here and the main door is hot ta tha touch. We have several days worth of ancient vacuum sealed food and water, so we’re not gonna starve. Electricity’s from some batteries that are as old as I am. And I have ta crank some kinda manual air circulation thingy thirty times every hour, or we suffocate!”

Gideon’s words ease the burden on Bay. She still feels like she may have a bit of his blood still on her hand-paws, yet her logical part of her brain, and firefighter’s training tells her otherwise. He’s certainly safer than other mammals they’ve got into contact with tonight.

He may even have a better chance at surviving the next few days than they have! Still, there are two things she needs to find out. Just so her mind can rest at ease she’s not committing him to death for not even trying to rescue him, let alone the rabbit kits.

What kind of mammal would she be if she left kits to die like that without even trying?

“How hot do you mean by ‘hot to the touch’ and what is the temperature of the air coming out of this filter system you have to manually operate Mr. Gray?”

She hopes against hope and prays to the great wolf Luna, and the trickster fox Karma too for the Gideon’s sake if she’s looking after him. All so that he’ll say cold air instead of warm air. He and the remaining Hopps kits will have a slow death of being roasted alive otherwise.

Sonja Bay eyes the dwindling supply of red and black pins on her station. Loathing having to put more ‘life-threatening injury’ and ‘dead’ markers on the map tonight. Too many have died tonight and it’s weighing on her concsious.

Gideon glances to the door, then back to the CB radio. “Hot enough ta give first degree burns and ta sizzle spittle. I’d be constantly panting right now if tha air that tha crank system spews out wasn’t cold as it is outside tonight.”

Sonja lets out a breath of air she was holding. “Good. That means you’re safe. Just add a few extra cranks to the thirty you have to do if you feel you need to lower the temperature to one more comfortable level. It sounds like you’re safe enough for several days Mr. Gideon, if neither of us can get a hold of Bunny-Burrow’s S.A.R. in the next few days we’ll arrange for one of our pilots to try to get to you.”

“Sorry for bothering ya Ma’am, though it’s a relief to at least hear from a friendly mammal tonight.” With that, Gideon moves the dial, taking the CB radio off the channel.

Causing him to miss the conversation between Sonja Bay and Jessica Clawsdale, the latter of which being the pilot who cut him off earlier.

The feline, as recompense to her rudeness. Volunteers to be the pilot who, if they survive the night and however long it takes for the fire trapping the gray fox in the panic room to die down. To fly over to Bunny Burrow and grab him after checking the condition of the S.A.R. station there. Even after Bay agrees she still curses herself out for cutting someone off trying to save kits.

Gideon brings a hand-paw up to the bridge of his muzzle and sighs. ‘Don’t know tha channel for the Bunny-Burrow S.A.R. Guess I’ll just have ta keep looking. Eventually I’ll find it, I think, I hope. There’s gotta be someone that can help us.’

He dusts off some more flaking iguana leather from his head, before pinching the channel dial. Continuing the slow trek across the strip and thus the channels. More static meets his ears, a weird station calling out numbers in a repeating loop comes next. The voice doesn’t sound natural to his ears, but he’s too spooked to continue listening.

Before reaching a station with someone speaking, a voice he knows even though the Gideon’s never met her in person.

A vixen’s voice, the voice of Nick Wilde’s mother, Marion. Gideon’s heard it more than once on the news via multiple interviews over the whole bellwether incident. Who hasn’t really? It’s all the media was talking about for well over a year.

“I repeat, to anyone listening. Police and Camalfornia national guard are hostile! Do not approach, do not talk to them. If you see them, go the other way or hide. They have orders from the new regime to execute mammals in the street. I don’t know the rhyme or reason as to why, but from what I can gather from survivors, they’re targeting well-to-do mammals. If you can hear this, your best bet for survival is either to get OUT of the city, or hole up with friends and neighbors till someone can find you.”

As Marion Wilde takes a few breaths, Gideon can hear in the background gunfire. The sounds of mammal’s both moaning in pain and fighting as well as the constant drone of a generator providing a steady beat to the noise. Like some sick version of a song on the radio.

Again he’s reminded of the war zone the Hopps compound became and hearing the same noises again further hardens his resolve to never have to experience it in the future.

With renewed vigor after catching her breath, Marion continues. “New Reynard S.A.R. is friendly and has made a couple of rescue flights already. If you see their birds in the air, try to signal them if you are in need. If you cannot do so, Zootopia General-Meadowlands and Pack Street in Happy Town as of fifteen minutes ago on my last check in, are still safe and protected from the regime thugs. Or if you cannot reach them, come to…”

Marion lists off their address. The moment she and Johnathan saw the black clad mammals killing store owners and renters, then looting the buildings. They gathered everyone they could from the neighboring businesses and store top apartments into their tailor shop / home.

In the hours since they’ve turned it and the few buildings surrounding it into a fortress of boarded up windows and rooftop gunners. Not long after the police and the camalfornia national guard arrived, mowing down the black clad mammal’s. Did those groups pick up where the black clad mammals left off.

She doesn’t know how long they’ll last in here. This new regime seems to have bigger fish to fry compared to them. Yet Marion has no illusions about their safety, and eventually their number will come up.

The old vixen looks up and pins her ears back against her head. Her, other, her Johnathan is up on the roof. Along with any other mammal who’s armed and can shoot, while she’s down here mammaling their cb radio and taking care of the wounded who arrive in hopes of safety and a helping hand-paw. A life-line for the mammals of the city tearing itself apart literally after the figurative during the height of the bellwether craze.

‘Never thought I would prefer those days before my son and my daughter-in-law took down the crazy sheep.’

Putting down the receiver, Marion moves the few feet from the table to the nearest makeshift bed she set up. Their newest arrival, a rabbit buck. Dragged in on the back of a poor young fox with a ‘feral’ joint disorder. Badly injured, Marion’s done all she can to stabilize him despite the pleading from the young fox todd to make him better.

Said todd also has injuries, but compared to the buck’s stab wounds, gashes, broken bones and bruises. He’s practically intact. So the buck gets a share of what little medical supplies they have, compared to the todd just getting his scrapes and cuts cleaned out with clean water.

‘Can’t spare the mammal power to get him to Zootopia General in the Meadowlands, not to mention they most likely won’t make it. New Reynard nearly lost a bird sending someone up here to retrieve him. So yea, they’re not going to try again.’ She checks her hasty stitches, changes some of his bandages as the rabbit has bled through them, then forces the poor buck to drink some water.

“Keep drinking!” She yells at the buck in a stern motherly voice.

“You need the fluids to help your body replace all the blood you lost.” Looking to the todd who brought the rabbit buck in, she smiles softly. “Make sure he drinks the whole glass.” The young vulpine nods and takes Marion’s place in nearly forcing the buck to drink a full glass.

Moving to check on some of their other injured, the sound of an unknown voice speaking up on the CB-radio has her dashing on her foot-paws for the receiver to see who it is.

“Ms. Wilde, this is Gideon Gray. Can, ya hear me?”

Glancing at the channel, Marion marks it down on scrap paper before picking up the receiver and pressing the talk button on the side of it. “I don’t recognize your voice, but your name kind of rings a bell for me. Where are you located Mr. Gray? Do you need help or can you provide help to others? The city needs every friendly mammal they can get.”

Sighing, Gideon replies. “I’ma sure your son, or your daughter-in-law must’ve mentioned me at least once or twice ma’am.”

It clicks in the older vixen’s mind, her ears raising up as she chastises herself for not recognizing the name sooner.

“You’re ‘that’ Gideon Gray. The one who was the kit-hood bully to Judy and the baker of those muffins her and my son came home with last time he and my daughter-in-law visited her family.”

‘I nearly gained three pounds from eating them.’ Marion muses.

‘So that’s why they bought over a dozen, here I thought Nick was such a glutton for my blueberry muffins… Please let my bakery and apartment above it be okay… It’s all I have.’

“Tha one and tha same Ms. Wilde. Though to answer your questions, ya I am in need of help, but no one will be able to reach me till tha fire dies down. Otherwise, ya I’d help who I can.”

Tilting an ear, Marion stands there confused. She knows she’s missing something because Gideon seems to be able to string enough words together to not be dumb enough to stay in a burning building. “Why are you hiding in a structure on fire Mr. Gray?”

On his end, Gideon lowers his ears and looks at the bunny kits. “Uh, long story Ms. Wilde, don’t worry, I’m safe along with the remaining Hopp’s kits. Speaking of which, can ya tell me if Judy is nearby? There’s ah, something she needs to know. Best she hears it from a friend really.”

Remaining Hopps kits? Marion’s tilts her other ear as this adds to her confusion. “Uh, no, neither Judy nor my son are here. My daughter hasn’t even returned from her date with the Human as well.”

A part of her greatly worries about Nick and Judy’s safety, she knows they wouldn’t follow whatever orders the new regime has given the police to act like they have. What she doesn’t know is how their coworkers and new ‘boss’ will treat them.

“I have no idea where they are. Nor can I reach them because cell service is down, no one else I’ve been able to get into contact with have seen them. What does she need to know, and why did you say remaining Hopp’s kits? Did something happen to her family Mr. Gray?”

The elder Vixen idly worriers while she waits for Gideon’s reply that Vivian didn’t jump in on the ‘protests’ that those black clad mammals were doing after her date with the human. Marion’s seen her hang out with a few of them, if she has. Oh, a talking to will be the least of what she’ll do to her daughter.

If no other mammal has hurt her.

Gideon sighs, wishing he had a stiffer drink than the vacuum sealed water in front of him. Taking a deep breath the Gray Fox yet again walks through the events of just hours earlier, This time for Marion.

Either it’s too soon, or what his therapist said about talking to someone about a trauma only works on small things. Because recounting it, yet again, hits him just as hard as it did earlier, and just as hard as living through it.

‘The entire Hopp’s family gone outside a paw full of kits, dead?’ Marion mouths silently, renewed worry about the safety of her children, both biological and the daughter-in-law by marriage runs through her mind.

“I… Don’t know how to tell her that if I get into contact with her Gideon… I don’t think ‘anyone’ would know how to tell anyone else that! My son’s told me officers go into therapy for years over seeing the effects of telling another mammal some part of their family’s died…”

“I don’t know either Marion! But Judy’s gotta know about it. Better ta hear it from family or a friend rather than some stranger… If we all get outa this pickle we’re in.” The Gideon sighs. Frankly, he’s about ready to give up. Of the two mammals he’s been able to reach, neither of them are close enough nor able to help him out of this predicament he’s in.

“What about tha Guard from outa state Ms. Wilde? Or the Army? Would the Federals really let us hang out ta dry like this? We pay our taxes afta all.”

Marion glances to their television, one of the few other things connected to their generator along with a few lights and the CB radio she’s on. “Just sitting there, Waiting across the border just outside Camelfornia for some reason. The Camalfornia national guard isn’t even opposing them. So I have no clue as to why they seem so hesitant to move in and stop all this!”

‘If I could get into contact with them, oh would I ever give them a piece of my mind about being such cowards. Good mammals are dying as they’re sitting on their tails doing nothing!’ The older Vixen grumbles to herself.

Rubbing his eyes, Gideon sighs. Realizing what happened here must’ve happened throughout the state if that’s the case. He wonders if it will actually be safe for them to leave the panic room once the fire dies down. After all, wouldn’t the remaining Hopp’s kits have a similar target on their back as the rest of their family?

Glancing over at the fur pile of rabbit kits, he watches as they lightly squirm about. Those on the outside of the pile moving inwards and those inside get moved outwards.

‘I’ll try ta raise them right like you wanted Pop-pop. If my van’s still working, maybe I can get us past tha border to a safer state. It’s only a few hundred more miles east of here, till then… Hm, Ms. Wilde’s raised rowdy kits before.’

“Ms. Wilde, there’s something ya can do for me even if ya can’t help me get outta here. Of tha ten kits in here, only one of them is old enough ta be talked to, Cotton. Every other kit is at least past weening age but not even a year old. I… Don’t know how ta take care of such youngings, let alone keep them entertained. If what the New Reynard S.A.R. lady said was true, we’ll be in here for a few days. Gonna need some advice on how ta take care of them, in between trying ta take short naps and cranking tha system in here, so we don’t suffocate.”

Hearing her husband descending from the roof, Marion waves him over to fill him in as she listens to Gideon’s pleading request. Johnathan’s ears and tail sag at the news, not what he wanted to hear during a needed break. A lul of actively dissuading mammals from looting or attacking.

Marion ignores the stench of gunpowder on her mate, hugging him with one arm as she presses the talk button.

“I can give you some advice from raising Nick and Viv, as much as that would help. I’ll note down this channel, so I can keep an eye on it to get into contact with you. You can always try to get into contact with me if you need someone to talk to.”

She leaves the words ‘if we’re still here’ hanging as she fully expects them having to either evacuate, or have a last stand against the new regime. Either way, she goes on giving the gray fox advice on how to take care of kits. Entertain them, and keep them calm. Everything so he doesn’t go crazy before he can exit the panic room he’s in.

---

Back at the warehouse.

---

Sitting next to Bogo in a tiny chair on top of the table, the elderly arctic shrew looks up at the water buffalo, then to the erstwhile todd, formerly in his employ long ago. Sitting basically next to a disheveled uniform wearing tigress across from him.

Fru-Fru, has at least gotten the namesake of his granddaughter to calm down to a barely simmering rage as she sits next to Nick on the same chair. So she’s no longer wanting to kill the Fennec Fox sitting on the other side of the tigress from her despite both polar bears standing behind Fangmeyer. Eyeing the stronger than they would think rabbit just in case she would try something.

Grievous bodily harm though is still on the table for Finnick in Judy’s opinion, and the look on her muzzle says at much. Speaking of tables, as this goes on Mark outlines out his plan on infiltrating the mayor / governor's building, then taking out Stallhoof using it and various clips of ammo and grenades as props.

Multitasking as he speaks, Mark examines the firearms and gear from the gaylord sitting next to the table. All the while keeping an eye on cctv footage of Stallhoofs office via the hud on his visor. He needed to know if Vivian was still alive, still it took him a few minutes to get into that cctv camera.

“Let me get this straight.” Standing up on the chair as he speaks, Nick interrupts the Human “We’re going to detonate explosives near the building to act as a distraction. You’ll either enter via the ground-floor or first floor with that.”

Pointing to the grappling hook that was buried in with the rest of the firearms. A barely working one according to Mark. Nick’s not seen one wolf to bear size before.

“From there you’ll, and I am using your words here. ‘Use their own expectations against them’ to get up to the floor he’s on and then take Stallhoof out as well as rescuing my sister.”

Considering Vivian’s life rests on this plan. Nick lets his ears and tail show the displeasure he has at the poorly thought out structure of the plan, if the rest of his body language wasn’t clue enough on the situation to everyone else watching.

Putting down an old but usable smoke grenade that he plans on using, Mark glares back at Nick.

“No plan, no matter how well-made, no matter how much you know about them. Never survives contact with the enemy. I paid good money to be trained by the best and that was what they taught me. Instead of making a grandiose plan. Trying to take into account every little possibility based off information you may or may not have. He taught me to make simple objectives with simple guidelines to complete, working out the ‘how’ based on the situation in front of you. You’ll be ‘reacting’ and not ‘acting’ otherwise, giving the tide of battle to the enemy thus victory.”

The look on the vulpine’s muzzle and body says it all to the human. So Mark takes off the gas mask and visor part of his helmet, so he can look at him at the others eye to eye. Unknowingly making himself miss the part of the video feed where Stallhoof takes out the night-howler gun and the modified version of his other plasma stunner.

Moving grenade canisters and ammo clips to the side, ready to used. He places his tablet down and unrolls it in the now open space. “Case in point.” Tapping the screen to play the bit Stallhoof talks about the ‘blowing the climate wall reactors’, stopping playback shortly after.

‘Nick doesn’t need to see how Stallhoof treated his sister. Nor should they see how crazy this ‘Skye’ is. They’re distractions to the more important problems facing us now.

“Our objectives have changed because of this. Now we must first neutralize this trump card of Stallhoof’s, so the army can come in and do their job. Second, recover Vivian. Third take out Stallhoof.”

He glares at Mr. Big and Bogo to cut off any protest of theirs that he figures they’d raise over the wording and position. “The list is not in one of priority, but of most pressing ‘need’ from my point of view. If he blows the reactors, pretty much the entire regional area is lost. You don’t have the radiation clean-up tech my people have back home.”

‘Because of if it was listed by priority, I’d put Vivian first.’

Among the chatter this raises, Mark cannot help hearing Judy mutter something about how crazy the situation is. His gaze moves to Fangmeyer and Finnick only be drawn back to the Rabbit doe as she stands up now too. With a presence of voice in stark contrast to how high and squeaky it is, as well as compared to the voice actress in the animation, Judy silences everyone.

‘I’ll probably never get used to their actual voices…’ Mark muses.

“Even if he’s more insane than Bellwether, this doesn’t give you the right to go in their guns blazing like a mad-mammal Mark. Can’t you just, disable the reactors with your tablet from here like how you jailbroke our game console back in the town-home? Then we can just pretend to be delivering you and the tablet to him as a peace offering, only to cuff him at the last moment? It’s a much simpler, safer, and less causality filled plan.”

The denial and pleading tone of the rabbit doe’s voice elicits various reactions among those present as Mark glances their way. Most of them silently look away, except for Bogo, who lets out a long and loud sigh.

And Fru-Fru, who nods. “Enough mammals have died tonight, we need to do something nonviolent to stop this.”

This just adds to what Mark could tell from the moment Judy and the others showed up, something shattered her naive view of the world. She was only in the anger stage of coping and grief earlier. This suggestion of hers places her squarely in the denial and bargaining stage now.

The worst one to be in at such a time critical moment outside of depression.

‘Her worldview lacks the ability to take into consideration there are people, or mammals ‘just’ that bad. Who can’t be reasoned with, and won’t simply ‘give up’ when caught.’ Mark muses as he looks to Nick, returning his gaze. He knows that Nick knows there are mammals like that.

What he doesn’t know is that the vulpine is torn between two ideologies, until it shows on his muzzle despite his best efforts to hide it. Nick wants to agree with his mate. Simply because she’s become a valuable counterweight to his cynicism. Except he’s recently seen Judy’s worldview unable accept things that he learned at a young age, and it’s clouding her judgement in his eyes.

The world can be an unfair place, a bit too unfair sometimes. And you can’t do much about it either. Nick will also admit, compared to his ‘might as well take it, but not let them see they got to you’ worldview from a few years ago. He thinks it’s now a good idea to try to help make things better, even if it appears to be a futile effort on your part.

On the other paw though, he knows Mark has a point here. So he’s racking his brain for ‘anything’, trying to think of a way to thread the needle and calm Judy down while making her see he’s right. It doesn’t escape him, that this entire situation is what the human prophetically warned him about. A wall, put in Judy’s life, that despite her sheer tenacity at defying obstacles put in her way. The rabbit doe cannot get around and make reality conform to her will.

Nick resolves be there for Judy, even if in the process she doesn’t want to be there for him anymore.

With that in mind, Nick moves in their shared seat to try and gently take Judy by the shoulders and guide her off the chair. All so they could go talk in private, so he can calm her down without others riling her up. Only to have the doe instantly knock his hand-paws off of her shoulders dismissively and with emotionally clouded eyes.

Next to the look of utter defeat that he’s seen in her eyes in photo’s after their spat at the now infamous press conference. It’s the second most look he wishes to never see again in her eyes if he can help it.

“Nick, stop it! We need to come to a plan together, not just follow someone’s plan because it sounds good. Besides, I know you’ll side with Mark anyway, and I’ve yet to hear everyone else’s input on the matter.” Her desperate emotional state, turning to look at Bogo and Mr. Big. Makes her miss the look of emotional hurt on Nick’s muzzle that she just caused in her bid to keep her worldview alive.

This outright dismissal pains Nick as much as the time she grabbed for the ‘fox-away’, yet he refuses to move from this spot next to Judy. Through the pain he hopes that the bunny he loves didn’t really mean it.

The slipping of his emotional mask also doesn’t go unnoticed by Fangmeyer. She puts a reassuring hand-paw on the vulpine’s shoulder. Showing her support to a friend she wouldn’t have had if she didn’t get rid of her preconceptions about foxes at the behest of the doe next to him. Or Bogo, who lets out yet another sigh at the emotional shit-show in front of him.

Mr. Big, Fru-Fru, Fennick, and the polar bears, look at each other. Not knowing what to say and waiting for someone else to do so.

‘Yea, I’ve lost control of the conversation. We don’t have time for debate despite what Judy wishes.’ Walking over to one of the ground level garage doors. Mark yanks down on the manual open rope, causing it to open via a set of rope and pulleys designed to allow smaller mammals open the large door.

Fully open, he casually heads for the ambulance before maneuvering it into the warehouse. ‘Best option we have. The limo would catch too much attention, and I don’t think Mr. Big would let me use it as the conveyor of the explosives.’

‘While they’re wasting time with Judy, trying to reason with her when she’s in an unreasonable state. I can at least get the explosives rigged up.’ Sighing to himself as the thought makes him feel cold and emotionless over the rabbit doe’s mental state. Something he doesn’t really want to be, but knows this isn’t the time for out of control emotions.

Looking back at the group, his gaze softens as he sees Nick try to calm Judy down and the others trying to talk some sense into her over the matter.

‘Not that I don’t understand what she’s going through.’ His thoughts drift back to Pippin, and the events that got him disowned. Setting him on the path here.

‘We just can’t waste time, the sooner we do this the easier it will be to take the bastard out, and save Vivian.’

“No offense Judy.” The tigress looks at her friend, sympathy plastered all over her muzzle. Her ears and tail lowered are lowered to show a lack of aggression. Fangmeyer hopes Judy doesn’t take this the wrong way.

“That’s not a good plan if I’m being honest. Considering what’s going on outside, I think we may be past the time simply talking. Let alone some simple trick, like how you and Nick took got Bellwether to confess.”

Looking at the tigress Finnick resists the urge to nod, having enough self awareness to physically hold his own muzzle shut over Judy’s naive and kittish plan.

‘Ya Stallhoof has a full-paw of cards right now, while we only got a couple to our name. One of them is tha joker right here, she’s looking right at me as if she’s ‘daring’ me ta say something. Then again, I didn’t know betta, I would take tha bait.’

The desert fox shakes his head, deciding his time will be better spent bettering their chances.

Slipping off of the chair, he joins Mark in dragging or tossing out anything that isn’t bolted down out of the back of the ambulance, as well as some things that are.

The only things the human treats with respect is what the EMT specifically points out they need to care for Wolfard. As for everything else? Finnick realizes upon seeing the bricks of c-four, it’s to make room for the explosives.

Seeing this, he takes a detour to get his baseball-bat. All the while he tilts an ear to keep track of the mentally cracking bunny and every other mammal at the table.

“Bellwether appeared to be at that point too when Nick and I caught her in the museum, yet we got her by switching out the night-howller pellets with blueberries. Then I recorded her own words on my carrot pen.” With a smile the rabbit doe acts like she threw down the perfect counter. Even if she’s ignoring the hours long shootout between bellwether, her goons, and the police once Bogo showed up and chased them further into the museum.

Judy’s still angry over the place trying to sue her for the damages during the Bellwether trial.

‘Yet that Fox mate of hers would say ‘my’ behind was big…’ Bogo glares down at the rabbit doe, in his firm but very slight sympathetic manner he’s used more than once on her and / or Nick.

‘Idealistic officers normally go through a romantic period when they’re hired. A few months, to a year or there-a-bouts before reality sets in for them. Normally coming to terms with reality like this should be hashed out with the state psychotherapist on staff, after I make it clear to them, it’s a mandatory visit. Wilde’s too street smart and savvy to have gone through this, which was a godsend for what’s left of my health that I didn’t know about. I shudder at what pranks he would’ve pulled on me if he did. Hopps on the other hoof, this should’ve happened sooner and with a LOT less on the line if it wasn’t for whatever curse she and Wilde are under to attract situations such as this. Because said curse seems to have kept her isolated from reality, or fed her own view. Til now.’

“Officer Hopps!” The water buffalo puts his well-worn tone of voice back into play from long tenure as police chief to grab Judy’s attention.

“What is the protocol for dealing with a lethally armed subject who has demonstrated intent to use ‘and’ has fellow officers in his cross-hairs.” He hopes this is enough to help her see reason, after all, she’s been laser focused on police rules and reg’s over any kind of social life growing up.

Judy turns her attention to Bogo. “Protocol dictates that we neutralize the threat, with lethal force if necessary, to protect civilians, our partners, and ourselves in that order of priority.”

Putting his hoof-hands on the table and folding his hoof-fingers together, Bogo stares Judy down while she defiantly returns his gaze.

“So why are you insisting on using the equivalent of verbal deescalation in this situation Officer Hopps? Protocol dictates that it’s no longer a viable option and will likely to get mammals killed. Like your partner or yourself.”

Narrowing her eyes, Judy hardens her gaze as much as she does her stance on this mater. “To be fair ‘Bogo’, we haven’t even tried the nonviolent method yet. So how do we know this is our only option to deal with Stallhoof. To attack with lethal force those whom we considered friends or coworkers just yesterday?”

Sighing, the elderly arctic shrew next to the water buffalo looks up to the former chief of police with a sad expression on his muzzle.

‘Innocence is always a sad thing to see die, never took Judith to be one of the ones who beg and plead when reality murders it. Or she’s still held onto such belief's til now. I thought Nicholas would be a better influence on her world-view.’

Turning his attention to the two polar bear enforcers, the few who remain whom he knows are loyal. Mr. Big points a tiny claw tip over to where Mark and Finnick are working.

“Help the Human. Do what he says to the best of your ability, but also arm yourselves with what you think you need. You have my full permission to make these mammals pay however you see fit without asking me for my permission first.”

“Dad!” Fru-fru stomps across the table to glare at her father. “What about Judy’s idea?” she clutches the rabbit doe’s namesake in her arms protectively.

“Enough mammals have died tonight, why add more?”

Judy turns her attention to Mr. Big. Ignoring the sounds of the polar bears moving the two pallets by hand-paw over to the nearly gutted ambulance. Or the noise Mark and Finnick with his bat are making while working on it.

The process of bashing things off of the vehicle being cathartic for the desert fox as they make room for the explosives.

Gritting her small muzzle, Judy stares down at the shrew. “What, are you doing!? We’ve not decided on a course of action yet to handle this situation! I’ll not support a plan of action that gets mammal’s needlessly killed when there’s a way we can do this and not harm anyone.”

Ignoring the yelling doe, Fangmeyer glances at Bogo. Her tail lashing about behind her, showing her agitation at the situation. Yet to help keep Judy calm, she forces her ears to stay neutral and her self seated where she’s at, holding the doe down.

Doesn’t matter if every bit of her being would rather be next to the wolf she’s fallen for, instead of listening to her friend’s worldview crack further. This loyalty to her friend keeps Fangmeyer seated when she ‘really’ doesn’t want to be.

She doesn’t have to ask as Bogo looks back at the tigress with a knowing look. The former chief of police silently stands and takes the tigress’s spot.

He takes her place in helping to physically keep Judy in her seat. With the barest hint of a smile on his muzzle, he watches Fangmeyer rush over to Wolfard out of the side of his vision once freed from this task for the good of the rabbit doe they call a friend.

Just in time for said lupine to be shaking off the effects of the painkillers and sedatives he was under. Soon the steady beat of Wolfard’s tail against the gurney joins the noise Mark and Finnick are making.

“My dear Judith.” Mr. Big gives Judy his best fatherly smile. A genuine one, not the fake one he wears while being the mob boss he’s known for being.

“I know this must be tough for you. Seeing your coworkers and some mammals you thought of as friends act as they have. To see them turn on you for the perceived security of their pay-checks. I also understand the desire to avoid needless violence whenever possible. For different purposes obviously, but the desire is the same regardless. I also know the pain you’re in right now, seeing the worst of mammal-kind when you thought we were putting our base desires and instincts behind us as civilized beings.”

Mr. Big glances Nicholas who also has his hand-paws on Judy’s shoulders, trying to get her to calm down while Bogo does the work of keeping her rooted to the chair, so she doesn’t do something she’ll regret later.

‘No wonder they fell for each other, they’re more alike than they realize. We just don’t have the luxury of time to deal with this like when Nick did after coming into my employ. To be fair though, most of it was done due that kit-hood incident of his.’

“They’re just mistaken! Or tricked!” Judy impulsively counters. Both Bogo and Nick having to harden their grips to stop the doe from launching at the tiny former Mob Boss.

“We just need to remove Stallhoof, tell them he lied to them, and they’ll come to their senses! Of course, we’ll have to arrest those who committed crimes, but that’s better than killing them because they stand in our way!” She slams her hand-paws on the table, causing Fru-Fru to fall on her tail. All the while staring down the arctic shrew with un-rabbit like predatory intent.

The echoing sound has Mark and one of the polar-bears to pause mid-step while loading bricks of C-four into the ambulance. The other peeks his head out of the ambulance after placing a brick of the explosive on the growing pile.

“Of all tha times for her stubbornness ta rear its ugly muz.” Finnick mutters to himself, shaking his head as he wires each brick up to some makeshift detonator wire.

Mentally sighing, Mark finishes loading up the ambulance as the two ursine helpers continue to stare at Judy.

“Judy, hun, I don’t think it’s going to be that simple.” Nick omits that he ‘knows’ it’s not just a case of being mistaken. His coworkers who have sided with Stallhoof know full well what they’re doing and the consequences for them if Stallhoof falls. So they won’t let him fall if at all possible.

Nick shrinks a little as the rabbit doe he loves turns her gaze upon him with a look of betrayal in those loving amethyst eyes of hers.

“You, too, slick?” Her voice cracks a bit as she speaks showing the whirlwind of emotions going on inside her.

Wincing at this, Fangmeyer glances back with ears pinned against her head in fright at the doe while holding Wolfards head in her hand-paws. ‘Judy… We’re not your enemies…’

With everyone else staring at the drama unfolding, which Mark’s ignoring on principle due to his training kicking in. He busies himself with snaking the wiring for the explosives under floor mats and tucked behind still attached panels. All the way up to the center console between the driver and front passenger seat.

Only momentarily stopping his work and looking out of the vehicle at the sound of Bogo having to lift Judy off the shared seat with Nick to restrain her. All so she doesn’t hurt Nick.

When he looks back down at his task Mark sees; one, there’s a CB radio laying on the floor of the ambulance’s passenger side foot-well. Two, it’s on. And three, he hears someone talking on it via its internal speaker at a low volume, as if the driver wasn’t supposed to have it with them on their work-shift.

“Hello, anyone on this channel?” Mark’s only able to hear the male vulpine voice due to the silence in the warehouse as Judy’s restrained by her former boss as everyone else stares, waiting for Judy to react violently to this.

Grabbing the radio, Mark thumbs the volume up to full. Drawing the attention of those around the ambulance as the vulpine voice plays through its speaker. Followed everyone else in the warehouse stopping to listen a moment later.

Scrambling for the dangling receiver, Mark yanks it up by the cord, grabs it, and pushes the talk button on the paw shaped object. “Breaker One-Nine, I hear you.”

Gideon scratches his head at the language used while tilting an ear in confusion before replying. “I got tha part about you being their, obviously ya are talking ta me. But what’s tha rest of that mean?”

“Sorry.” Mark moves the CB radio back up onto the dash of the vehicle. “Thought you would know the language for talking on CB radio since you were using it.”

‘Guess this mammal is someone who uses this thing regularly, though the voice sounds oddly familiar. I know I heard it somewhere recently.’ Sighing and sipping from one of the now open water rations. Gideon adjusts the ancient headphones again as they have started to slip off. The ancient metal frame bending to conform to his head size after prolonged use, thus no longer as tight as it was earlier.

“Tha name’s Gideon Gray, who am I speaking ta?”

“Mark Mercer.” Mark replies.

The successful squirming out of Bogo’s arms by Judy followed by his frantic snatching of her out of the air and placing her back down into the shared chair with Nick plays in his peripheral vision.

He pays it nor further mind as Judy tries again and again to get out of the water buffalo’s grip. Each time less successful than the first, but she still continues to try.

Slipping off the drivers seat and out the open driver’s side door, Mark moves the cb radio from the dash onto the seat. Suspecting that the rabbit doe will want to speak with Gideon after she gets loose. He’s betting she will soon, contrary to her multiple failures so far.

‘They know each other after all.’ He mentally sighs.

“Wait, tha alien? Whatcha doing on something as old as CB radio when you have all tha fancy alien tech on paw?”

Mentally debating what to tell the gray fox, Mark glances around the ambulance and the warehouse. Weighing their time constraints and what Gideon should and shouldn’t know on an open channel.

“A long story that I don’t have time to tell Mr. Gray. Let’s just say I plan on putting an end to good mammal’s dying this night. So…”

Only to get cut short by the Gray Fox. Because Gideon figures if there’s any place Judy would be. She’d be with the mammals doing exactly that.

“Are you with Judy!? Do you know where she is? There’s something she needs to know!” Gideon’s booming voice makes Mark wince. He fumbles for the volume nob, turning it down a notch. Upon looking back out at the warehouse, Judy’s escaped Bogo’s grasp and is dashing right for him with the water buffalo following a step behind her.

Pulling the mic back up to his mouth Mark dryly replies. “Let me get her for you.” Then hands it to the leporidae doe the instant she’s within reach, stunning her to a stop at the casualness of it.

Mentally washing himself of the conversation, Mark climbs back into the ambulance. Returning to work on wiring up the detonation system to the front console.

‘Better to be safe than sorry, don’t know if they shut down cell service or are jamming it. We’ll just repurpose this dial for a timer setting and hope for up to a minute being long enough for whomever we choose as driver to get to cover after stopping the vehicle close by.’

“Gideon!” Judy yells into the mic with both hope and worry. Yes she thinks this whole idea is nuts, that they should do something other than go in and kill anyone who gets in their way. On top of that though, she’s been worried sick about her family, having not heard hide nor hair of them. They’re just a few hundred miles away from Zootopia and still in the state of camelfornia after all and if they know what’s going on, her phone would be swamped with texts.

‘Hopefully the craziness going on hasn’t reached them, but why is Gideon doing this instead of one of my siblings? Some of my older brothers have CB-Radio sets after all, in their trucks, which come to think of it won’t reach this far. So it has to be one of the ones hooked up to the Hopp’s family radio tower. Come to think of it, that makes it even weirder that it’s Gideon. How’d he get a hold of a set connected to it?’

Judy recalls the ‘discussion’ they had with her mother and father over it being built when she was about seven or eight. Eventually they relented on the condition it was made to look like some of their evergreen trees. So it wouldn’t be an eyesore visible from most of the property.

“Judy!” The gray fox lets out a sigh or relief tinged with trepidation. A gnawing doubt that now comes to the forefront. So focused he’s been on trying to get a hold of the doe he used to bully, that he spent so little time on thinking on ‘how’ to tell her about what happened.

Breaking the news to her that she may as well be the only legal heir of the entire Hopps family alive and old enough to inherit what they have left of their worldly possessions isn’t something he’s mentally prepared himself to do.

“Um… I have some good news and some bad news ta tell you Judy.” Gulping, Gideon looks over at the slowly waking pile of rabbit kits. He hasn’t had a lick of sleep between searching the channels on the Radio for help and rotating the crank to keep them all breathing and the temperature safe in here.

With her ears repeatedly moving between straight up and flat back against her head, Judy presses down on the talk button. “Good news? Bad news? What’s going on Gideon?” Nick walks up behind her, both curious as to what’s going on as well as a sinking feeling this won’t be good for his mate’s fragile mental health.

Not that anything tonight’s been good for it, he muses.

The gray fox opens his muzzle, then closes it several times. Each a false start on informing Judy of what happened to her family. Eating away at him from the inside each time. ‘What am I going ta say? Congratulations, you’re tha heir to the Hopp’s family company, property, and accounts?’

Taking a deep breath Gideon finally says something. “Um, Cotton. Ya favorite niece is safe and unharmed except for a minor first degree burn on her hand-paw.”

Not exactly what Judy was expecting to hear, one of her ears half droops while the other stays ram-rod up reflecting her confused state of mind. Nick for his part gulps lightly and places a hand-paw on her shoulder again. His tail showing his nervousness in its rapid movements back and forth, of both what Gideon’s getting at, and if Judy will instantly remove his touch from her body again like last time.

This time though, she doesn’t. So he silently prays to Karma for that.

Needless to say the two of them have an audience of every other mammal that isn’t tied up or scared of being executed for being in the presence of a crime boss, or isn’t Mark. Who’s absently paying attention while twisting strands of wire together. About ready to connect it to a radio dial that will set the timer.

“Well, that’s nice to know Cotton didn’t get badly burnt from touching a stove pot like she’s been told not to several times.” Judy’s voice wavers from stress. This weird way of contacting her over such a minor thing is waving flags that she wants to ignore and is adding to it. So through sheer force of will, she does ignore them.

Looking at Nick’s hand-paw and the vulpine tenses as the doe reaches up. He fully expects her to remove its presence, only for him to relax as Judy gently grips it instead.

“Her, uh, nine other siblings are fine. Physically. Can’t really tell ya about how they’ll be in their head after all this in a few years Judy.” Gideon gulps, he swears he can feel her eyes on him even if she’s hundreds of miles away and not underground like he is.

Bringing his hand-paw up to his muzzle, Gideon indulges on a bad habit he long thought he kicked as a child. Gnawing on his claws. The sound carries through the open mic.

Judy and Nick open their mouths to speak, unknowingly at the same time, only to be stopped as Gideon just blurts it out. Finding no other way to inform Judy of her status as the Hopps family heiress, he just lets off his chest.

“Every other Mammal of your family is dead Judy! Other than those who were kicked outa ya family for being bigoted over ya relationship, or haven’t arrived yet… I, uh, was here doing my deliveries when tha Camelfornia National Guard arrived and started ta slaughter them ta tha last mammal. I’m Sorry! I couldn’t save ya sister, Cotton’s and the other’s mother!”

The gray fox takes a breath and continues. Ignoring the sound of the receiver dropping from Judy’s hand-paw and hitting the side of the ambulance.

“She, ah, at least took her killer with her. Your Pop-Pop and Samantha then bum-rushed me into this panic room and closed tha door just in time ta save me and tha ten remaining Hopp’s kits from tha guard perusing us. While I was out tha guard set fire ta tha warren, and we’re trapped but safe in tha panic room for tha moment. But it’s like this all over tha state and I haven’t slept in hours! I don’t know what ta do…”

Nick’s and Mark’s eyes meet. The former slowly lowering the feinted rabbit doe to the ground and the latter grabs the receiver now dangling by the cord back into the vehicle.

After some ‘gentile’ coaxing by Fangmeyer, the EMT doe takes Nick’s place with making sure Judy’s okay. Allowing Mark to hand the receiver to the red fox before going back to finishing up the explosive’s wiring with the Fennec fox.

Said desert fox though has his ears lowered and is avoiding looking in Judy’s direction in pure shame. ‘Now I just feel bad for railing tha bunny cop on tha way here…’ Finnick looks up, at the EMT then away again. ‘Wouldn’t wish losing ya entire family like that ta any-mammal. Gonna hafta make it up ta her.’

Bringing the receiver to his muzzle, Nick depresses the talk button forcefully. The plastic creaks in his hand-paw. “Gideon, Judy feinted.” Before the Gray Fox can speak, Nick continues.

“It’s been a rough night for carro… I mean Judy. I think I speak for everyone here.” The red fox eyes Mark who unlike everyone else, even the EMT and the bound driver who’s gone silent. Doesn’t seem phased by the news.

“That the news you bring is rather shocking. Still, as her loving mate, Judy’s family was also part of mine and I will make sure the one whose responsible will pay for their deaths.”

Dropping the receiver and letting it dangle off its cord, Nick climbs into the ambulance to confront Mark. Only pausing when Gideon’s reply comes through the speakers.

“Thank you, Nick. Tha Hopps spoke highly of ya whenever I stopped by ta do my deliveries lately. So I don’t have ta worry over Judy’s safety. I can focus on tha kits here and hopefully when tha fire dies down enough. I can take them somewhere safer.” Despite fumbling the delivery, Gideon feels a weight off his shoulders as he reaches over, poking the power button and shutting off the CB-radio.

Silence and the ticks and pops of cooling vacuum tube electronics fills the safe room as Gideon just drops the earphones to the floor. Exhausted, he feels the ordeal is mostly over for him, and he’ll have a chance to rest.

“Aww, but I wanted to talk to auntie Judy and uncle Nicky.” Gideon nearly falls over onto his side in fright as Cotton speaks up behind him, he didn’t even hear her approach. All his fur poofing up, least of which is his tail. Appearing to gain twice its volume as all the fur stands on end, much to the amusement of the young rabbit kit.

Cotton to laughs and hugs it tightly. “Yay, now your tail is as fluffy as uncle Nicky’s.”

---

Inside the ambulance.

---

“Alright, explain!” Standing on the driver’s seat, Nick points a claw tip accusingly over at Mark. Someone whose well to earning his way to Nick’s shit list. Not an easy task, mind you.

First for not protecting his sister on their date per vulpine custom. Now seemingly acting as if he knew this was going to happen, yet doing nothing about it.

“It was a possibility.” Mark shrugs. Not wanting to come off cold. Only to wince as he does so anyway. ‘Me and my big mouth…’

Having dug himself this hole, Mark continues. Hoping reason wins out.

“Dictators back home, including the one Stallhoof seems to be the mirror of did this to those that they feel absolutely threatened by. Not only try to kill them, which from what you told us earlier after Bogo, Mr. Big and I got you all to sit down. He already attempted back in that riot. They also wipe out their entire family’s, as a lesson to not cross them to anyone else. So I was expecting ‘something’ to happen to Judy’s family, just not this. After all you and her took down two Mayors over corruption.”

Nick’s fur bristles, causing his old friend and hustler partner to back away. Having spent all his bravery in poking Judy. He dares not poke his friend to see what form of monster Nick’s anger is.

“And why pray tell to Karma didn’t you try to warn them just in case?”

Quirking a brow, Mark stops what he’s doing to look back at Nick.

“And show my hand to Stallhoof? In case you haven’t realized Nick, the majority of the police and national guard are on his side. Might have been for a while now come to think of it. So giving an anonymous tip to anyone that this was going to happen would’ve been a bad move on my part. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like they died. But, I didn’t know them, and I can’t focus on every little tragedy right now and do what I need to do to stop this.”

Looking back at what he was doing, Mark connects the last few wires to the front console of the vehicle, then pushes the panel back into place with a loud thud. “Now, you have every right to be angry at me even though I am not blame for their deaths Nick.”

He notes Nick’s folded ears, bristling fur, and thrashing tail showing that the vulpine in his anger thinks otherwise.

“But we have a deer to hunt. So you have two choices.” Mark holds up his hand with two fingers up.

“Let this cloud your judgment and walk out that door to do ‘something’ that I’ll tell you right now won’t do a damn bit of good.” He lowers one.

“Or, you can put that anger aside, like an adult, and I will guarantee before the night is out you will have the rack of who ordered them killed in your hand-paws to hang on your wall, with your Sister freed from his clutches.” Mark lowers the other.

Moving to fully sit up, he stares Nick down. Forcing the vulpine to make eye contact with him.

Returning the gaze, nick slowly regains control of his emotions with is ears and tail. “Fine!” The vulpine all but yells at the top of his lungs.

“But I reserve the right to reassess our relationship and my blessing of having my sister date you afterwards Mr. Mercer.”

Putting a small smile on his face that Mark only realizes afterwards makes him look a little cocky, he replies. “I’ll show you the lengths of which a good man will go to, to protect ones he loves and cares for Nick.”