Well everyone, here we are again after a long period of inactivity from moi. I do apologize. I had a killer idea for a story that will be what you are about to read, and for the time being have put Chemistry on hiatus. Given my extended break from writing those stories, I need time before I can revisit them and continue the story the way I would like it to turn out.

Alright, on to this new story. This will be an OC-insert into the world of Zootopia. It will combine some elements of a self-insert, but at the same time the character has only passing references to myself and Hartford from my Mass Effect stories. Without further ado, enjoy!

*THIS STORY HAS BEEN RATED: T For: Language, Violence, Alcohol/Drug References, and (possible) Light Romance*

**The content therein falls under fair use. All non-original characters remain the property of their respective owners. This is for entertainment purposes only, and no profit will be made from it.**

Syria, where shit can hit the fan any moment of any day. And wow, did it hit hard today. As an Army Combat Surgeon stationed with one of the few garrison and support units left in-county, I have had my fair share of experience dealing with usual raids by members of pro-government groups, or small militia squads. Imagine my surprise when a Russian mechanized infantry regiment decides to politely knock on our metaphorical door… welcome to my day.

Thank god I had gotten into the habit of being more prepped for attacks, and more organized with my weapons, except for (of course) during any medical operations. I was able to slip into the rest of my Tier Four body armor, covering my whole upper body and thighs in ballistic plate. Throwing on my eye protection and helmet, and grabbing my M4, I was as ready as I could be to fight.

"Captain Glasman! Sir, over here!" Turning towards the yell of a fellow officer, an Infantry platoon leader named Lieutenant Stills, I hauled ass out of my tent and made it to his section of the HESCO wall in seconds flat. "Dammit, Doc Nash…" He used my nickname, short for Nashville, "Captain Sherr bit it early, hit by a mortar shell from the initial barrage. Bravo Platoon also lost their CO. It's down to me and Amstel as PL's, and you're in command, sir!"

I silently cursed to myself. I had commanded soldiers before, but in an informal, non-combat sense. I was no infantry commander. I of course went through the course to become an officer during medical school, but merely as a formality so I knew proper procedure. Despite this, though, I knew it had to be my time to step up and be more than the Company's doctor now. "Alright Stills… we need to hold this position as long as possible. We have nowhere to retreat to. Get a message out to command, have your radioman roll us the QRF and any possible support we can get! Have the weapons squad from your platoon break out all the AT rockets we have in the armory, so we can do something about these BTRs! Relay what you can to Amstel. Split bravo between you and him. 2 squads a piece. You cover this and the West wall, he'll cover the South and East. Go!"

I knew full well we were surrounded and had to act quickly. As soon as I received a nod back from Stills, I took off towards Alpha platoon and Amstel's position, to make sure my orders made it to everyone as quickly as possible. As if the day couldn't be more of a SNAFU, I was too late to catch that a mortar barrage was still happening. To reward my attention, the shot landed a fair distance in front of me, giving me enough time to mumble "Oh shi- ", before I was blown off my feet and knocked out cold.

Well… I'm not dead, at least. I felt very drowsy as I weakly opened my eyes, as if I had been drugged. I had a headache worse than any migraine in my entire life. My mouth felt dry, and I was unable to speak, from drugs or injury I couldn't tell. As my vision and other senses gradually returned, I could make out very Slavic words being spoken over me, and I discerned that I was in some sort of operating room or lab from my surroundings. One of my captors, presumably a Russian doctor based on their language and his appearance in scrubs, noticed I was stirring, and must have ordered around his companions, as they jumped to it after he spoke.

Regaining a very weak range of motion, I found myself bound to the uncomfortable table, hooked up to numerous IV lines, looking to me like simple saline. As the doctor turned his back on me, I was confused when I saw that I was still in my uniform and gear, albeit weaponless, and that they had only rolled up my sleeves to sink the large gauge needles into my wrists. My heart sank, though, when the head doctor turned around from an instrument tray, holding five syringes of various color. I had the state of mind to panic but could do nothing as members of his team each took one and inserted their needles into various ports on the IV lines. The doctor seemingly counted down from three, and on his mark my captors plunged down their syringes. I couldn't even scream as it felt like I was being torn apart from the inside and burning. The worst pain I had ever felt in my life. Luckily, some god had mercy and allowed me to slip back into unconsciousness.

Part of me never expected (or wanted, for that matter) to wake up after that ordeal. But, as I sat up with a start, gasping for air, almost as if waking from a bad dream, I knew that I had proven myself wrong. What surprised me the most, however, was my location. When I last saw the light of day, I was in the sands of Syria, then god-knows-where Russian hospital/lab, and now in bright green grass, surrounded by trees of various North American styles, with a bright blue sky dotted with cirrus clouds high above me. Needless to say, I was thrown off beyond all belief.

Checking over myself, I was surprised yet again to find that I still had my gear, uniform, armor, pack, field medical kit, everything except for weapons. There was no pain either, leading me to believe that I was not injured and still functional. Resolving to check myself over later, I knew I needed to find out where exactly I was, and what exactly happened to me. I decided to assume I was still in a hostile environment, and remained cautious as I crouched, finding cover behind a large tree and visually scanning the area. Now that I had a better vantage, I could see through the numerous bushes that I was in some kind of park, with many tall buildings in the distance. I made out a winding, paved path to my right, and decided to follow it from the foliage to stay as hidden as possible.

When I started crouch-walking along, I noted that I felt something uncomfortable near my lower back, almost like a thick rope were there. Given that I couldn't just drop my pants for fear of being near something hostile, I added it to my list of 'things to check myself for'. Come to think of it, my helmet and boots both felt like they were uncomfortably sized, which confused me as both were frequently used and had become like a second skin. Perhaps my original captors had given me new items? Again, added to the list of checks.

Seeing no one on the path, I kept moving, nearing a road at the edge of the grass where odd cars, large and small, zipped by on their way to who-knows-what. It was only when I was feet away, stopping at the last line of shrubs, that I finally noticed it. The civilians walking the streets weren't… even… human! I let out a short yelp in surprise, before shutting myself up and hoping nothing heard me. All of the… things walking on the sidewalk appeared to be animals! Full. Blown. Animals! Different species of Mammal to be specific. It was then that I started to have my mental breakdown. Dipping low into the bushes, I started breathing rather heavily, trying to calm myself down. What the shit was happening here?! Why were there no humans? How did I get here? I pulled my helmet off of my head, as I was feeling extraordinarily hot from the anxiety.

That's when I noticed.

Reaching to remove the ACH, my gloved hands found a lack of ears on the side of my head! Throwing my head protection to the ground, I felt the weight on top of my head shift. Reaching up, I found that the feeling had been from a pair of rather large, dog-like ears! I was having none of it at this point, as I slapped myself across the face rather hard to assure that I wasn't dreaming. No, the pain sure as hell meant that I was in the present, and seeing my hand made me nearly tear off my protective gloves in shock… In lieu of my four fingers were three, slightly larger, black furred paw pads! I still retained a thumb as well, but it too was larger and resembled if a dog's paw had morphed with a human hand. I quickly replaced the glove onto my new paw-appendage, clipping my helmet onto my pack with the usual carabiner, running through scenarios of what the hell happened to me in my head. At this point I had to assume that the rope-like feeling at my back was a tail, and feet-paws were jammed uncomfortably into my boots.

As it turns out, my yelp was enough to attract attention, and while I was distracted with these new revelations, I heard a female voice behind me pipe up, "Police! Sir, are you alright? What are you wearing?"

My eyes went wide, and I jumped to my feet, spinning around and backing towards a nearby oak, "Where the hell am I?! Don't come any closer, I don't want to hurt whatever you are, but I won't hesitate!"

"Calm down sir! I'm Officer Hopps, and this is Officer Wilde of the Zootopia Police Department. You're in Zootopia sir, and I think you might not be feeling well. We aren't trying to hurt you, we just want to know who you are, so we can get you help…" The one speaking was considerably shorter than I was, possibly only three feet including ears. Her partner, a fox by the looks, was only a good foot taller than her, whereas all indications pointed that I still stood at my full six-foot stature.

I hesitated for a moment but decided that despite I lost my weapons, I could take these two easily (if they ended up doing me any harm). "I- ", I struggled to even find words, "I'm Captain Nashville Glasman, Combat Surgeon with the United States Army. I know now for a fact that I'm not at all injured, but somehow landed myself in a world of talking animals and assume that I'm one now too, correct?"

The fox answered this time, "Well, Captain, I've never heard of the United States or any Army even. I only know about a National Defense Force for our small nation, besides the police. And yeah, looks like you're a full-blown mammal, my friend" he said with a quirk of his brow, looking over the line of his aviator glasses at me.

Hopps nodded before piping up yet again, "Well, sir, since you say you aren't injured, and all of your patches on that vest do point to the possible existence of these 'United States', I think it's only fair to take you in to see our Chief of Police. Perhaps he'll know what to do."

"Okay, fine. Lead on, then." I'm still on alert, not knowing whether or not this is all truthful, but I have no better choice at the moment. After telling me that it's a rather short walk to their precinct, I fall into step behind them, looking massively out of place in full combat gear in a city that's probably never seen much more than a S.W.A.T. team, if I had to guess.

Eventually, after five or ten minutes of walking, questioning glances, and scared civvies, we reached the front steps of the large glass structure that was the Police Department. As I took the first step up towards the door, I wondered to myself if life would ever be the same.

Well, first chapter is officially bagged and tagged! I have a wonderful outline of how I'd like this story to pan out from here, so definitely keep your eyes peeled for updates! I will make them as frequent as I possibly can. As always, please leave a follow, favorite, and review! Criticisms are welcome, but if you want me to reply directly, I cannot do that with anonymous reviewers, fyi.

Thank you for reading! See you next time.