When Night Falls

by upplet

Ten months after the events of When Instinct Falls, Nick begins the difficult work of forging a new path. With his eyes on the mayor's office and Judy at his side, the duo work together to make the world a better place, and navigate a dangerous plot years in the making. Meanwhile, a long kept secret threatens to destroy the peace between Zootopia's last two great crime families.

3. A Step Forward

"A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step." - Lao Tzu

---

11:15 A.M ; Tundratown...

In spite of the bitter temperature of the district he ruled over and called home, Mr. Big did not consider himself a cold mammal.

To him, his reputation as a mammal of strong family values and camaraderie was an indisputable aspect of his identity. It was what made him who he was. After all, there was little he viewed as more important in life than family, and the legacy that came with it. Those values defined his deepest beliefs, and now, those same values haunted him relentlessly. Mr. Big felt nothing but regret for his part in the deaths of the Fangpyre family. He had always viewed Vladzotz Fangpyre as his friend and trusted colleague, yet in an act of rage, Mr. Big had taken away his friend's old family, leaving Vladzotz a seething husk of hate and grief, and leaving the shrew wracked with guilt for seven years.

All, at least, until the truth had at last been revealed. The moment that recording had arrived at the summit between the Families, Mr. Big knew that something was deeply wrong. But the damage had been done, and now, war threatened the peace between the Tundratown Mafia and the Nocturnal-Mob. He could only wonder where that recording had truly originated. Something told him that answers would arrive sooner or later - his minions eager to gather as much information as possible - but for now, all that could be done was minimize damage. He knew that much. But it wasn't enough to ease his conscience.

The last two great crime families of Zootopia, he thought bitterly to himself, leaning back in his minuscule wooden chair. Reduced to this. And it's all my fault.

Mr. Big gazed outside the frosted window of his estate's office in Tundratown, watching the snow delicately flutter beneath the afternoon sun. It was a beautiful sight that never failed to calm him, no matter his mood. But not this time. His being felt as bleak and lifeless as the snow itself, regret filling every bone in his body. Seven years ago, his anger had gotten the better of him. Despite his typically calm demeanor, the old shrew had a temper deep down, and that temper had led to the mistake that now bedeviled him. Mr. Big wished he could have taken it back, but alas, the past could not be changed. When the news had dropped, he had been hoping that enough time had passed since the incident for Vladzotz to have forgiven him. After all, the bat had clearly moved on, with a new family that seemed to make him even happier than he'd ever been before.

But in hindsight, this was a foolish hope. Blood stained the shrew's paws, and betrayal through murder was not something that could be so easily forgiven. Mr. Big understood that plenty. He sighed longingly, and then looked to the letter that had arrived that morning, basking in the sunlight atop his massive desk. Unmarked, with no return address, the shrew knew that it was from Vladzotz. It had been in his possession for hours, yet he had not attempted to read it. Fear - an emotion that rarely afflicted a mob boss like him - stalled his efforts. But after enough time gazing through the window, wishing for a stable path forward, Mr. Big concluded that there was no better time than the present.

Sighing wearily, he stepped down from his chair, tiny feet supporting his weight as he stood atop the mahogany surface of his desk. He approached the envelope, which was nearly twice the size of his entire body, and then ripped it open without any further hesitation. Hauling out the letter from inside, he unfolded it and began to read. His bushy eyebrows gradually raised with shock as he read on, revealing his beady blue eyes. Finished, the shrew collapsed, breathing heavily and clutching tenderly at his heart.

"Kozlov!" Mr. Big shouted into the empty room as he forced himself to his feet, voice cracking with the fear in his volume. "Assemble the caporegimes!"

Standing out of sight but within hearing range, the burly polar bear obeyed the command. Within minutes, the top leadership of the Tundratown Mafia surrounded their boss, gazing down at him with dutiful interest. The crowd numbered no more than ten, and consisted mostly of polar bears, along with a few arctic wolves and fellow shrews perched in their paws. All wore fine black suits and fluffy overcoats, as opposed to the track suits that the organization's soldiers and other lower-ranking members often sported.

Once they had mustered, Mr. Big settled himself back down in his chair and swiveled to face them. He gestured to the letter laying next to him and said, "This is from Vladzotz Fangpyre. The possibility of war has been present since yesterday's summit, which many of you attended. You'll know that he expressed great anger toward me, and this organization." Mr. Big looked to the script, reading from it like a teleprompter. "Your failings as an ally come second only to your failings as a friend. With your severance of the non-aggression pact that has heralded generations of peace between our Families, the Fangpyre Family will henceforth cease all ties to the Big Family. All Big Family members will know our pain, and suffer our wrath through declaration and enactment of war, unless Cristoforo Big is surrendered as penance for his crimes. Without his expiation, Fangpyre justice will drink deep of Big blood. How many lives is one old shrew truly worth?" A sigh broke through the crime-lord's muzzle as he dipped his head and despondently pinched at his brow. "These are his words. He demands my life as atonement. I summoned you all here because I require your counsel for this decision."

"Wait, decision?" A brown-furred shrew spoke out, beady-black eyes wide with disbelief. "You mean you're considering it?"

"Yes, Michael," Mr. Big confirmed, voice as soft as it was glum. "I am."

The crowd gazed at their boss with mouths agape. Even the ever-stoic Kozlov donned an expression of shock. Then the clamor erupted.

"What?! We can't bow to some ultimatum!" An arctic wolf growled.

"This can't possibly be considered!" One of the polar bears agreed.

"Enough!" Mr. Big demanded, effectively silencing the crowd. "We must focus. Our lives and livelihoods may depend on it." When he was sure that his followers were listening, he calmly continued, "It is true. I have put some thought to it, and although I long to live my golden years in peace, I am considering sacrificing myself for the organization. I would not have you risk your lives for my mistake. I did not personally take the lives of those innocent bats, nor did I want them dead, but this war was undeniably brought to our doors because of me, and that fact has tormented me for seven years. How could I, a mammal of family and honor, betray those same qualities out of trivial, temporary anger? How could I have taken the lives of my friend and ally's family? I struggle to sleep at night with these questions ailing me. I am… ready to part with them."

"But that does not mean you should forfeit your life, sir," Kozlov spoke out, deep and throaty accent filling the room. "You are our leader. We cannot go on without you."

Mr. Big gave a breathy hum beneath his breath. "You underestimate yourselves. The organization can, and must eventually. I see no reason why it cannot be now. I am not getting any younger, and recent years have punished me with poor health," he confessed, sticking one paw into his suit jacket and rubbing at a spot beneath the rose pinned over his heart. "It is as the letter said. My life is simply not worth facing the horrors of war. Not worth staking the survival of the organization and its members upon." Mr. Big shifted his weight in his chair. "You say you cannot lead without me. You are wrong," he raised a paw in the direction of the brown-furred shrew. "Michael can lead."

At the sudden attention, Michael straightened his posture atop the palm of the polar bear that carried him, but the look of anxiety across his face could not be masked. "S-Sir, you know I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help the family business, but I'm not fit to be its leader."

"Nonsense. You are my son-in-law," Mr. Big declared. "And you will treat the business with the same respect and guidance as you have shown my daughter in marriage."

Kozlov stepped forward. "This does not have to happen, sir. There is no need to sacrifice yourself - to give up on all you have built," he grumbled, directing a brief glare at Michael. "Not when we can fight."

"Yeah!" The arctic wolf concurred. "Why should we give up? Vlad is just a little bat with a big ego. We can take him! Besides, don't you know what those freaks will do to you? They'll literally drain, bottle and drink your blood."

Mr. Big sighed. "Most likely. But they are not freaks. They are mammals, like you and I. They are - or were - our friends and allies. And they were wronged. Honor dictates that they must be repaid, one way or another."

"Then repay them in currency they crave: blood," Kozlov said, pounding one meaty fist into the palm of the other. "Little bat declared war on us. We must answer call."

"Yes, to war!" Another polar bear added.

"We'll show those nocturnal stuck-ups that they can't order us around! Make 'em wish they never crawled outta their caves!" The arctic wolf declared.

"Niko, calm yourself," Mr. Big ordered. "Your support touches me, all of you, but-"

The shrew's voice was drowned by the sound of Kozlov dropping to one knee, bulk creaking the floorboards beneath him. "Cristoforo," he began, speaking in a tone as soft as snow. "I have served the Family all my life. Served your family. I refuse to spectate its suicide. Let us fight for you. Let us protect your life, as we have sworn to."

Mr. Big stared at his bodyguard, too awed to form words. Niko saw it as an opportunity to shuffle his way to the front of the crowd and bend the knee before his boss as well.

"We won't let you down sir," he promised. "You said yourself that you want to live your life in peace. Allow us to win that peace for you."

Kozlov nodded. "Yes. Give the Family chance to prove itself. Prove that we can win. And when victory is ours, you will be one crime-lord of Zootopia."

Every mammal in the room bowed to one knee. Mr. Big blinked at the sight of his loyal henchmammals, gaze dropping as he pondered his options. Kozlov's final statements seemed to appeal to him. After a few seconds of careful consideration, the shrew sighed once more, though this time, his exhale was that of relief, rather than exasperation.

"Very well. I will not yet give my life to the Fangpyres. We will fight." He proclaimed.

The caporegimes rose to their feet, cheering politely and throwing their fists in the air with vigor. Mr. Big couldn't deny that their support filled his heart with pride.

Of them all, only Michael seemed the least bit worried. "Is there not another way? One that doesn't involve violence, or suicide? I think this is a step in the wrong direction."

"If anything in this life is certain, if history has taught us anything, it's that you can kill anyone," Niko growled. "And I'm willing to test that on a crime-lord."

"No," Mr. Big interjected. "That I do not forgive. Vladzotz is not to be killed… for now. We will fight with the goal of destroying his organization, not him. We will deprive him of the means to fight. To command. And when he is all that remains - one bitter bat against the might of the Tundratown Mafia - he will be humbled, and see reason in his futility."

Michael looked back and forth between his father-in-law and fellow caporegimes, silently wondering if this was the right choice. He could tell that Cristoforo did not want to shed any more Fangpyre blood, as evident by his dismissal of Niko's claim, but something told Michael that it wouldn't just be the lives of their enemies that would be risked in a war. And even then, he knew that if the war raged on, 'for now' would eventually become meaningless. Michael knew his father-in-law well, and doubted he had the patience to keep that promise.

Mr. Big stood from his chair, ignoring Michael's worried look. "I require a pen and letter. Vladzotz will know our answer soon. And he will know that this means war."

---

Meanwhile, in Savanna-Central...

Everything had been going Mr. Boarton's way until the bullets started flying.

Months of careful planning had nearly gone up in smoke with that bat thief's sudden arrival, and equally sudden departure. Hiring her had been a risk, but a worthwhile one to forward the plan. Mr. Boarton was just glad that the boss had left the video conference call before the chaos had erupted. They wouldn't be happy once they found out that Lucy had survived the assassination attempt. The boar knew it wouldn't be a pleasant conversation. Reserving those thoughts for the proper time, Mr. Boarton turned to his associate.

"Well that was a fine mess," he grumbled as he pocketed his pistol into his bulky gray trench coat. "You land any shots, Virginia?"

The black rabbit's piercing hazel eyes glanced to him with as much emotion as a garden statue. "Does it look like it?" She inquired flatly, gesturing to the hole-peppered floorboards.

Mr. Boarton snorted through his thick snout. "Didn't think so. Let's check with overwatch." He announced, pressing a button on his earpiece. "Peter! Status!"

"I hear you," A whimsical voice declared from behind. "Loud and clear."

Both mammals turned to stare down the flying squirrel as he perched in the broken window frame. His white fur stood in stark contrast to his pure black bodysuit, which only served to draw further attention to his light pink eyes, and the orange tint of his ears and paws. Peter leapt from the window, gliding over and landing atop the office's desk, which explained how he had managed to reach the building from his shooter's roost across the street. He made it look easy, even with a sleek sniper rifle strapped to his back.

Virginia stepped forward. Her shredded left ear twitched toward the flying squirrel. "Did the bat escape?"

"She flew the coop, but it won't be long before we cross paths again. I'm sure of it!" Peter insisted, spreading his arms assuredly. "I understand her better than she understands herself."

"And what makes you so certain?" Mr. Boarton asked.

"Why, because I taught her everything she knows, of course!" Peter chuckled softly.

"I guess that makes this your fault." Virginia derided.

The flying squirrel raised his paws with exasperation, though he seemed more amused than anything. "What can I say? Every student has their time to outpace their mentor. Even if said mentorship is in the fine art of thievery. And hey, going by that logic, you can thank me for teaching her. Otherwise, I never could have known her, and suggested we hired her for the job in the first place - our unwitting vessel to serve our purposes. Our Trojan Bat!" He bowed, and then mockingly imitated Virginia's blasé voice before switching back to his own. "Thank you, Peter. You're welcome, surly rabbit."

Virginia blinked, unimpressed. "I see where she gets her showmanship from. And her lack of respect."

"Yes, well, my only complaint is that I didn't get to kill her myself. That was our deal, after all. I guess that means my work with you is just getting started!"

"Greeaaat," Virginia sarcastically groused. "This is exactly what I signed up for."

Mr. Boarton walked up to the bunny and placed a firm hoof on her shoulder. "Relax. Just remember what we're fighting for. What you're fighting for."

Virginia's gaze dipped to the floor, and she tugged on one of the sleeves of her oversized white blazer, as if making sure it was still there. Her stony expression twitched as a momentary look of sorrow passed over her before it was quickly masked once again. Mr. Boarton then turned to Peter, eyeing him distrustfully with filmy yellow irises.

"Your help will be of use. Let's all just try to get along and keep our heads together. We've got jobs to do, after all."

"Sure thing. Also, I'm not sure if I heard correctly," Peter mused, tapping at an earpiece in one of his fluffy orange ears. "But did the boss say that sending the recording to the crime-lords was completely improvised?"

"Mhm-hmm." Virginia simply hummed, earning a scoff from the flying squirrel.

"Am I the only one here that thinks that's a huge gamble? I was under the impression that this guy was, like, the embodiment of forethought."

"Look, I know you're new here, but you need to understand something," Virginia chastised as she turned to face him. "What the boss says goes. Period."

Mr. Boarton snorted in agreement. "Right. You need to have some faith in the boss. We've been working with 'em for years, and never once has he let us down. If he makes a change to the plan, just roll with it. Trust that he wouldn't make any if he didn't believe it would benefit us. Benefit the plan. Oh, and like the boss said, we're not here to kill the crime-lords, if that's what you're worried about. We have other goals in mind, and rest assured, the boss'll make sure they're accomplished."

"You're really that confident in him?" Peter inquired skeptically, glancing to the blank laptop screen the boss had spoken through just minutes earlier.

Both the rabbit and boar shared a brief gaze before staring back to the flying squirrel. "We trust him with our lives," Mr. Boarton assured. "You should too."

Peter chuckled mirthlessly, scratching at his throat. "Yeah, well, from my experience, criminal organizations tend to come and go. I don't get too hung-up on the camaraderie. At least, not anymore."

A smile sprouted across Virginia's mouth for the first time since Peter had met her. It was almost creepy, bent in a knowing fashion as if to say, you know so little.

"You still think we're just another group of criminals, don't you?" She asked softly. "I don't think you fully appreciate just who you're working for. The cause you're working for."

"No, but I'm pretty familiar with criminals who think way too highly of themselves, so I'm sure I'll fit right in." Peter shrugged innocently, wingflaps dangling from his arms like curtains. "Don't mind me, Miss. Unlike you two, I'm not in this for the politics. I'm just looking for some good old fashioned revenge! And wouldn't you know it, your merry little band just so happened to be the best chance I had at getting it! So you'll have to excuse me if I want to be certain that your boss knows what he's doing."

Mr. Boarton nodded. "I promise you can trust the boss - our boss - to get the job done right. He won't slip up, and neither will we. This is a plan decades in the making."

"Good to know," Peter said with a prominent smirk. "Will I ever get to actually meet him? I prefer doing business face-to-face. All this video conferencing is boring."

"Eventually. Probably." Mr. Boarton admitted, peeking warily at the laptop as if expecting it to come to life. "He likes to keep his distance. Helps ensure our safety."

"Well isn't that considerate. I have to say, his plans certainly are ambitious, from what I've heard, but I have a feeling you two aren't filling me in on the full picture."

"In due time," Mr. Boarton assured. "For now, just focus on your job. You're our main intelligence operative, and we'll need your abilities."

Peter smirked. "Of course. I'm not leaving this merry band until I get the vengeance I joined it for."

"You'll get your reward sooner or later. The boss never fails to deliver on his plans. We just have to await further instructions. I'm not sure why you want to kill your former protégé, but so long as you follow orders I can promise you her life will be yours… as I said, in due time."

The flying squirrel nodded, taking on a serious note. "That's all I need to hear. I'll do what I must."

"Oh, so he actually can shut up and listen for a change." Virginia taunted as she sat atop the office's desk and crossed one leg over the other.

"And what exactly is your purpose, aside from dropping sullen comments?" Peter growled, shooting an annoyed glare at the rabbit. She gave a rude gesture in return.

"Virginia, be nice," Mr. Boarton interjected before facing Peter. "You'll have to excuse her. Attitude notwithstanding, she's one of our most valuable assets. You'd be surprised by how much she's furthered our goals in the short time she's been with the team. She works close with the boss, not being much of a field agent, but came here to help us terminate your former student."

"I see," Peter mused, not entirely satisfied with the vague answer. Team or not, these mammals clearly kept their cards close to their chests. "And what about you? If we're going to be working together more, some familiarization wouldn't hurt."

The boar chuckled dryly. "I'm just the main muscle, nothing special."

"Yeah right," Virginia added. "You're our field operative. If it weren't for you, half the plans the boss makes wouldn't come true."

"Maybe so, but I don't view it so highly," Mr. Boarton insisted, readjusting his gray fedora. "We're all just mammals fighting for a cause we believe in. Nothing more."

Peter hummed curiously. "Well aren't you modest. But I have a hard time believing that mammals pulling strings as long as you could be so few in number. Save the codger downtown, is there anyone else hiding in the woodwork I should know about?"

"Not at this time." The boar claimed, earning yet another shrug from Peter.

"Fair enough."

Virginia hopped down from the desk and plucked the laptop from its surface. "I'll take care of this. Need to have a word with the boss, anyways. I don't think it was a good idea for him to use that stupid T.U.S.K icon in the video call. The bat might put something together from it."

"Forget about T.U.S.K," Mr. Boarton growled. "And if you're gonna be talking to him, I'll leave it to you to let him know what happened with Lucy."

The bunny rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll handle it. Just don't blame me if we get another lecture about 'preserving the deniability of the mission'." She quoted with her fingers.

"Wait, T.U.S.K? You mean that all-boar mercenary group?" Peter asked, pointing to the boar in front of him as he connected the dots.

"Tsch," Mr. Boarton scoffed, pulling on the lapels of his trench coat. "Old history there. Don't push it."

"Let's just say the boss is a fan," Virginia added, smiling ever so slightly as she teased, "And Boarton isn't."

Peter smirked. "Noted. Second question: is Mr. Boarton your real name?"

"Okay, enough," the boar warned. "We've talked too much as it is."

A police siren suddenly pierced the air, emanating from somewhere several blocks out of sight. Mr. Boarton sneered.

"This room will be a crime scene in a few minutes. I'm sure someone heard those shots we fired. Put some distance away from this building, and keep your phones close. The boss should be in contact again soon," the boar declared, yellow eyes hardening with determination. "All we have to do is await further instructions."

---

11:30 A.M ; Happytown, Savanna-Central...

No place in Zootopia filled Judy with as much pity as Happytown.

As she drove deeper into the neighborhood, Judy's eyes scanned over the town with disappointed recognition. Dilapidated, asymmetrical houses and rocky apartment complexes of varying sizes stretched for miles, like a ghetto plateau, webbed together by crumbling streets and sidewalks tufted with unkempt grass. What wasn't covered in cracks was decorated with graffiti, giving a welcome splash of color. Towering jumbles of brick and sheet-metal slums rose up the hills to the north, closer to the inner city, built around channels of rotting power lines and muddy ditches. Savanna trees sprouted from the occasional patch of nature, but garbage still littered the roads.

Predators of all shape and size were out and about, enjoying the day for all it was worth. Packs of painted dogs jogged down the sidewalks, and bear cubs kicked soccer balls in empty cul-de-sacs. Happytown used to be the kind of place where Judy would have locked the doors when driving through, but now, something seemed different about it. The pedestrians almost seemed happier, and even the streets looked less polluted than her last visit. For as much pity as the neighborhood filled her with, it now filled her with hope as well - hope that things could be better. Ever since Al Catpone's defeat, and the dissolution of his twisted plans involving the neighborhood's population, Happytown for once seemed to actually be a happy town. It didn't escape Judy's observations, and like any amount of happiness, it was contagious: causing her own mouth to spread in a smile.

Her patrol was uneventful, just the way she liked it. Normally, a place like Happytown was rife with petty crimes to spot and put a stop to, but this time, she was pleased to finish patrolling her entire sector without incident. The neighborhood's population must have been getting its act together. She even spotted some volunteers outside the soup kitchen that Nick's mother, Olivia Wilde, had recently taken over from Al Catpone himself. The older vixen waved at Judy's cruiser through the window, smiling warmly.

For as much as Judy wished to stop and talk, she had other mammals to visit. After a few more minutes of driving, her cruiser pulled up right alongside another identical one parked at a local park. She rolled down her driver's side window and stared at the vehicle to her left, watching as its passenger's side window retracted into the door and revealed the mammals within. Sitting in the driver's seat, a muscular timber wolf in ZPD blues cocked a toothy grin at her.

"Heya, Officer O'Conall!" Judy greeted cheerfully. "Anything to report?"

"I told you, call me Harlan," the big wolf insisted, chuckling softly. "You don't have to be so formal around me. And no, we've been all-clear ever since we arrived."

"We?" Judy asked, glancing around the interior of his vehicle for any sign of another cop.

A young ewe peeked her gaze over the edge of the window, too short to see much past it. Her big brown eyes narrowed with a smile that couldn't be seen past the door.

"Officer Ewever, reporting for duty!" The sheep stated as she gave a salute to her superior.

"Mary!" Judy exclaimed, too surprised - albeit pleasantly - to formally address her. "Since when were you two partners? I thought Harlan was paired with Officer Snarloff."

Harlan grinned a bit wider. "The paperwork filed yesterday. We're officially off rookie status."

"So we jumped at the chance to partner up!" Mary elaborated. "Honestly, I was ready to get away from McHorn. He was a great mentor, but kinda slacked on the deodorant."

Judy shushed her, though not without a smile spreading her lips. "Careful, you never know when the radio might accidentally be on. Nick's gotten in trouble more than once because of that!" She giggled to herself, turning to steal a glance at her foxy partner, though remembered too late that his chair was empty. Her ears drooped dejectedly.

"Everything okay, Judy?" Mary asked as she pressed a button, causing her chair to rise to a more convenient height and reveal her blue-clad torso.

Clearing her throat, the rabbit officer straightened her spine in an effort to mask her disappointment. "Oh, yeah, definitely, everything is A-Okay." She insisted.

Mary nodded, though she could tell that Judy wasn't telling the full truth. "Oh, okay. Well, just know that we're always here for you, Judy."

"Yeah, for sure," Harlan added, leaning forward toward the window. "You saved my life at the academy. Need anything? Just ask."

"Oh, and if you feel like work is too stressful by yourself, you can always apply for a new partner-"

"I don't need a new partner," Judy snapped with a bit more volume than she intended, silencing Mary mid-sentence. Instantly regretting it, she gave an apologetic gaze to her subordinates, but otherwise continued her statement. "I… I can handle things on my own. Don't worry about me."

"O-Okay. If you say so." Mary said with a nod, causing the braided balls of wool dangling from the sides of her head to swing like pendulums.

Something about watching them swing like a hypnotic stopwatch shook Judy from her mood. Breathing in deep and exhaling slowly, she was ready to direct the conversation down a more productive path. "Sorry, it's been… a busy year. A lot has changed." Her gaze raised to the park in front of her, which sported a shiny new playground. Last time she'd been to this park, it had been a deserted rustyard, but now, it was abustle with happy cubs and kits playing in the jungle-gym. "But at least Happytown is doing better."

"I know, right?" Harlan muttered. "I grew up here, and I can barely even recognize the place now," he chuckled. "Though maybe that's just cuz'a aging in general."

"It's amazing how much this place has changed in ten months," Judy remarked, allowing some happiness to fill her eyes. "It used to look like a total warzone. During the hunt for Al, there were cops everywhere, and protests filling the streets thanks to him. Now look at us! We're the only two squad cars here! Talk about a change."

The wolf grunted disapprovingly. "Too little too late, if you ask me. City-Hall has let Happytown rot for years. They've got a lot more to answer for than one stupid playground."

A somewhat tense silence settled over the three officers, that was, before an electronic beep pierced the air. Both Harlan and Judy plucked their radios from their holsters.

"All available Savanna-Central units, we have reports of shots fired off Flock Street." Clawhauser's voice informed.

"I'm on my way." Judy assured before revving her engine.

"Us too!" Mary piped into Harlan's radio before the wolf playfully yanked it away.

Judy looked to her subordinates with determination. "See you there." She said with a nod, and then drove off toward the city center, skyscrapers gleaming in the distance.

Arriving at the building, Judy's well-trained eyes performed a quick scan of the environment: the office building was relatively new and clean, and the streets had been cleared of civilians to set up a perimeter. One of the windows on the upper floors had been shot out, littering the sidewalks below with glass. Harlan and Mary arrived shortly, and together the trio ascended to the scene of the crime. The office itself was polished and professional. Judy wouldn't have imagined it to be a hazardous place were it not for the yellow police tape wrapping around the door, and the suited forensics team analyzing the room for clues. Officer Higgins nodded a hello before lifting the tape for them.

Harlan stepped inside, nose audibly sniffing into the air. "I'm picking up a lot of mixed scents. At least three - no, four - mammals have been in this room before us."

"Are those… bullet holes?" Mary timidly inquired, pointing toward a patchwork of splintered divots in the wooden floorboards.

"Yup. Semi-automatic pistols, from the looks of 'em," Higgins added, floor creaking beneath his considerable weight. It was a miracle the office was big enough to accommodate a fully grown hippopotamus. "Ballistics just got finished pullin' out the last of the bullets. Judging by the caliber, I'd bet we're dealin' with a medium to small perpetrator."

"Not just one," Judy muttered as she leaned down, examining the marks. "Some of these holes - they're different sizes. That means two weapons. Two perps; different species."

"So, four mammals, two guns, and no witnesses." The hippo grumbled. "Just our lucky day."

"Wrong again, Higgins," one of the forensics analysts - an otter in a white coverall and mask - interjected, pointing toward the back end of the office. "Three guns."

Following the analyst's finger, the newcomers all looked to the wall, where a sizable hole punctured straight through.

Officer Higgins rubbed at the back of his flabby neck. "I, uh, missed that one." He admitted. "Not my fault that hippos have bad eyesight."

Judy smiled. "You make an excellent perimeter guard, though. I'll handle this," she insisted as she walked up to the new hole. "Hmm. This one's a lot bigger than the others. Just one shot, too. Sniper rifle, if I had to guess."

Mary winced. "Criminals sure are dangerous, getting their paws on weapons like that."

"Well, that's what we're here for: to keep mammals capable of this off the streets. We're lucky the whole floor was empty when the shooting broke out." Higgins remarked.

"Wait, what?" Judy asked, turning to face her colleague. "The whole floor was empty? But it's the middle of the work week."

"Yup. That's what the manager said - that he was the only one here, several floors up. Heard a few shots, and a window breaking. We've got him outside for questioning."

The bunny furrowed her brow with thought. "I don't buy it. A whole floor empty during the middle of a crime? Something tells me this was premeditated."

"You think it was planned?" Harlan inquired. "Well I guess whoever they were trying to clip got away. Did you not find any bodies?"

"Nope. None at all." Higgins assured, hefting his belt with both hoofs. "Cameras were blanked out too."

"Yeah, this is definitely a case of conspiracy," Judy announced to the room. "I need all the financial documents for this entire building. I want to know who owns this place, if anyone rents this office, what banks they lease through, everything. Public Records should have them available for use, especially for an officer that asks nicely."

"I'm on it!" Harlan claimed. As he jogged out the door, he shouted, "You stay here with Officer Hopps, Mary! Be back soon!"

The ewe watched her partner as he ran off, leaving her in the office. Judy noted what seemed like a brief look of disappointment on her face. She pat Mary's shoulder.

"We'll look over the records once Harlan gets back. You and I can handle this," Judy encouraged. "When I was teaching your class at the academy last year, no one scored higher grades than you. It's like Nick said at your graduation: you're the smartest sheep in the flock. What do you see? What does this crime scene tell us, as cops?"

Mary straightened her spine at her superior's recognition. Her expression hardened with determination. "Okay!" She exhaled her apprehension away, focusing around the room. "Harlan said there were four mammals. And we established that there were three different guns." One of her hoofs gestured to the back end of the office. "All the bullets went that direction, so that means at least three of the mammals were trying to kill the other one. But there's no body, so whoever they were trying to kill got away. We don't have any camera evidence, and this is the only room we know with bullets in it, so… where'd the victim go?"

Pausing her explanation, Mary maneuvered around a few forensic analysts and then trotted over to the broken window. Judy silently watched her, letting the sheep put the pieces together. Mary admired the broken shards of glass littered across the floor, and a few red droplets staining the windowsill. She gasped as the revelation struck her.

"There's blood here! T-That means that the victim lept through the window!" She exclaimed.

Judy couldn't resist smiling. "Amazing work, Mary! Even I hadn't noticed the blood. Yet." She giggled, patting the sheep's shoulder again. "See? I bet Higgins couldn't have done that with his eyesight."

"Hey, I'm right here, ya know." The hippo grumbled, though not without a good-natured smile spreading his massive mouth. "Save the ribbing for Friday Game Nights."

Mary grinned back at her superior officers, beaming with pride. "T-Thank you!" She then turned to the window again. "But… if they jumped out the window, where's the body?"

Curious, Judy stepped forward and leaned through the shattered frame, staring down to the streets below. Not another speck of blood in sight.

"It's almost like they-"

"Flew away?" Mary guessed, interrupting Judy.

The bunny nodded. "Yeah," she gazed out the window at the sunny afternoon sky above, eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Weird."

---

12:00 P.M ; Savanna-Central...

On the edge of Downtown, a fox in a colorful button up shirt stood on the sidewalk outside a small café. Nick quirked a brow as he gazed upon the dilapidated neon caricature of a trembling wolf holding a cup of coffee, looking cartoonishly over-caffeinated.

"The Wired Puppy," he read the logo with some amusement. "Your pick for Communication's Director wants to meet here?"

Next to him, a meerkat stood in a sherbert pink business suit and skirt. "Yep," Samantha confirmed, popping the P. "Now come on, he's not the most patient of mammals and we're already late."

Though her words were a simple statement of fact, Nick still grumbled as they went for the door. Despite only being a few blocks from Samantha's office, his bad knee had slowed them down more than he was willing to admit. Saving his complaints for something more worthwhile, he followed Samantha toward the store. Nick wished that Judy could have been there with him, but alas, her work schedule didn't always leave room for such things. It seemed that some endeavors Nick would have to handle alone. But at least he had his trusty Campaign Manager accompanying him on this important mission. At the thought of the meerkat, he eyed her up and down.

"Do you have a suit for every color in the rainbow?" Nick asked teasingly.

"All except black," Samantha replied, dismissively waving one of her paws. "I'm done with that phase."

As they walked inside, a hyena barista with more nose, ear and lip piercings than Nick had ever seen called a half-hearted greeting from behind the counter. While Samantha went to order, Nick eyed the decor. The walls were a strange mishmash of dark colors and pastel shapes. Christmas lights and random trinkets like stuffed plush vegetables, model motorcycles and origami flowers hung from the ceiling. None of the chairs matched and a glance at a nearby table showed it was absolutely covered in someone's abstract poetry scrawled in brightly colored pen. Being early in the afternoon, business was slow, and only three tables were occupied.

Samantha was back shortly with a steaming cup in each paw. She led Nick to one of the occupied tables. An opossum with unusually dark black fur and a matching black bomber jacket sat busily typing into his laptop.

"Hey, Big O'!" Samantha called as she set her cups down and took a seat. "Long time no see!"

The opossum didn't look up from his work, or even slow his typing, as he replied, "I told you not to call me that."

"Oh, why not? It's a great nickname!"

The opossum's answering grunt was somewhere between noncommittal and disgusted.

Nick just smiled as he pulled out his own chair and sat down, quietly admiring the dynamic between the two.

"Right! Nick, this is Nathaniel O'Leary," Samantha cheerfully introduced. "Nathaniel, this is Nick Wilde!"

"Nice to meet you," Nick said politely.

"Uh-huh," Nathaniel replied blandly, still typing on his computer. Just as Nick began to wonder if they were going to do the whole interview this way, the opossum saved whatever document he was working on and closed his laptop. Nathaniel reached for his own cup of coffee, which was already quite low, and downed what was left. Afterward, he stared into the empty mug with a frown before resting his paws atop his rumpled blue jeans.

"So, Nathaniel," Samantha began. While she talked, she pushed her fresh, untouched cup across the table toward the dark-furred marsupial. "We wanted to talk to you about a job opportunity."

Said marsupial eyed the offering speculatively for a moment. Then he reached out and slid it closer. "You can call me Niel."

Samantha smiled, pleased. "Niel, you're a talented writer, and quite the political activist. Your articles, for all their bluntness, are eloquent and very well thought out."

"You think so?" Niel questioned between sips of his steaming beverage. "Even the one I wrote about you?"

Nick quirked a brow, quite curious about the contents of said article.

"Especially the one about me," Samantha didn't hesitate to say. "Even though you weren't flattering, you were thorough, truthful, and fair, which is leagues better than most political writers."

"Uh-huh," Niel said slowly. He swished his cup about and stared down into the dark, whirling liquid. "You mentioned a job?"

"That's right," Samantha nodded and indicated Nick with a wave of her paw. "Are you familiar with Nick Wilde?"

"Of course I am," Niel scoffed. "Supercop. Helped expose the Bellwether Conspiracy, not to mention involved with wiping out half the crime families in Zootopia. Forced to retire due to injury last year."

Nick's eye twitched at the mention of his retirement, but his smile didn't waver as he said, "I'm flattered."

"Don't be," Niel added gruffly. "I actually looked into you. I know you had a past before you were a cop. Some real shady stuff, but nothing stuck. At least, not that anyone can prove."

"Yeah, well, growing up in Happytown will do that to you," Nick said lightly, not determined to show any weakness around this clearly seasoned researcher. "Gotta make ends meet to survive in a place like that."

"Plenty of honest folk in Happytown," Niel countered. "Ninety-nine percent predator population, eighty percent of them below the poverty line, and only twenty percent have criminal records."

Nick folded his paws on the table. "That's actually why I'm here. As a cop, I could help those honest folk every day. Even though I've been forced to retire, I still want to help those mammals. I believe I can do that best by representing them as mayor of Zootopia."

Niel's dark brown eyes rose from his cup to stare into Nick's greens. Nick resisted the urge to shiver as he was struck by the impression that the sharp intellect behind those eyes was trying to dissect him. "Is that so?" Niel asked mildly.

"That's right," Nick said boldly. "We're putting together a campaign. And I want your help."

Niel hummed thoughtfully. Slowly, deliberately, he brought his cup up and took another sip of the dark brew. As he did, his gaze flicked back and forth between Nick and Samantha, watching them both thoughtfully. Finally, he put his cup back down and asked, "What would you want from me? Write you a flattering article? Maybe a hit piece on your competition?"

Though Niel's voice was mild, Nick got the impression that was a mask. The opossum seemed to take his craft very, very seriously, and Nick felt that if he wasn't careful, they wouldn't just lose Niel as a Communication's Director, they might actually make an enemy.

Samantha sensed this too, and jumped to respond. "Nothing like that!" She vehemently denied. "We actually want you to join the campaign. We're looking for a Communication's Director - someone to make ads, talk to reporters, plan conferences, et cetera - and I believe you're a good fit for what we're looking for."

It was a subtle change, one that the average observer might have missed, but Nick's shrewd gaze picked up on several changes. Niel's eyes widened slightly, his round ears perked just a tad, and his back straightened ever so minutely. For the first time since the conversation began, it seemed they had the eccentric writer's undivided attention.

Niel stared at Samantha, then at Nick. "Me? You want me? Why? I've never done anything like that before."

"That's actually partly why we want you in particular," Samantha began to explain. "Nick is an absolute unknown when it comes to politics. That means it's very likely that this campaign is going to have to go far on few donations. We can't afford a more experienced CD."

Brows furrowed as Niel considered Samantha's words. "Kind of blunt way to put it, don't you think?"

Samantha smiled, apologetic. "Sorry, I don't mean to offend, but I want to be straight with you. No double meanings, flowery words, or any of that other mumbo jumbo. Just the truth. And the truth is, we're the underdogs. We need any and all help that we can get."

Niel mulled that over for a moment, before looking at Nick. "What about you? You okay with that? With me on the inside? I could learn things. Write things. Things you don't want mammals to know. It might even damage your campaign."

Expression completely serious, Nick leaned forward to stare intently into Niel's eyes, trying to impress the sincerity of his words. "I intend to build and run my campaign with total and complete transparency. I'm going to serve the citizens of Zootopia, not become another corrupt politician relying on backroom deals with the corrupt just to get into office." He paused for a moment, remembering Judy's encouragement yesterday about doing things the right way. Nick knew that if he couldn't hold himself to those standards, then he might as well have failed in his goal already. "You say if I do anything immoral, you'll expose me? Good. I want you to. If we're gonna prove ourselves as different from the others, we'll need accountability. And from just two minutes of talking with you, I literally can't think of anyone better suited for the job."

Niel stared again, long and thoughtful. He first stared at Nick, searchingly, then at Samantha. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find, because he slumped as though in defeat. "Oh, alright. But I'll be watching, you know. I won't let things slide just because. You're probably not gonna like me much." He warned.

Nick smiled and held out his paw. "I look forward to proving you wrong."

With a grim smile that seemed to say, 'I tried to tell you,' Niel reached forward and clasped the offered paw.

After a firm shake, they separated and leaned back in their seats. Still smiling, Nick asked, "So, still think I'm that same shady fox from before?"

Niel hummed thoughtfully before replying. "Maybe. Maybe not. I'll reserve judgement."

Nick nodded agreeably. "Fair enough."

"So!" Samantha cut in, smiling brightly. "When can you start?"

A short while later, all three exited the shop. Niel and Samantha led the way, with the latter talking animatedly, explaining everything about the campaign and its circumstances to Niel as he jotted down notes in a black journal. Nick hung back, perfectly willing to let his Campaign Manager do the talking. When his smartphone began to ring, he pulled it out and smiled at the caller ID. Samantha paused when she noticed, but he waved her off as he accepted the call and spoke into the device.

"Hey, Mom!"

"Hello, sweetheart," Olivia Wilde's slightly weathered but still sweet voice answered. "Your text said you had said something important to talk about. Is everything alright?"

"Oh, sure, Mom. Everything's just fine. You know that little project I've been talking about?"

"I'd hardly call becoming mayor of Zootopia a little project!" Olivia laughed.

"Guess it's just a matter of perspective," Nick quipped. "But, you see, I've actually gotten started. Got a Campaign Manager and everything. Even have my first big endorsement."

"Really?" Olivia gasped with awe. "That's amazing! Why haven't you told me?"

"It's only been the last couple days that this has all really taken off," Nick explained. "Sorry for not calling sooner, but I've been busy."

"Well, that's wonderful news!" she cheered. "As if becoming Zootopia's first fox officer, and saving me from a crime-lord wasn't enough. You just keep outdoing yourself. I'm so proud of you."

Nick's smile grew into an almost abashed grin. "Thanks, Mom. Actually, speaking of the campaign, I could really use your help on something. I admit, it'll probably be a handful, but it's for a good cause, and it won't be something you'll have to do forever."

"Sure, dear. What do you need?"

"Well, you see," Nick began. "An official campaign has this thing called a Chairmammal…"

---

6:00 P.M ; Two days later, Grand Palm Hotel, Sahara-Square...

The event they had spent days preparing for was finally here: The police ball. The group of Nick, Judy, Samantha, and Olivia paused as they approached the Grand Palm Hotel, staring up at the towering golden structure with awe. Its massive artificial fronds blocked out a quarter of the rosy evening sky, glittering with the lights of the casinos below.

"I still can't get over how tall this thing is," Judy commented. Ready for this auspicious night, she wore a tight fitting purple dress, the fabric accentuating her well-structured hips while still modestly covering her fur.

"Neither can I," Olivia agreed. She sported a more conservative dress with loose, flowing fabric of bright green, which brought out her red fur and complimented her eyes. A simple white wrap covered her shoulders and she carried a matching green tote. "I never imagined I'd find myself in a place as luxurious as this!"

"It is pretty amazing," Nick admired. He had a somewhat baggy beige jacket and slacks, a green button up, and a rich purple tie and pocket square that matched Judy's dress.

"Yep!" Samantha spouted, resplendent in a bright orange skirt and jacket combo, with a matching purse. "Now c'mon! We don't wanna be late!"

As she began herding them along, Nick snarked, "Late? We're nearly an hour early!"

"It's never too early to schmooze!" Samantha shot back. "And you need the practice."

Nick looked a little offended at the implication. "I'll have you know I'm a fantastic schmoozer! I once talked my way into a Gazelle concert by convincing the guards I was one of her makeup artists."

He shot Judy a look when she snorted, and then his mother when she muttered, "Oh, dear…"

Samantha just laughed. "We'll save that story for another time. But you should definitely flex those social skills while we're here! If what the Union President told us is true, the campaign might be publicly announced as early as tonight! We've all gotta be on our A-game!"

They were early enough that the queue to get in was short, and it only took a few minutes to get through. The four stopped once again to admire the sparkling hall covered in glittering crystals and brightly shining lights. Gilded wallpaper and potted palm trees lined the massive halls, tall and wide enough to support mammals of any size. It was even more resplendent than the building's exterior.

Samantha recovered first, and turned to the other three. "Okay, remember what we talked about?"

"If asked a question, no matter what it is, answer in short, clear phrases," Olivia answered like she had the phrase memorized, which after how many times it had been drilled into her head, was absolutely the case.

"If you're not sure what the answer is, don't make one up. Say: I'll get back to you on that." Judy piped up in similar fashion.

"And think long and hard before you agree with anything." Nick finished.

Samantha smiled, looking pleased. "Very good! Now, let's find our table, drop off our bags, then we can get to mingling…"

They decided to move as a group, partly so Nick and Judy could introduce Samantha and Olivia to their comrades, partly so Samantha could watch the others and offer critiques on their mingling skills. It was an important skill for aspiring politicians to have, after all, and Samantha was happy to advise. The four of them strolled the banquet hall among crowds of varying sizes, from rhino officers in massive suits to tiny mice and voles from the Little Rodentia precinct. Some mingled among the refreshments tables, while others practiced their waltzing on the glossy wood dance floor. In the back of the hall, a raised stage stood with a podium, likely awaiting some important announcement to be made.

They had only said hello to a few familiar faces from the various precincts before a deep, familiar voice called out to them in a dulcet tone. "Mr. Wilde! Ms. Diallo!"

The group turned as one to see a massive bison walking toward them. His earthy brown suit and bolo tie matched his thick, curly chestnut fur. His dark eyes and short, curved horns were nearly swallowed up by the thick crest of fur atop his head.

"Mr. Redhorn!" Samantha called back with a bright smile. "It's so good to finally meet you face-to-face!"

"I couldn't agree more," the bison rumbled in his thick accent, smiling wide enough to show his large, square teeth. He reached down and held out a hoof in greeting. The massive size difference meant it took both of Samantha's paws just to reach around one of the hoof-tipped fingers, but she shook it with gusto. Nick's smile and greeting were more sedated, but no less genuine. Then the massive bison turned to Judy. "Sergeant Hopps. It's an honor to meet you. I've followed your career with great interest."

Like Samantha, Judy wrapped one hoof-tipped finger with both paws, but she didn't shake it with quite as much enthusiasm. "Thank you, sir. And it's an honor to meet our Union President. You do a lot of good representing us all." She nodded to him in acknowledgement.

Redhorn returned the nod. "Thank you, officer. I do my best. Now, who is this?" He turned his attention to Olivia.

"This is Olivia Wilde. Our newly appointed campaign Chairmammal." Samantha introduced.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Redhorn." Olivia purred, delicately shaking the proffered hoof.

"And you as well, ma'am," Redhorn said with respectful nod. "Please, call me Joseph."

He was just straightening up when another, even deeper and more familiar voice called out, pulling the whole group's attention away.

"Redhorn! Feels like years! Or is that just wishful thinking?" Bogo called as he approached, cutting an imposing figure in a bulky tuxedo.

"That's the senility kicking in," Redhorn shot back in friendly mockery. "You should spend less time in the gym and more in the library."

Bogo boomed a laugh as he pulled one of his beefy arms back. Redhorn mirrored the gesture by raising his own equally impressive limb. The two swung, and their hoofs met between them with a meaty thump. The two gripped hard, staring the other in the eye and grinning savagely. Their biceps bulged until it seemed they would burst from their clothes. Slowly, Redhorn's arm was pushed to the side.

"What's the matter, Joseph? Too much time behind that desk of yours?" Bogo mocked.

Redhorn's smile never faltered, even as he snorted. The movement of their combined hooves ground to a halt, then slowly reversed as Bogo was pushed back.

"What's the matter, Thelonius?" Redhorn mocked right back. "Gettin' old or something?"

The group of four smaller mammals were staring at the interaction with varying degrees of interest. Whatever they were watching seemed friendly, but was also quite intense. Nick leaned over to whisper to Judy, "Think they even remember we're here?"

"I don't think they even remember where they are." Judy replied with a smirk.

This drew the attention of the dueling bovines. The two glanced over, then back to each other. With a smile and nod, they relaxed their crushing grips and pulled apart.

Joseph spoke first. "Sorry about that. Old partners can't help old habits."

Judy's eyes widened. "Wait, you two were partners?"

"That was a long time ago. I wasn't always the Chief of Police," Bogo replied before thumping Redhorn's shoulder. "We'll consider that a draw, then. We have more important matters to deal with."

"I would hope so," A new, gruffer voice announced. "Otherwise I'd have dressed up for nothing."

Nick instinctively winced, recognizing the voice, but Judy only smiled warmly at the sight of a coyote in a simple black suit approaching the crowd. His typically scraggly fur had been neatly combed, and the only indication that this was in fact the Chief of Sahara-Square's Precinct Three was the cowboy hat perched atop his head.

"You call that outfit dressing up, Jesse?" Bogo joked, gesturing to the suit-and-hat combo. "You look like you walked off a farm."

The coyote scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. "I don't judge you, do I?"

"Yes you do." Both Bogo and Redhorn said in unison.

Nick allowed himself a chuckle. Back when he was a cop, he wouldn't have dared suggested feeling any humor at Chief Latran's misfortune, given how stern and unforgiving that coyote had proven himself to be, but now that Nick wasn't on anyone's payroll anymore, he figured he could laugh at whoever he wanted. Still, Nick was willing to give the coyote the benefit of the doubt, even if he had tried to get him and Judy fired on several occasions. After all, the three of them had worked together in the raid that brought down Al Catpone last year, and Judy's insistence several days ago about Jesse's apparently improved demeanor toward her was something he could put some trust in.

"How's the job been, Chief?" Nick asked the coyote with a relaxed smile. "I haven't seen you since you visited me in the hospital."

Jesse momentarily glanced to Nick's right leg - an action that didn't escape the fox's observation. "Job's been peachy," he claimed. "Plenty to keep busy with. Nocturnal-Mob's been pushin' more into Sahara-Square over the past few months, but there hasn't been any violence. Al, and all those other crime-lords you took down left a big vacuum for the rest to fill. It's a miracle total chaos hasn't broke out yet. Speaks for how friendly the bosses must be with each other. But we'll get 'em one day, that's for sure."

The fox shot him with a finger gun. "No doubts there! You've got plenty of top cops on the job, including this one." He said as he bumped Judy's shoulder with his elbow.

"We'll let you catch up with your colleagues," Samantha quickly spoke into Nick's ear. "See you at the announcements!"

At that, the meerkat strolled off along with Olivia, who waved at the pack of officers before departing toward the refreshments tables. Joseph cleared his throat.

"Speaking of," Redhorn rumbled. "I've got some prepping to do. Excuse me, officers." The other's all bid him a quick, polite farewell as he turned and walked off in the direction of the stage.

"It's great to see all of you," Judy insisted in spite of the thinning crowd, eyes bright with admiration toward so many renowned cops. "Is Chief Myreme here too?"

Bogo nodded toward the edge of the dance floor, singling out an anteater in an impeccably clean tuxedo, complete with a plump rose pinned on his chest and a crisp black bowtie hanging from his throat. Chief Myreme was slyly smiling as he chatted with another anteater, this one being a female in a frilly pink dress. Both laughed softly.

"Over there, flirting with that forensic accountant from Precinct Two," the cape-buffalo remarked before snorting with disapproval. "I swear… take that mammal out of the office for five minutes and he turns into a complete casanova."

"Well, if I had a voice and accent like his, I'd probably make the most of it too." Jesse grumbled. Nick couldn't help noticing the cigarette pack bulging in his breast pocket.

Another snort tore through Bogo's thick nostrils. "Never mind him. Hopps, I'm curious if you've made any progress on that case with the shooting out of Savanna-Central."

Judy furrowed her brow with irritation. "It's a bit of a mystery. I sent Officer Harlan to get the financial records of that building where the crime occurred, but that was two days ago. For some reason, Public Records is taking their sweet time getting the documents ready for us. I don't like it. Makes me think they're trying to hide something."

"Give it time," Jesse encouraged. "They can be real slowpokes on a good day. Meanwhile, what I'm curious over are these political aspirations I keep hearin' about regardin' you, Wilde. I walked into Precinct Three the other day and saw about half a million fliers flauntin' your name, sayin' somethin' about a mayoral petition. What's with that?"

Nick shrugged nonchalantly. "Just looking for a new job, you could say. You can thank Carrots here for the fliers. Those were her idea."

Judy beamed at the recognition, perked up a bit with joy. "Yep! Though I never imagined they'd spread that far! We didn't even stop by Precinct Three."

"Sounds like a success to me." Nick said, trying to ignore the temptation to stare at his wife's figure as she bounced excitedly in place.

The coyote chuckled dryly. "You're full of surprises, Wilde." He jutted his chin toward Samantha and Olivia at the nearby punch table. "They part of that grand plan too?"

"That's right. That traffic-cone of a meerkat over there is my Campaign Manager, and the vixen's my mom, helping with the committee. We have a fifth, but he didn't wanna come," Nick explained, thinking of Niel's grimacing face. "Something tells me he doesn't like crowds that much."

Bogo was about to make a statement when Joseph Redhorn's voice filled the air, cutting him off. "Evening, everyone! May I have your attention please?"

The lights were dimmed, save one beaming directly over the podium atop the stage. Joseph stood in the spotlight, ready with a stack of notecards.

"Brothers, sisters, comrades-in-arms, fellow protectors of peace and justice, it is good to see you," the bison greeted in his deep, lilting southern drawl. "I know we are all ready to eat and dance, so I won't waste your time with a long-winded speech. I'll keep it brief: Zootopia has made incredible progress this last year! Multiple crime families have been taken apart, a major conspiracy against the government was foiled, and through it all our great city has been made a safer place! Now, I could stand here and sing the ZPD's praises till I was blue in the face, but then we'd be here all night. What's important is you, Zootopia's finest, have not only met the call of duty, but utterly surpassed it! Officers of Zootopia, you embody honor, valor, and sacrifice! I salute you!"

Putting action to words, Redhorn drew himself up and snapped a salute so perfect it would have made a drill sergeant weep tears of joy. The crowd erupted in applause, at least those that weren't saluting back. After a long pause to let the enthusiastic clapping die down, Redhorn relaxed his stance and leaned back toward the microphone.

"Now, just a few announcements before we can get to the good stuff," he said, raising his notecards. "Let's see… we'll start with notable retirements. Captain Boarld Amundsen, thirty five years of service to Tundratown's Precinct Two-"

Nick's attention migrated to the mammals around him as the speech went on. He smiled as he scanned over the faces of Judy, Samantha, and his mother, all here to support him in what was quickly becoming the most ambitious undertaking of his entire life. The thought that his path to City-Hall would truly begin tonight was as sobering as it was exciting. Regardless of what happened, Nick knew that after the endorsement announcement, there would be no turning back. But with mammals like the ones that stood alongside him now, he had a feeling that everything would work out soundly.

Back on stage, Redhorn finished with retirements and moved on to the next topic. "Now, for some happier news: promotions!"

Bogo leaned over and whispered to Judy, "Pay attention."

Judy's ears shot up straight, and she stared at her boss with surprise, only looking away when he pointed toward the stage. Nick noticed the exchange, but didn't catch the words. He quirked an eyebrow at his wife when he saw her stare intensely at the stage, seemingly hanging onto Redhorn's every word.

The first few names came and went, but then the moment came. "And, finally, one of our most dedicated young officers, one who has proven without a doubt that the size of one's body matters less than the strength of one's spirit: Judy Hopps! Lieutenant of Precinct One!"

Raucous cheering erupted throughout the room as officers from all over the city clapped and hooted and hollered their appreciation. Before the shocked Judy knew what was happening, her husband had swept her up into his arms.

"I'm so proud of you!" Nick had to nearly shout in her ear to be heard over the noise of dozens of nearby comrades shouting their congratulations. Placing her back on her feet, Nick bent down and kissed his wife, causing the crowd to erupt again with cheers and whistles. Following a period of surprise, Judy grabbed Nick's jacket and pulled him even closer, deepening the kiss. After a moment, the two pulled apart. Flushed, smiling, and panting, they stared into each other's eyes, momentarily lost in their own little world.

The moment passed. The two glanced around at all the smiling faces surrounding them, and then back to one another. Nick jutted his chin toward the crowd.

"Glad I can do that without worrying about fraternization laws now." Nick quipped, earning a laugh from his wife. "I've still got my thing to do later. Why don't you see to your adoring fans?"

Judy smirked, violet eyes glimmering with sensual promise, letting him know she would reward him later. Then she nodded her head and pulled away to greet her many well-wishers. "Hey, guys! I had no idea, I swear…"

Nick watched her disappear into the excited crowd with a genuine, yet bittersweet smile. Truly, he was happy for his wife. He just wished he could still be by her side. Climbed the steps with her to the top. She was going to have Bogo's job one day, he was sure, and Nick kind of always figured he'd be one of her Captains, supporting her every day while they fought the good fight. But now, that wasn't the case any longer. Real life was never as simple as dreams and aspirations made it out to be, as his untimely injury had proved. They might end up at the same place, in the end, but they would have to take different paths to get there. That much was certain by this point. But Nick could live with this. Judy's success and happiness was all that mattered to him.

Once the noise settled to a dull roar, Redhorn continued.

"Now, this next subject is bothersome at the best of times, but it is still important for the Union and the ZPD, and must be dealt with. That subject: politics." The room groaned and jeered. Redhorn grimaced right along with them, looking like he quite agreed. "I know, I know. We've had some bad luck, lately. Lionheart, while not exactly malicious, sure did fumble the ball. The less said about Bellwether, the better. Even Lyncoln is on the way out. Makes you wish a cop could be mayor, doesn't it? At least then some good might come out of City-Hall for the first time in a while, huh?"

Some in the crowd cheered their agreement, and Redhorn smiled, pointing a meaty arm at a random mammal in the pack of partygoers before him.

"I'm glad you agree! Now, we have that very opportunity. One of your fellow officers, forced by injury to retire from active duty, has taken it upon themselves to continue the noble cause of serving the public by seeking the office of mayor and taking City-Hall back for the mammals of Zootopia! Everyone, please welcome the Police Union's choice for mayor to the stage: Nicholas Wilde!"

A spotlight fell upon Nick while the crowd once again erupted into cheers. After a few rapid blinks to adjust to the intense brightness, Nick smiled, waved to the crowd and began the trek to the stage, suffering through dozens of well-wishers shaking his paw and slapping him on the back. Somewhere in the chaos, he could have sworn he heard Judy's voice cheering a bit louder than the others. It took nearly a minute, but he finally made it up the stairs and to the dias. At his arrival, Redhorn flipped a set of steps out from under the podium and stood back, allowing Nick to ascend and look out among the partygoers. He saw faces familiar and unknown, from former ZPD colleagues to a few news cameras that had been set up at the back of the room.

Nick resisted the urge to swallow. Samantha had warned him that tonight would finally be the night that his campaign was announced to the city, but it still felt a bit surreal. All of Zootopia would know of his goals come tomorrow afternoon. Whether or not that was a good thing remained to be seen. But the fox knew that the next step to achieving them started with this. As he gazed out at the crowd, he was quick to spot Judy smiling warmly back at him through the sea of faces. Her look of pride was all he needed to know that this was the right path forward. It all took less than a second, and just as quickly, the fox knew what he had to say.

"Hey hey, everyone!" Nick greeted with a charming smile. "Now, most of you know me from my time as a cop at Precinct One, but for those of you not familiar, my name is Nicholas Wilde. But please, call me Nick. You know, I never expected to become an officer. Growing up, I embodied the worst of the shifty fox stereotype. I truly thought I would never amount to anything more. Then, one day, I met this crazy rabbit cop." Nick found Judy in the crowd again, and their gazes met. They looked deeply into each other's eyes, like there wasn't any distance between them at all. "And she taught me the true meaning of anyone can be anything. She taught me to hope again. To strive. To dream. So, I joined the ZPD. That was about five years ago, and I was on active duty for a little over four years." There was a smattering of polite applause and a few shouts from close friends. Nick smiled and nodded graciously, then continued. "I've since moved on from the force, but those four years are easily the highlight of my life. I worked with some of the smartest, bravest, noblest mammals I have ever had the pleasure to know. You, all of you-" Nick steadily moved his gaze across the room, meeting as many eyes as he could, "-taught me the true meaning of pride, perseverance, and honor. I'm a better fox now - a better mammal - than I ever could have been without you. Thank you, truly."

The crowd applauded again, louder this time. Nick smiled and let it pass, then pushed on.

"That is why I'm campaigning for mayor of Zootopia. I want to repay the lessons that it has taught me. I want to serve Zootopia, but not just serve it. I want to make it better. Better for the citizens, and better for you. We've had it hard these last few years. There's been a lot of chaos, a lot of crime. I've seen the worst that this city has to offer - I grew up in the slums of Happytown, where the city's Prioritization Policy has shown its true colors. My time on the force introduced me to criminals from throughout Zootopia more concerned with power and profit than the innocent mammals they trampled to get it. And many politicians have been worse! I've seen corruption, coverups, lies, and broken promises every step of the way. But I believe that Zootopia can be so much more than any of that. It's time for a change. It's time we made things better!" Nick thumped the podium with an open palm for emphasis, letting his true passions on the subject flow free. "Government sanctioned discrimination against predators has created a steady supply of desperate criminals! Then that same government orders cops like us to risk our lives to deal with those desperate mammals, cleaning up messes they created. Zootopia's Prioritization Policy has only added fuel to the fire, carving entire chunks of the city into criminal hotbeds by withholding funding and infrastructure for the primary districts. And through it all the government hides conspiracies against its own citizens. No more!" Nick shouted with another thump to the podium, and grabbed the microphone with one paw. "Predator rights! A total reformation of the Prioritization Policy! Total and complete transparency of government! I promise you, when I'm mayor, the government of Zootopia will serve all citizens, and work tirelessly to keep you, our heroes, safe! Support me, and the ZPD will have not just a friend, but a partner, in City-Hall!"

The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers and applause. Francine the elephant trumpeted into the air, wolf officers howled with glee, and even Chief Bogo clapped politely, though his expression implied he didn't fully agree with everything Nick had said. But the fox barely noticed, far less cared, as he was swept up in the excitement. Things grew a little blurry for Nick after that. After thanking the Police Union, he stepped down off the stage into a whirl of smiling faces, friendly pawshakes, and loud congratulations. It was soon too much, and the fox made use of his skills learned hustling on the streets to slip away without anyone noticing.

After a bit of wandering, he found himself on a public balcony overlooking Sahara-Square. It had grown dark, and the city was a sparkling landscape of dark silhouettes and neon lights. There were several lounge chairs positioned to take advantage of the view and he gratefully sank down into one, propping up his aching knee with a sigh. He relaxed beneath the stars for a few minutes, that was, until he heard the sound of the balcony doors opening behind. At first, Nick thought it was Judy, following to check on him. He was pleasantly surprised to see Samantha peeking around the corner instead, holding a champagne glass in each paw.

"Saw you slink off here when no one was looking," she said, taking a few steps closer. "Is everything okay?"

The fox smirked, but there was little humor in his eyes. "I had to step away from the grip-and-grins, just for a bit. Get some air, you know?"

"Funny, you normally thrive in environments like that. Not exactly assuring me that everything's okay." Samantha noted.

"I'm fine. I guess it's just finally hitting me," Nick admitted, leaning onto his back and looking up at the stars. "I'm really gonna run for mayor. The endorsement, the campaign, the positions - it's all coming together. I've… actually got a chance." His gaze turned toward Samantha, complete with a grateful smile. "And it's all thanks to you."

A slight chuckle broke through the meerkat's muzzle. She seated herself next to Nick on the rooftop, and set one of the champagne glasses down on a small table between them. "Don't thank me too much. I'm just doing my job, and helping out an old friend."

"Sure, but… I still can't thank you enough. I only wish I felt better about that speech… It was kind of improvised."

Another smile tugged at Samantha's lips. "I thought you did pretty well. This is a huge step forward. Although next time, you might wanna use the cards Niel made you."

Jerking up in surprise, Nick slapped his breast pocket, then pulled out the short stack of note cards inside. He blinked at them before barking a self deprecating laugh and slapping them down on the side table next to his glass. "I totally forgot that Niel made me a speech. For a second I just forgot everything. I was just in the zone, you know? I mean, geez, my paws are still shaking!" He held them out and sure enough, they shook like the proverbial leaves. "I've always considered myself a smooth talker, but making speeches to huge crowds like that? Something else entirely. Is it always gonna be this hard?"

"Not at all. You'll get used to it. After a while, it'll be completely natural."

"Really?"

"Really really."

Nick settled back with another sigh. "That's good…" For a few minutes they just sipped their drinks and stared out over Sahara-Square in companionable silence. Eventually, the fox admitted, "I'm a bit concerned about the campaign - what it could mean for us."

"Don't worry. Most first timers feel that way. You'll get through."

These words did not seem to comfort the fox. A troubled expression fell over his features, and he stared down and fiddled with his nearly empty bottle.

Samantha noticed. She sat up and asked, "Nick? What's wrong?"

"Since this is happening - really, really happening…" Nick shut his eyes and grimaced like he tasted something rotten. "I need to tell you something. I…" He opened his eyes and looked at Samantha, remembering Judy's words the other day about his past catching up to him. "After high school, I fell in with a bad crowd. I did… some things. Bad things." The fox's speech was choppy and broken, showing how difficult it was for him to speak of the subject. He even had trouble holding her gaze: his eyes darted away and back to hers every few seconds as he spoke. "Things that, if they came out, would definitely ruin a campaign and maybe… maybe even the careers of those involved."

Samantha sat up, her face suddenly a sharp, professional mask. She stared at him, considering. Nick could tell she wasn't pleased that he had kept this from her. He opened his mouth to break the tense silence, but Samantha reached out and tapped his nose, none-too-gently. "Shush."

Nick stared at her like she'd lost her mind. Samantha turned her head and indicated the door with her eyes before turning them back to Nick. It only took Nick a second to understand her message: someone could be listening.

"I'm going to assume…" Samantha began, slowly and deliberately. "That since they let you become a cop, that whatever it was, it's not as bad you're making it out to be."

When Nick tried to object, she held her paw out, threatening to thump his nose again. Nick's mouth snapped shut with a click of teeth.

"Whatever it was," Samantha continued. "I know it couldn't erase the good you've done as a police officer, and it won't erase the good you're going to do as mayor."

"But, Sammy, your career…"

Samantha held up a paw again, non-threatening this time, but Nick still quieted. "I've made my decision. Come what may, as long as you do the best you can for the mammals of this city, I'll be satisfied. Can you promise me that?"

With all the gravitas he could muster, Nick looked her in the eye and nodded. "I promise I'll do my best."

Leaning forward, Samantha placed her paw on Nick's arm and squeezed. "That's all anyone can ask."

Samantha offered Nick a supportive smile, and Nick managed to return a thankful one of his own. At that moment, the door behind them opened, causing the two to look up. It was Judy, and she lit up when she saw them both. "There you are! Nick, I've been looking all over for you!"

Nick offered one of his usual smiles. "Sorry, Carrots. I was a little overwhelmed after the big speech. Sammy here was coaching me."

Judy frowned minutely. "I know how bad public speaking can be." She shivered at the memory of trying to address those reporters during the Nighthowler case. "Ugh, just thinking about it makes me want to puke. Feel better now?"

Nick smiled fondly at his wife. "Now that you're here."

Judy smiled and sashayed over to her husband. She placed a paw on his shoulder for support and leaned over him. "Sappy fox, aren't you?" She teased.

Nick's eyes were half lidded as he stared up into her beautiful violet gaze. He could tell that she'd had more than a few glasses of champagne. "Ah, you know you love me."

"Oh my gosh, you two! Get a room!" Samantha joked as she stood up from her lounger.

The two looked over at her, then back at each other. Nick quirked a brow. "You know, I think I heard that the Palm is offering a discount on rooms for police tonight."

Judy quirked a brow right back. "I think I heard that, too."

"Oh my double gosh!" Samantha cried, throwing her arms up in disgust. "It was a figure of speech! Both of you, but especially Nick, need to get back in there and do some more schmoozing! Now that the campaign's official official, we need to make a good first impression!"

Nick and Judy laughed at Samantha's discomfort even as Judy helped Nick up from his chair. Nick wrapped an arm about Judy's shoulders, Judy wrapped an arm about his waist, and the two drew each other close as they followed the excitable meerkat back to the party. As they went, Judy looked up at him and asked, "Say, think when you're done schmoozing, you could spare a dance?"

Nick smiled down at her. "For my favorite bunny in all the world? I may even spare two."

---

The seeds of the war have been planted, and Judy is beginning to put the puzzle pieces together. Fun stuff! By the way, Peter Ishini was made and is owned by my good friend Berserker88, so special credit to him for letting me borrow his character here! Although you can be sure that Peter's past with Lucy will be fleshed out more in this story, of course, if you'd like to see them in action during their heyday, feel free to check out MindJack's story, Bloodlines, which I co-author along with Berserker88. It's a spinoff prequel that details Lucy's past, and how she became the bat she is today. Feel free to give it a look if you're interested!

Not much else to say on this chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it! The 4th chapter, "Headway and Hardship" will be released soon! It'll be shorter than this one, I promise. Stay tuned. :)