Chapter 12-Lift-off

"Pawcuffing tactics," announced Friedkin. Hunter stifled a groan. He'd hated this part of the academy in First Landing. Nothing but cuffing and uncuffing your fellow cadets, for hours on end.

She pointed at Eland. "Cadet Eland."

The cadet stiffened to attention. "Ma'am."

"How would you cuff a mouse?"

"I wouldn't, ma'am," said Eland crisply. "They're too small. Procedure is to place them in a cage for transport."

Hunter blinked. "Really?"

Unfortunately, this caught Friedkin's attention. "Hunter."

"Yes, major?"

"How would you cuff a polar bear?"

He eyed her. "Very carefully, probably after a few stiff drinks."

She sighed. "Cadet Hunter, this is serious."

"Is it? Because I think you just suggested I try to paw-cuff a polar bear." He gestured at her. "You're huge."

There was a sudden, uncomfortable silence. Friedkin slowly raised an eyebrow at him.

Hunter grimaced. "I mean in comparison to a human-"

"All right, Cadet Hunter." She turned around, placing her paws behind her back. "Let's see what you got."

Muttering under his breath, Hunter selected the appropriate size paw-cuffs from one of his cases. He slowly approached Friedkin- then stopped. "You know, I'd have back-up for this," he said.

Friedkin frowned at him over her shoulder. "Pretend you don't."

"Oh, okay." He stuck his hands in his pockets and started rocking back and forth on his feet.

The major gave him a puzzled look. "Hunter, what are you doing?"

"Waiting for back-up."

"Will you just put the cuffs on?" she snapped.

"Fine, fine." Cautiously, he approached her. She was in the Academy-approved stance for prisoners- paws behind her back, head turned to one side. He approached from the side she wasn't watching from- a tactic designed to keep her from seeing his approach. Ideally, it would mean the cuffs going on would be a surprise.

Just as he was about to reach the major, he saw her tense, ever so slightly. He immediately back-pedaled. Several of the cadets- most notably McHorn- snickered.

Friedkin turned, exasperated. "Hunter, will you just-" she blinked as she realized he wasn't where she thought he was.

There was a snick of metal on metal, and she held up her left paw in confusion. A handcuff dangled from it- she whipped around. Hunter was standing several yards away already, however, with her between him and the cadets.

He grinned. "Well, half-way there."

"You dodged around me when I turned," she said, surprised. "That's pretty sneaky."

"Not half as sneaky as this," he said. Her free paw was suddenly yanked behind her and, before she could react, the other end of the dangling cuffs tightened around her wrist.

Friedkin blinked and looked over her shoulder to see Cadet Tibbs, the warthog, backing away nervously.

"Told you I'd have back-up," said Hunter smugly.

For a long moment, Friedkin eyed him, then she shrugged. "Well, I can't deny it worked," she said. "But for now on you use our techniques, Hunter. Not whatever you make up on the fly." She turned and raised her cuffed paws. "Now unlock these."

Hunter, clearly quite pleased with himself, sauntered up and casually unlocked the cuffs. As soon as one was off, Friedkin spun and kicked his legs out from under him.

The human went down, the breath knocked out of him in the fall. He tried to get up but found a massive paw on his chest.

"You're dead, Hunter." Friedkin regarded him impassively, then turned to look at the suddenly very silent cadets. "What did Cadet Hunter do wrong, cadets?"

Eland tentatively raised her paw. "He failed to use the cuffs to control your arm after uncuffing you."

"Exactly," said Friedkin. She reached down and yanked Hunter to his feet. She regarded his wrists critically. "Cat-cuffs," she said, holding out her paw.

Eland tossed her the appropriate sized paw-cuffs. Hunter, still slightly woozy, found his arms yanked behind him and he was quickly cuffed. "Uncuff one paw," said Friedkin. "Then pull the suspect's arm straight and roll it like so." She demonstrated. Hunter suddenly found he couldn't move his arm without risking having it popped out of his socket. "If he tries to go forward-" she pushed very gently on Hunter, who was forced to move downwards. "Backwards- well, I won't demonstrate, because he'd probably have his arm dislocated. Bottom line, you can then remove the last cuff and back away." She suited action to words.

Hunter rolled his shoulder, working out a kink. "I knew all that," he told Friedkin,

She leaned close to him. "Then why didn't you do it, Hunter?"

"You almost never do that in real life," argued Hunter. He kept his voice low. "That's only for worst-case scenarios-"

"And what do you think we're training you for,?" said Friedkin. She raised an eyebrow when he didn't answer. "Get back with the rest of the group."

Rubbing one wrist, he eyed her. "Yes, ma'am," he said quietly. And for once, there was no hint of sarcasm in his voice.

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The Zootopian spaceport- actually an old airfield that had been repurposed as a landing zone for human ships after First Contact- was all but deserted now. For a short time after the humans had found Terra again, it had bustled with traffic- government officials, businessmen, and even- on one occasion- the odd out-of-place police officer.

Nick hefted his bags uncertainly, looking around at the silent concourse. "Well, thank goodness this isn't too creepy or anything."

Judy gave him a wry look. "Nervous, fox?"

"What?" He sniffed. "Of course not. We're only going to the largest planet in the Human Stars, where we might find the leader of a mysterious organization who keeps trying to kill us, all while dealing with the most cutthroat politicians in the galaxy- hang on, where was I going with this?"

She gave him a half-smile. "You were saying you weren't nervous."

He made a show of considering that. "No," he said slowly. "That couldn't possibly have been my point."

"We'll be okay," said Judy. "Barker will be with us. And Hunter said he'd have humans he trusts watching our back."

"Yeah, but- Barker's coming with us? Ruth Barker? The wolf?"

Judy's ears pricked up, and she turned and nodded over his shoulder. "There she is now."

Wilde turned to see the wolf approaching, her uniform immaculately pressed, as always. Barker was a serious, no-nonsense type- a career cop, through and through. Probably much like Judy would have been, if she hadn't spent so much time around Nick. Judy was still focused, but she'd lightened up a bit.

Barker hadn't. She gave a tight smile to the pair as she walked up. "Wilde," she said in greeting. "Hopps."

"Hi, Ruth," said Judy. "It's been a while. Good to see you."

"I suppose it has," she said. "Not since the award ceremony." She frowned, looking around. "Hunter's not with you, is he?"

"No, he had to be at the academy," said Nick. "Why?"

"Just want to make sure nothing's about to explode," she answered. She gestured. "So should we head to the main gate?"

"No time like the present."

They trooped through the doors leading to the main gate, which in turn led to the landing pad. As the doors swung open, they saw two men in uniform standing at the end of the hallway. One of them was glancing at his watch with an annoyed look on his face.

"I thought these mammals were supposed to be advanced," said the man, who- if Judy was correct in her reading of military insignia- was a Fleet officer. "Doesn't that include punctuality?"

The other man, with a slightly different uniform, shrugged. "Not all can be as punctual as my marines."

The first man scowled at him. "I'm still not sure that's as important for soldiers as you make it out to be, Colonel. I-" he stopped as the colonel, who had caught sight of the three approaching mammals, nodded in their direction.

Flushing slightly, the Fleet officer stepped forward. Judy, Nick, and Barker all stopped a few paces away. The officer inclined his head slightly. "Good morning."

All three mammals had heard his comments, and so they all returned his greeting somewhat frostily. "I'm Ruth Barker," said Barker, who was the senior officer. "This is Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde," she said, indicating the two others. "You're Captain Oakes?"

He clicked his heels and bowed. "At your service, Officer Barker." He gestured to his companion. "This is Colonel la Mancha, commander of the ship's Marine complement."

"Also at your service, ladies." He bowed deeply to Barker and Judy. "And yours," he said, somewhat dismissively, to Wilde. He cocked his head at Judy. "Hopps, you say? Any relation to the Hoppses of Jasimir River?"

Judy blinked. "Um, who?"

Oakes stared at his fellow officer. "I hardly think that Ms. Hopps would be related to one of the noble families of Luyten," he said. "For one thing, and I can see how this might have escaped your notice, she's a rabbit."

La Mancha nodded seriously. "Yes, but one never knows. The Hoppses always have been a rather open-minded family, you know. And they have big ears."

The mammals all looked at each other. "I'm sorry, you said you were leader of-" said Nick faintly.

"The ship's marines, Master Wilde." He stood up even straighter and threw out his chest. "They possess all the three major military virtues! Courageousness! Resourcefulness! Punctuality!"

"Punctuality is among your top three military virtues?" said Barker.

The Marine looked at her, surprised. "Yes, of course."

"But-"

"I find it's better to just accept the colonel and move on," said Oakes hurriedly. "Now, then, we haven't much time. The launch window will be over in less than half an hour. If you'll just come this way-"

He led them out of the spaceport towards a small shuttle. "I apologize for not having anyone to assist you with your bags," said Oakes. "For some reason, the Terran government was reluctant to allow any more than the bare minimum of personnel on the planet for pick-up."

Nick gave him a look. "Yes," he said. "Can't imagine why that might be." He snapped his fingers. "Unless it has something to do with the last large group of military personnel kidnapping a whole bunch of innocent mammals and then having a firefight with police!"

Oakes frowned. "That was the XSO," he said stiffly.

"So?" said Judy.

"The XSO is under the Security Directorate," said la Mancha cheerfully. "A bunch of thugs and political appointees, mostly. Not proper soldiers at all." Oakes's expression hardened, but the colonel didn't seem to notice. "Why, one so-called general I had to coordinate with didn't even know the proper temperature to bake a cheese souffle." He shook his head in disgust.

"I think this colonel might be crazy," whispered Judy, keeping a wary eye on la Mancha.

"Really?" Nick whispered back. "What gives you that idea?"

As they approached the shuttle, a door opened outward, forming a ramp. "Have you ever been to space before?" asked Oakes, with a forced smile on his face.

Barker gave him a polite smile and nodded, but Nick and Judy shook their heads.

"Well," he said, still trying to sound cheerful, "You have quite a treat in store."

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Nick and Judy stood in the observation deck of the shuttle, which was apparently designed for semi-civilian purposes and thus had such a non-combatant feature. The shuttle was moving to dock with the human strike cruiser, which was in a geostationary orbit, some thirty five thousand kilometers above the surface of Terra. Captain Oakes stood a few paces behind them, hands clasped behind their back.

In front, for the first time, they saw their home from space. It appeared enormous, a massive blue sphere broken by the continents, curved stretches of vibrant green and soft-toned brown. Clouds stretched as if daubed onto the planet by the paintbrush of God. Their eyes tracked a cyclone, off to the southern edge of the Great Ocean.

Looking up, they could see the edge of the world, toward the North Pole, where the blue and white of their home's sky suddenly met the infinite blackness of the void, a darkness only broken by the sharp, unwinking points of light that were the stars.

"I'd seen pictures," said Judy softly. "And videos. But to see it for real..." Unconsciously, her paw sought Nick's and clasped it tightly.

He looked at her and smiled insouciantly, though she could see the awe in his eyes, too. "Bunnies," he said, though also quietly, as if the silence was too brittle to break. "So emotional." But he squeezed her paw.

Behind them, Oakes watched their reactions. He remembered the first time he had seen this sight- though of AlphaCen, not Terra, of course. How he had sought to pick out his home and marvelled at how something so enormous could seem so small. And so far away.

And now he wondered at how he could see in the eyes of these two beings so different from him such a similiarity. An humbleness before the greatness of Nature, a realization of one's insignificance- and a hope borne of the realization that even as tiny a speck as an individual person could still be blessed with such sights.

He turned away. "Mr. Wilde, Ms. Hopps."

Nick glanced over his shoulder. "Yes, captain?"

"I've work to do," he said. He hesitated. "But you two can stay as long as you like."

Judy turned to look at him, too. "Thank you," she said.

The human gave them an unreadable look, then nodded and walked away.

Nick pulled Judy closer, and she rested her head against his shoulder as they watched the world go by.

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Getting settled into the ship took no time at all. Both Nick and Judy had stared out the window during docking, astonished, as they realized just how massive the human strike cruiser was. Even Barker had been impressed.

"I came over on a passenger liner," she'd remarked. "They said that was a big ship."

"As big as this?" Judy had wanted to know.

She had just shaken her head, silenced as the ship continued to get larger and larger in the viewport.

When they had docked, there had been some sort of incomprehensible ceremony, with whistles and salutes and the clash of ceremonial swords. The mammals had more or less let themselves be led through it by the ship's first officer, Commander Tosetti. She had been friendly, though distant.

Then they had been shown to their staterooms.

"This is it?" said Judy, surprised. Other than a chair bolted into the floor, the room just looked like a large empty box.

Nick, whose room was- fortunately- directly adjacent, leaned into her room and looked around. "I think this is even smaller than that place you had when you first moved to the city."

"Where's the bed?"

There was a low hum. "Hello," said a voice. "Welcome to your stateroom. You sound like you need help."

Judy and Nick looked at each other. "Um, sure," said Judy.

"Okay. What can I help you with?" said the voice.

"Um, where's the bed?"

"The head is through the door on your right."

Judy gave Nick a quizzical look. He shrugged. She looked up at the ceiling, which is where the voice was coming from. "I said the bed. Where is the bed?"

One section of wall suddenly folded out into a bed, bonking Nick on the head. He staggered and moved away, rubbing his head and scowling.

Judy, seeing he wasn't seriously hurt, carefully kept from smiling. "You okay?"

"Why is the room trying to kill me?" he asked plaintively. "What is wrong with humans?"

The room spoke again. "I do not understand. Please try again."

Nick looked up and spoke slowly and distinctly. "What is wrong with humans?" he said, annoyed.

"I do not have an answer to that question. However, the following encyclopedia entries might help with your query."

A viewscreen nearby lit up. Nick and Judy leaned closer. Judy's eyes fell on one particular entry, perhaps because of the name. "Who is Carrot-top?"

"While I'm not usually in favor of the destruction of knowledge, I may make an exception for that entry," said a female voice from the doorway. The two mammals turned.

Dressed in what they now recognized as a Fleet uniform, a short, compact woman with light pixie-cut hair regarded them with interest. She lounged against the doorway, hands in her pockets, a stark contrast with the formal decorum they had thus far seen from the ship's officers. She smiled in a friendly manner. "Hi. I'm Lt. Commander Bonnaire, but since you guys aren't Fleet you can just call me Wendy."

Judy stuck out a paw. "Pleased to meet you," she said politely. "So Lt. Commander- that's below Commander, right?"

Bonnaire blinked at her paw before carefully shaking it. "Yeah, that's right. I'm in command of the Nike's starstrike contingent." She gestured to a pin on her chest, roughly where Judy's badge was on her uniform. The pin showed crossed comets with a sword between them.

"Starstrike?" asked Nick. "I'm Nick, by the way. This is Judy."

"Starstrike units are sort of like- well, they're smaller craft that are launched from the mothership- the Nike, in this case," explained Bonnaire.

Nick tilted his head. "I think I read about something like that," he said slowly. "Like fighters and bombers?"

She nodded. "Those are two types. One or two man ships. We also have larger craft, up to what we class as LDP- long distance patrol. They have a crew of five, and help extend our effective sensor range." She smiled brightly. "Though I didn't really come here to talk shop. I figured you might need some help getting things sorted. The staterooms can be kind of difficult for newcomers, especially with the AI."

The ceiling spoke. "I am designed to assist passengers, and to make their stay easier and more comfortable." It sounded vaguely affronted, oddly.

"Yes," said Bonnaire, looking up at the ceiling. "You just suck at it."

"Unable to comply with request."

Bonnaire looked pained. "I don't even want to know what the AI thought I said," she muttered.

Barker popped her head out of her stateroom. "Hey, can anyone tell me where the bed is in here?" she asked.

The human sighed. "It directed you to the head, didn't it?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"What's the head, anyway?" asked Judy.

Barker and Bonnaire looked at each other. "They haven't been on a ship before," explained Barker.

"Ah."

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"E-normous criminal!" announced Friedkin in a bellow.

Hunter winced. "I'm right here," he complained.

He stood in a boxing ring, surrounded by the other cadets. He looked around and turned to face Friedkin, outside the ring. "Anyway," he asked. "Who's enormous?"

"Me," said a voice. Hunter turned and saw McHorn- the officer, not the cadet- climbing into the ring. The rhino looked at him and smiled. "Just me and you, Hunter. No tricks."

Hunter looked him up and down. "Okay, yeah. I see what you mean by enormous. Diet not working out for you, McHorn?"

He snorted and rolled his shoulders, loosening up. "Yeah, laugh all you want. You may be fast, human, but I've got the power."

"Isn't that like mass times acceleration? I mean, I'll grant you the mass, but the acceleration-"

"Is there a history between you two?" asked Friedkin suspiciously.

Both the rhino and the human looked at her. "Nope," said Hunter.

McHorn looked surprised, but shrugged. "We used to work together," he said, grinning at Hunter. "We got along great."

"Yep, like a house on fire," agreed Hunter. "A lot like a house on fire, in fact. More casualties, though."

The major looked between them, but decided to let it pass. "All right, then. Ready?" She waited for each of them to nod. "Go!"

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Hunter woke up with Tibbs's anxious face hovering over him. He immediately considered losing consciousness again. Tibbs was friendly enough, but didn't have the sort of looks that made him a pleasant sight to see after waking up.

"Wha' happen?" said Hunter muzzily. He staggered to his feet. "I'm goo' for another roun'."

Friedkin, standing nearby, put a paw on his shoulder and forced him back down. "Don't stand up, Hunter," she said, almost kindly. "You got clocked pretty good."

"Naw, s'fine," slurred Hunter. He looked around. "Where's M'Horn?" As the room came into focus, he blinked. "This isn't the boxing ring," he said, a bit more clearly.

"Nope," said Friedkin. "We carried you to your bunk. The paramedics should be here-"

The door burst open and an armadillo in a paramedic uniform strolled in. He saw Hunter and waved cheerily. "Hey, Hunter. Heard you got a concussion."

Hunter gave him an unsteady look. He vaguely recognized the armadillo from some other scene. "And this pleases you?"

"What? Oh, no. Just hadn't seen you in a while." He pulled out a flashlight. "Now just hold still..."

As the armadillo checked him out, Friedkin snorted. "Pitiful, Hunter. I expected you to last at least three rounds."

He looked at her. "Really?"

"Well, maybe at least a full round. Take the next day or two off, Hunter." She walked out of the room, but then paused and stuck her head back in. "Oh, and Hunter?"

"Yes, major?"

"You're dead!"

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"And this," said Bonnaire, pressing a pad to open a door with a flourish, "Is the most important part of the ship."

She had been giving Barker, Nick and Judy a tour of the ship- at least, the non-classified parts. The three mammals looked inside the room she had opened. "That's weird," commented Nick. "It looks almost exactly like a bar."

"Yep!" said Bonnaire cheerfully. "Can I buy you guys a drink?'

"They allow you to drink on a military ship?" asked Judy, shocked.

"Well, sure. If there's an alert, we inject ourselves with these," said Bonnaire, picking up a syringe full of a metallic substance. She saw their uncomprehending faces. "Oh, right. These are nanites. Special type, used to clean out toxins."

Nick squinted at her. "Wait a minute. Aren't those pretty expensive?"

"Not as expensive as trying to make the Fleet dry," she said. "They'd have a dozen stills running within a week if they banned alcohol. Fleet Command figures this way, they'll at least be able to regulate the flow." She shrugged. "Besides, it's standard procedure for a lot of the crew- like the engineers- to inject these in a combat situation anyway. That way, if they're exposed to toxic gases or something, they may not die." She paused. "At least, not as quickly."

"Not as quickly?" said Judy weakly.

Bonnaire looked pensive. "Possibly more painfully, though." She shrugged. "Oh, well. Come, friends, let us eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die." She walked inside and sat down at the bar, before she realized they hadn't followed her.

She looked back to see all three of the mammals watching her suspiciously from the doorway. "For tomorrow we what?" asked Nick cautiously.

The pilot rolled her eyes. "It's just an expression!"

Author's Note:

It gets explained later in the story, but the 'head' on a ship is the bathroom. Just like the floor is called a 'deck' and walls are called 'bulkheads'. I'm no expert on naval terminology, however, so if anyone sees something that looks like a mistake let me know.

Oh, and Hunter is (not surprisingly) a bit mistaken in his description of that equation he mentions. Force is mass times acceleration, not power (F=ma). Power is work/time (P=w/t). You could, I guess, sort of measure a punch by power, but it makes more sense to calculate it using the first equation. Now, a human hand masses around (on average) 400g; and I found that a professional boxer can punch at around 25-30 mph (I used 30 mph, for about 13.4 m/s). That means a boxer generates about 5360 newtons of force in a punch. I checked, and this is borne out by the studies I've found pretty closely.

A rhinoceros is pretty damn big. They can weigh as much as 8000 pounds, or approximately 3600 kilograms. I have no idea how much their feet weigh, however. Just for the sake of argument, we'll assume that it's roughly equivalent to a human in terms of percentage of body weight, which would make it about 0.58% of the total. That comes out to about 20 kg, or 20000 grams. Now, even if McHorn punches really slowly, like say 15 mph (6.7 m/s) then the force of his punch would be 134,000 newtons, or about 25 times a professional human boxer.

The lesson is, don't box a rhinoceros. You will probably lose. Behold the predictive power of math! (And common sense).