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The following is a work of fanfiction: there is no intent of this author to violate, transgress, profit from or infringe upon the Copyright and Intellectual Property (IP) rights of the parent Copyright or IP holders of characters, events or locations belonging to the same which may be contained within this work. To reiterate; this is a Derivative Work meant to be used under Fair Use as described in 17 U.S.C. § 101 and § 107.

All language is either through Google Translate, or the site 'Bits'n'Bob-stones'

The Sons of Efrafa

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"Dear everyone,

Sorry for not writing sooner, but it's been really hectic this last week. I'm doing okay right now. I've included a picture of the whole gang. Can't say much else. Thank you for the warm wishes from everyone.

My love to the whole neighborhood, Jacob.

P.S. Con-ni-Fa, what can you tell me about Veheer?

Chapter Seven

Three days of continuous interrogations followed the attack, carried out in the second-floor intelligence section of the Barracks building. This was the seventh, and last mammal captured from the assault on the gate, a twenty-something fallow deer. Jacob was surprised at how banal the entire affair was; there were only three biometric-chip controlled doors, with one of those being the main entrance. The only other obvious sign that this area wasn't simply a random wing of the AEP Barracks was the presence of armed guards at several sentry points throughout the section. To be fair, the only parts he had been allowed access to where the interview room, where he was assigned interior security, the break room, the bathroom, and the lead's office where someone de-briefed him after every session.

Jacobs' own training and experiences, plus his own trial interviews with ADA Deaux had prepared him for the realities of interrogation practices; no Tinsel-town clap-trap of 'Good-cop, Bad-cop', no hammering paws on the table to shock the interviewee, and certainly no threats of torture to extract information. Each mammal was escorted in and secured to the interview table, and then the interrogation team, an Egyptian Jackal named Amon El Masry, and one of a rotating pool of translators, entered; the only individual allowed into the room with any kind of weapon was Jacob, and he was ordered to keep out of arm's reach at all times. He was also told never to speak where any of the interviewees could overhear.

As the interview dragged on for the fifth hour, Jacob heard something in the voice of the young cervine; a hitch in his speech patterns, a repetition of some local slang where another, more relevant idiom might seem more appropriate. It took all of Jacob's willpower not to smirk; they got him!

Two hours later, the deer was escorted back to his cell and the team packed their equipment up and departed. Jacob headed straight to the leads office to report what he had heard.

"Pvt. Raibert, reporting Sir!"

When the door was opened, he was greeted by Director Tinley, a red panda from the Tibetan Empire and regional head of the Special Intelligence Directorate (SID), as well as W.O. Mendoza, who was sporting a sling for his right arm and a new hole in his ear. 'Huh, so that's what the other hole is.'

"Have a seat young mammal and tell me what got you so excited."

"Sir?" Both Jacob and Mendoza looked curiously at the aged intelligence officer.

"The last two hours of the interview you could barely keep still, I almost thought I would have to send someone in to replace you. Oh, don't give me that look; I was profiling mammals while your mother was in diapers. You might as well be a children's book to me. So, out with it."

"Yes sir." Jacob shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "During the last quarter of the interview, I noticed Mr. 'Sadik' became tired; his speech patterns changed slightly, though still familiar, as well as his use of idioms and slang became more rote and repetitious than I would expect from a native Anatolian. I believe he received formal training in the Anatolian language. The hint of accent he has is very similar to a friend of mine who used to serve here; I believe our Mr. 'Sadik' is from Purrsia, and his language skill is university taught."

Tinley quirked a bushy eyebrow at Jacob. "Interesting, we may have to look into that. Was there anything else?"

"Nothing of note other than his anti-carnivore rhetoric, which I think he wholeheartedly believes."

"Very good. Obviously, the Non-Disclosure Agreement (NDA) you have signed is in full effect for the five years following your discharge from service, with the penalties for breach of that NDA as stated. Dismissed."

Both Raibert and Mendoza stood; Raibert saluted, and when Mendoza winced at his reflexive attempt to salute, Jacob raised his own left paw over to his CO's right temple in the saluting position. At the directors' peculiar look, Jacob glanced knowingly at Juan's sling, "Well he certainly can't do it."

The senior panda snorted, then returned the salute, dismissing them. Once they were back in the main barracks area, WO Mendoza turned to Jacob.

"Cheeky pup; don't make me regret what I'm about to do Corporal."

"Corporal?!" Jacob's ears shot up in surprise.

"That's right. Your conduct recently has been exemplary, and you acquitted yourself with distinction during the attack. That, plus Capt. Buyuk's shining recommendations have given me the leverage to push through a brevet promotion; congratulations!"

Jacob snapped to attention, "Thank you, Sir! I won't let you down!"

"See that you don't. Sgt. Malvec in supply has your new uniform issue; head down there and get your insignia straightened out. If you want, you can request an issued NCO's sword, as you are authorized to wear one now, though regulations do permit the wear of 'culturally significant articles'. I understand you recently came into possession of an heirloom sword; you may wear that, if you wish. Take some time to yourself but stay on post; I'm going to be assigning you a detail in the near future, so stay sharp until then."

The assigned detail came a week and a half later, when the entirety of F Troop was loaded up, along with a mixed squadron of RAT Recon and Gunship Ornicopters and a company of Red Horse engineers. All these units were arranged in Platoon sized units of one MP squad, one Engineering squad, and one RAT Flight with support crew. As luck would have it, Jacobs platoon included all of his circle of friends. Trailing after the battalion-strength convoy was the AP news team, including Valerie Coneja.

They drove east for the better part of the morning until they reached the city of Antioch. They had orders to refurbish a series of redoubts set up near the Assyrian border; these were a remnant of the defensive works established during the Spring Revolution and the failed attempt to overthrow the Purrsian Shah almost 30 years ago. Leaving the AP news team at the command post, Jacob's platoon, under the command of Sgt. Tannhauser, was assigned the northernmost post. The next nearest post was one-and-a-half kilometers southwest on the other side of a line of rocky outcroppings; it took them half an hour to drive around the terrain.

Upon arriving, they were met by a platoon of Efrafan's from the local SWD battalion. They were in light field duty uniforms, with simple load-bearing harnesses for equipment, including a back-mounted retraction wheel connected to their Tactical AC-556; this was to allow them to swiftly secure their weapon should they need to run on all fours. Jacob appreciated the equipment that seemed to be designed with Efrafan tactics in mind. A quiet fell over the formation of hares, who could be heard repeating "Inle-roo" in hushed whispers as Jacob was called over by Sgt. Tannhauser.

"Cpl., this is Lt. Yabani Tavsan. His unit will be providing perimeter security while we secure the post during set up; I'll need you to stick with us to facilitate communications."

"Yes sir." Jacob turned to the Lt., mindful not to salute while in a potentially hostile situation. "I'm Cpl. Jacob Emanuel Raibert. You and your Hrare-lion may call me Emanuel."

Jacob noticed the brown hare seemed torn between showing deference to an Owsla such as Jacob, while maintaining military decorum.

"You carry Elil-zorn, but I do not know the name Raibert." The Lt. said while eyeing the sword at Jacobs' hip.

"And well you needn't…" Jacob replied calmly, "…it is my father's name; I will be done with it once I am married. My mother is of the lines of Rautha and Uzun, and it is Thlayli Uzun whose Elil-zorn I carry, as my grandfather carried before me."

"I had heard the son of Constantin had come home. M'saia, Inle-roo Owsla Emanuel."

"M'saia, Lt. Tavsan. We have much to do yet, shall we begin?" Jacob gestured to the redoubt.

As they went into the work area, Spc. Hornblower gestured to Jacob.

"Hey, what was that business about 'Larue'?"

"Inle-roo, it means 'little death'."

Horace got a mischievous glint in his eye. "No, I'm pretty sure I heard them say 'Larue'."

Jacob snorted. "Ass, don't you have a slit-trench to dig or something?"

It took the better part of two hours for the engineers to set up the temporary generator and microwave rectenna to power the ornicopters. As soon as it was operational, Mousekewitz and Brisby were airborne providing reconnaissance for the SWD detachment, with another gunship kept in reserve. No sooner had Boyan and Hornblower begun breaking ground on the outposts water and fuel tanks, when Mousekewitz called in to the command post.

"Jamboree actual, Raptor, over."

Tannhauser picked up the radio handset. "This is Jamboree actual, go ahead Raptor, over."

"Jamboree actual, we have a light vehicle approaching from home base and a dust devil 10 klicks due west, how copy over?"

"Standby, Raptor." the germanian wolf turned to the razorback boar in charge of the radio equipment. "Pataember, did CP (command post) call anything in?" he asked.

"No sir, I'll check in with them."

"Raptor, Jamboree actual, keep eyes on, over."

"Roger, Jamboree actual; holding at Angels 2 (two kilometers altitude)."

"Corporal," Tannhauser turned to Jacob. "Take a fire team and intercept that vehicle."

Jacob nodded and, after checking that his helmet radio and earbuds were in and working properly, departed with a Hibernian badger and a machinegun team of two Québécois mule deer in tow.

It wasn't five minutes after setting up, that the truck in question rounded a bend; it was the AP news team. They stopped as soon as they were flagged down. Getting out, Valerie and her armadillo camera mammal looked slightly alarmed.

"Inle-Rah rooliti! (Son of Death) Are you trying to kill me, or just my career?!" The Lapino jill grasped her chest in shock.

Jacob motioned for the fire team to lower their weapons. "Jamboree actual, Scout one; false alarm, it's the AP team."

"Copy scout one, bring them in. Raptor, Charlie Mike (continue mission)."

Jacob turned to the flustered Lapina. "Sorry miss Coneja, but we saw a vehicle approaching, and we weren't told you were coming; and call me Emanuel."

The jill visibly relaxed at the cultural familiarity. "Frith a mes, (greetings/thankyou) Emanuel, but I heard them radioing you as we were leaving."

Pvt. Briosca responded. "Probably equipment failure."

Jacob shrugged at Valerie's incredulous look. "Welcome to the military; home of the lowest bidder."

Everybody piled into the news van and headed back to the redoubt. As they pulled into the little fort, a series of explosions knocked the truck onto its side. Everyone scrambled to get clear of the van. Jacob looked around at the scene; the small command post next to the generator was destroyed, with the combat engineers providing medical assistance to Tannhauser, Tavsan and Pataember. Every other able body was on the wall laying down fire towards where Brisby and Mousekewitz were firing.

Jacob bellowed out. "Ceasefire, ceasefire! They're under cover in the Wadi, stop wasting ammunition!"

With the camps main radio taken out in the initial attack, Jacob got on his helmet radio as it was just powerful enough to reach the gunship. "Raptor, Scout one, return to base; you are bingo power!"

"Say again, Scout one, say again."

"Raptor, you are bingo power; return to base."

After a moment's hesitation, Brisby replied. "Copy scout one, returning to base."

With Mousekewitz and Brisby no longer in danger of being stranded without power, Jacob turned his attention to the deployed Efrafans. "Scout one to all units return to base; I say again this is Inle-roo to all units, returned to base." Once he received an affirmative he turned his attention to the assembled mammals. "What were we just hit with, and what's the damage?"

Boyan stood up from putting a compress on the engineering sergeant's head. "Light mortar, I think, very sudden; all of our NCO's are injured, and all our trucks are out of commission, though I think the rest of the equipment is OK. Pataember was trying to raise the CP when we were hit."

Jacob began scanning the ridge line behind the base. "That's awful accurate for no ranging shots they must have spotters up there. Raptor, any movement on the ridge?"

"Two mammals on foot; I see long arms."

"Take them out, then bring it in."

The only response he received was a sudden burst of weapons fire into the side of the mountains, and then the buzzing sound of the returning gunship. By the time they landed, the bulk of the SWD force had returned. Jacob called all that was left of leadership, Spc. Hornblower, Spc/F. Brisby, and Sgt. Arap, who bore a striking resemblance to the hare from Jacob's dream, behind the berm the engineers had made while excavating.

"Sgt., will you need me to translate?" Jacob asked.

Arap responded in near-perfect Anglican. "No, I learned anglican at the International University in Timbuktu."

"Huh, good to know. So, what do we have, what did we lose, and what's our next move?"

"Well," Brisby piped up, "…I would have to double check our gun camera footage to be sure, but that dust devil we saw looked to be a battalion strength convoy of light vehicles headed this way."

"Military?" asked Arap.

Teresa snorted. "Not unless the Assyrian military relies heavily on multi colored Paykan and Bardo sedans and Pickups."

The Sergeant. shook his head. "The Assyrians hate the Shah and all he touches, they prefer Russo-Slav vehicles. Those you destroyed in the wadi were all sheep, and the Assyrian army is almost exclusively jackals."

Jacob noded. "So, a battalion strength force of herbivorous irregulars in technicals. Anything else?"

"Yes, they reeked of Cigdem Sheesha."

"Chigger-Cheetos what?" Horace looked puzzled.

"A flower derived narcotic used in religious ceremonies; a little bit is supposed to bring you closer to your god, a lot makes you susceptible to suggestion; too much makes you paranoid and violent." Jacob responded. "It means we're dealing with religious fanatics, probably the same ones that attacked the base. So, what's our status?"

"Whelp," Horace leaned back, "…aside from Tannhauser, Tavsan and Pataember, we've no one who'll be getting a Purple Heart yet, and the Redoubt's structure is sound; the pillbox over there," he gestured to a semi-recessed, fully enclosed concrete octagon, "…is where we put all of our munitions and demolition equipment, so that's safe. I suppose with time I could repair the -86 generator, comms-gear and rectenna or I could fix up one of the trucks, but not both with what we have on hand."

"Gear before vehicles." Jacob shook his head. "Even our biggest truck couldn't fit everyone, and I won't leave anybody to those mad-mammals; I want to focus on…"

"Contact southeast! RPG!" a mammal still on the wall yelled, just before a projectile glanced off the side of the fortifications and tumbled into the redoubt.

"Batari!" Horace bellowed to a Sumatran tigress EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) specialist next to the pillbox. When she looked up, he pointed to the battered RPG in their midst. "UXO (Un-eXploded Ordnance)." He then joined the rest of the unit on the firing line, 12.7mm rifle in hand.

Sgt. Arap was speaking into his own shortwave radio, when he looked up to Jacob. "Inle-roo, my hayessil (scouts) say this is a probing force; two squads with rifles and RPG's, no more. They're in the wadi."

"That empties out onto that dirt road over there; think your Hrayfa can flush them out by the road?" Jacob gestured to a path leading out of the mountains about 100 meters from the fort to their left. When Arap nodded, Jacob turned to his LoN comrades. "Pridi, when I tell you, I want you to focus fire on the road where the scrub line ends." The Thai muntjac and his jungle cat assistant gunner immediately repositioned their light machinegun (LMG) and awaited the command to fire. While all this was happening, Valerie and her camera mammal were setting up on top of the pillbox.

The counter attack was as swift as it was brutal. When Arap indicated his team was in position, Jacob raised his paw up and then swept it down in a cutting motion; Sgt. Arap gave the order, and chaos erupted at the bottom of the hill as half a dozen fragmentation grenades were hurled into the wadi, followed by short bursts of carbine fire. Nearly a dozen and a half sheep and goats armed with assault rifle stumbled out of cover onto the road, turning to face their unseen attackers. Once Jacob was certain all the assailants were in the open, he simply yelled, "Now!" At this, his two light machinegun teams opened fire. It was all over five seconds later.

Jacob turned to Sgt. Arap. "Sergeant, I want your mammals to rig up booby traps with whatever they left behind, then get back here to rotate with another squad. Pridi, back to normal fields of fire; what's the ammo situation?"

After a short review of the assembled soldiers, Pridi replied, "500 rounds each for the LMG's, and roughly five magazines each for all the long arms. Nobody has thrown any grenades, so full loadout there, such as it is. Not enough for a pitched battle."

"We-well, why not use their stuff?" inquired the visibly shaken armadillo from atop the pillbox.

Pvt. Briosca snorted. "This isn't a video game, pup; ya donna pick up a random gun when yours runs dry!"

"Eyes front, private." Jacob said casually. "He's right though; we've not trained with those weapons, and we don't know their condition. We're better off being cautious with our limited resources, rather than wasting time with unfamiliar equipment." He became quiet for a moment as he looked at the camera. "How good is that thing?"

The flustered armadillo immediately perked up. "Oh, this is a GY-HM650 Mobile News Camcorder; it's one of the best on the market right now! It's got mph phrh!" Valerie put a manual paw over her partners mouth.

"Why do you want to know? I'll not have you endangering my friend…" Valerie demanded.

There was a general grumbling coming from the assembled soldiers.

"At Ease!" Jacob bellowed. "Be at ease, Marlifa. For what I have in mind, you two are in the best spot possible; an elevated position with clear line of sight. I could only elevate you more by perching you in Hornblower's antlers."

"Well that's not happening; dad wants me to be in the family business, but not as equipment. I'm not a camera mount or turret!"

Jacob got a thoughtful look on his face again, then shook his head and turned his attention back to the defensive jill. "What I need, is to know what the enemy is doing, in general; are they packing their vehicles, are they dancing, eating, are they…"

The camera mammal piped up, "Passing a sweet bong around while some gnarly goat stands on a car hood babbling at them like Hugh Mungus from that old 1970's 'Mad Yax: Road Warrior' movie?" As several troops started laughing, Jacob and Arap looked at each other with concern. "Is, is that … bad?"

Sgt. Arap looked with sympathy at the two civilians. "It means they will attack very soon, in force." He then turned and began organizing his troops.

Jacob turned to the LoN forces. "Brisby, Hornblower, I need to know what we can have ready right now! I know the birds are grounded; is there any way to get the Metal Storm pods rigged up to fire manually, or by remote?"

"Not in the time we have; Damn it!"

"Language, Brisby." Horace jokingly admonished.

"I will scale you like a mountain, crawl up your gigantic nostril and stab you in the brain!"

"Easy Teresa, we'll need him; I have…part of an idea. First, Horace; you said demo equipment?"

"Yeah, a Giant Viper rocket launched mine clearance line charge system. Fine if we can get them to line up but otherwise…"

Jacob had a distant look in his eyes. "They'll come along the road."

"Emanuel, how can you possibly know that?" inquired Brisby.

"Memories of the East, lighting the path Westward." Jacob closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment.

"Larue?" Horace and Brisby both looked at Jacob with concern.

"Uh, boss mammal? They really are going Road Warrior on us; they're piling into their cars and circling now!" Valerie's camera mammal informed. "Shouldn't we, I don't know, call for help?"

"Our radio equipment is destroyed, and no-one brings cellphones into a potential combat zone. Do you have yours?"

"Yes, but we don't have any signal." Valerie said as she looked at her phone.

Jacob huffed in resignation. "So, we're on our own."

A weak voice rasped from where the wounded were being treated. "Gunship."

Jacob headed over and knelt next to Sgt. Tannhauser. "Easy Sgt. We don't have a generator to power the air assets. The gunships are grounded."

The timber wolf gave a sluggish shake of his head. "Fuel-cell, courier."

Jacob stared blankly for a moment, then smacked himself on the forehead. "Thank you, Sgt." He then stood and addressed the assembled mammals. "Lightner, Harvey, get your Hornet ready to fly; strip everything off that you don't need to lighten the load. You're heading to Redoubt # 2 over the ridge on fuel-cell backup to report our situation. Brisby, you and Mousekewitz mount up, have your Raptor's weapons pods loaded up, then bring all the extras up to the firing line. Boyan!" The red deer looked up as mammals were scurrying everywhere getting into position. "Get the Giant Viper system down to where the Wadi meets the road facing west, then set it up to be activated from as far away as possible; when as much of the convoy as you feel comfortable is in range, fire and get back here. Sgt. Arap," Jacob began stripping out of his armor, "…have your Hrare-lion strip all non-combat gear; we'll be moving low and fast."

The sergeant was about to speak when his eyes went wide "M'saia, Owsla! Hrare-lion, M'saion elil, sith-zhylon hraray!" He said this as he drew his combat knife and held it above him, to which the assembled Efrafans began chanting, "M'saion, Inle-roo!"

"Horace," Jacob started towards the Raptor flight, "…you've always been an ass, now let's see about making you a Bad-Ass!" Horace followed in morbid curiosity.

"How did I let you talk me into this?!" Horace demanded as Brisby (or someone) strapped a neck brace on him.

"Come on, Zoo-U's a party college, are you saying this is any weirder than your frat days?" Jacob asked while helping drag the hood from one of the wrecked military trucks over for Hornblower to use as a makeshift shield.

"No, I can safely say I never did anything close to mounting a gunship to my rack, so I could serve as an impromptu Turret!" Horace clenched his teeth in frustration.

"If you don't stop wiggling, I will throw up on your head!" Fivel yelled through the com channel.

"Emanuel," Valerie called out, "…they're done circling, and heading this way!"

"Alright, you know the plan; once Boyan diverts them off the road, you sucker them in with light fire. Once they're in the wadi, you focus fire on their right flank, over by the road, then walk your fire to the center but no farther than that gnarled olive tree; the Hrare-lion and I will hit them from the left flank. Everyone, secure comms three, check!" Once everyone had called in on the secure frequency, Jacob and the Efrafans headed out to the southern end of the Wadi.

A few minutes felt like hours as the LoN forces awaited contact. Soon, they heard the sound of engines coming up the road. From their vantage on the pillbox, the AP team recorded the battle for posterity. The convoy was 50 meters from the launcher when Boyan fired the mine-clearance rocket. Forty of the 100 vehicles were caught in the road when the 200-meter-long explosive line detonated, shredding some vehicles, while others were hurled dozens of meters in either direction. Those survivors who headed north off the road were now well within the range of the LMG's and swiftly cut down; those who went south had some protection due to the Wadi. Their vehicles, however, were well inside the range of Horace, the living turret.

"Horace, look left, more, stop!"

-BLAM-

"OW! Sunnova…"

-BLAM-

"G#$E%$`!"

"Alright Horace, kneel down; Reload!"

The survivors madly drove for the cover of the wadi, only for the first few to trigger the series of IED's laid earlier. Of the more than 400 mammals who began the attack, only 50 made it out of the tree line. As they scrambled out of the ditch, they began firing wildly into the redoubt, but it was too little, too late. The soldiers poured fire into the enemies' right flank, causing them to rush in the opposite direction, and that was when the Efrafans struck, Jacob in the lead; the Hrare-lion charged out of the low brush on all fours with blades clenched in their teeth. Half the unit paused mid run to pop up and begin shooting into the confused force in front of them, while Jacob and the few hares in the lead rushed in and lashed out at the ankles of the enemy with their blades. Those who followed washed over the remaining attackers like a wave. Only silence remained.

Valerie sat in shocked silence; it was one thing to hear tales of past glories, of the Efrafan Lapinnius Australis' valiant, if failed rebellion, of the Legion of Janisarius marching with Marcus Aurochius through Germania and Gaul, or dutifully standing guard on Haredrian's Wall. But to see Jacob through the powerful lens of the camera, his Battle Dress Kilt (BDK) tattered and covered in the blood of his foes, she could not doubt that he was indeed Inle-rah Rooliti, the Son of Death and born for war. Just then a braying cry went out as Horace stood on the rampart, brandishing his car hood shield and carbine like his Vinlandic ancestors, a testament to the absurdity of warfare.

God, she needed a drink.

It took another two hours to cobble together a radio and contact CP, which was when they learned that simultaneous attacks had occurred at nearly all the redoubts, as well as against the regional cell towers. Jacob's post, it seemed, had been the primary focus, with all the other locations being attacked by platoon or company strength forces. Once command was assured the area was secured, an airship was sent from Antioch to medevac the wounded, with a second airship bringing relief supplies and replacements for most of the damaged equipment. Repairs and refurbishment of the redoubt was not finished until the end of the next day, by which time the fresh combined LoNF/SWD Brigade which was to mam the network of defenses arrived. With that, the Incirlik contingent returned to base.

It would be another week of debriefing and after-action reports before Jacob and friends, to include Valerie and her camera-mammal, had any time off.

"Relax, Turret! The rest of us have been to this place a bunch of times, it's great!" Jacob commented over the sound of Mediterranean Disco music.

Horace snorted at the nickname. "The last time I went anywhere with you, I was shot at and you strapped a gunship to my head; Odin only knows what you'll have me doing by the end of tonight."

Brisby began banging her glass on the table. "Slippery Slope fallacy; one shot penalty, Horace!"

"What?!" the bull moose looked aghast as Jacob flagged down a passing waiter. "We weren't even debating!"

"What are they going on about?" Valerie asked while looking over to Boyan.

"Is drinking game between Emanuel and Horace; pick topic to debate, then argue. If use logical fallacy, or reuse argument, is penalty and must take shot. If point is conceded get hors d'oeuvre. Winner has least empty shot glass or is still conscious. You said you are leaving for Amerigo?"

"That would make for some very lively and entertaining political debates, and yes but not until I finish my degree in a year and a half. A telecommunications company in northern Pacifica has offered me a contract and to pay my school loans." She noted as a platter of dual-sized shots of Raki arrived at the table.

"OOHH, Horace!" Fivel bounced in his seat. "New reality TV show: competitive drunken political debates! You're getting out, pitch the idea to your dad!"

"Nope." Horace said as he downed his shot. "Didn't get past the censors."

"Wait, wait, wait…" Jacob said as he drank a shot from the tray, "…did you say Wouldn't or Didn't?"

"Why?" Valerie asked while pointing to Jacob.

"He got off topic, which is also a penalty; and it was 'Didn't'." Horace said. "There are some truly, painfully stupid shows that get pitched to my father's company; what you see in syndication are the ones that are likely to have long-term profit. Besides, I think I want to focus more on reforms; get more mammals involved in the day-to-day operations of the city than has traditionally happened, especially more inclusivity for smaller mammals. From what I've been hearing, polls are showing Granby's popularity has dipped below 50%. If my dad keeps backing Lionheart, Zootopia may see the first pred… carnivore mayor in more than 80 years. That's a lot of political good will, and I intend to capitalize on it."

"Well look at you, Horace 'Kingmaker'." Jacob said while raising a glass in salute. "What about you, Teresa? I heard you got new orders to somewhere in North Amerigo."

"Yes, to Montreal; the border dispute between Acadia and Vinland is getting worse, and Quebec has requested the LoN to step in to mediate, or at the very least keep the fighting contained."

Fivel looked up from his drink, "Well good luck with that. The Njords and the Gauls have been fighting each other since before the crusades, and I don't see them stopping any time soon."

Valerie pulled a tablet out and began typing on it. "You could always just show them this and tell them to play nice or else." She turned the screen to the rest of the table, showing the still frame of Horace defiantly standing on the redoubt wall after the battle. Amidst the laughter and cheers of the assembled mammals, Horace tried to close the image. His attempts caused the screen to advance to the next picture; Jacob in his stained BDK standing on the bank of the Wadi, ears pointing straight back while gesturing with his Yataghan. There was silence for a moment, then…

"Damn, Larue! You are one scary little bunny."

"What the hell have I told you about that word!" Jacob was standing in his seat, pointing an accusing digit at Horace.

"Enough to know it's accurate in this case; you screwed the lot of them, and they sure as hell payed for it." Horace tapped Jacob on the top of his head.

Jacob, stared for a few seconds, then sat down in a huff. "I…concede the point."

As Horace was crowing his victory and claiming his prized snack, Teresa walked across the table to the tablet. "Boyan, could you get your camera ready?" Once the red deer had his phone out and ready to take pictures, Brisby swooned against the screen of the tablet; the result looked like a classic Furzetta painting. There was much rejoicing.

"Whelp," Jacob stood in his chair and raised his glass, "… come what may, this day is ours. Let its memory light our way forward."

"Here here!"