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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
.
Relax Jacob, she's not here to hurt you. Just answer Dr. Quinn's questions and get this started so we can move on with our life.
"So, Mr. Raibert; you were involved in a rather horrific incident last week. You were subjected to an aerial attack, abducted, exposed to mind-altering substances, which I understand have been flushed from your system, and subsequently engaged in an extremely violent exchange. However, there are always concerns of long-term effects. Let's start with the basics and establish our baseline: have you noticed any changes in your sleep patterns, difficulty getting to sleep, or nightmares?"
"No ma'am, no problems sleeping." -scribble-
"How about eating habits? I understand from your records you have a tendency towards, shall we say, non-traditional dietary habits, for a Zootopian that is."
"No ma'am, my appetite's fine." -scribble-
"How about your relationships; any changes there?"
"No ma-am, everyone's been very supportive, though some of my coworkers have been a little more pensive around me lately. It's understandable, considering how they found me." -Scribble-
Oh boy, here it comes.
"Mr. Raibert, in order for there to be any progress here, you need to be honest and candid with me. I understand the 'strong male culture' abhors the idea that you should be anything other than an unmovable rock in the face of adversity, but you can't expect me to believe that you're 'okay' after what you've been through."
Alright Jacob, full disclosure time; this is privileged information, just say it and be done!
"Doctor, three days ago I killed four mammals, and maimed another eight, and I feel nothing! I am anything but okay."
Chapter 27
Jacob, Nick, and Judy were all at Dickies private cinema for the day. They were all on administrative leave, and Dickie had offered them the use of his home. Judy had suggested a marathon of some sort. Much to Nick's distress, they chose the old Battlestar Galactica series, to see if his Cylon really was in the loo. They were taking a midday break to get something to eat.
Jacob shook his head and gestured with a taquito. "'Bonanza' and 'Little House on the Plains' may have tried to paint it otherwise but make no mistake: the Range wars were nothing more than a great gaggle of gang turf wars."
Judy shook her head and swallowed. "I'm not saying it wasn't nasty, but war is nasty. You know that Jacob."
"War isn't the fighting, Judy." Jacob leaned on the table and looked into the air. "War is two or more governments in conflict with one another. There are rules in war; boundaries you don't cross for fear of losing support at home or escalating the conflict out of control. Gang wars don't have rules. The point is to escalate, to be more brutal than the other guy so they'll give up and leave. It's what I did for five years."
Nick leaned over and gripped his shoulder. "Hey, you're not that mammal any more, Jacob."
Jacob dragged his claws across his head. "Aren't I? You saw what I was like at the camp." He clenched his paws. "I had no restraint, no remorse. I was an unfeeling monster."
Nick looked Jacob in the eyes. "Just like your gang days, right?"
Both Jacob and Judy balked at that statement. Jacob was about to rebut, when he saw the look of compassion in Nick's eyes. "That's right, Jacob. You weren't a monster then; you were a confused, angry youth who was taken advantage of by a narcissistic bastard. You had as much control over who you hurt then, as you did at the park." Nick then brought Jacob into a friendly head butt. "Alright, enough talk. Let's grab the grub and get back to the show. I think we're coming up on the two-parter about the Space-NAZI planet."
Judy huffed in exasperation. "Sure, but first I need to hit the head."
Jacob grabbed the platter. "Make sure Nick's Cylon isn't there; they're sneaky like that, hiding in all the chrome."
…
Jacob and Valerie had been offered use of the Grisleigh's cabin for a week while the Grisleighs attended the annual Inter-Tribal Council. The break from the city was greatly appreciated, but they still needed supplies. They decided to head to Beaverton, as Horace would be at the VAA Hall for a fundraiser dinner.
Jacob and Val were sitting with Horace, who was taking a short break from serving. "Turret! How's the mayoral race coming? Or is that why you're in Beaverton instead of stumping in the Savvy?"
Horace huffed at his diminutive friend. "Taking a break from 'Focus-groups' and Swinton's attack mammals. Canidae would be a fine candidate if she didn't have that power-hungry savage as a running mate."
Val took a sip of her water and leaned in. "Rumor is she's planning an attack-ad campaign against your father, siting his refusal to air her campaign ads against you as, 'clear signs of corruption and nepotism'."
"Yeah, he mentioned that at our last family dinner night, just before mom bopped him on the nose for talking shop at the table." Horace got a far-off look for a moment. "It's weird, but I get along better with my father as a peer than I ever did as his son." He shook his head. "Mom just seems to be trying to make up for lost time by doting on me. It makes her happy though, so dad and I just let her. I wish she'd lay off though about…"
"…Grandchildren." The three mammals spoke in unison, then started laughing.
Horace smiled and scooped some spaghetti up. "Well, if Swinton wants to go after dad to discredit me, she'll be trying to punch way above her weight class. Besides, all my dirty little secrets aren't secret."
Jacob chewed thoughtfully. "She may try going after your service record; Zootopia isn't exactly a veteran-friendly city."
Val waved at Jacob with a fork. "Nah, she's more likely to go after Harriet than his military service. She's the low hanging fruit; young, eligible, wealthy bachelor decides to run for public office with a married cow as a running mate. The scandal all but writes itself."
"Dad really would go after her then, hammer and tongs; the Hornsby's have been family friends since he was a calf."
Jacob smirked. "Maybe we could redesign your campaign poster with your 'War-Face' picture from Antakya. Do you still have that one Val?"
"Yeah, the SID declassified those photo's while you were in the academy."
Horace smirked at Jacob. "Then what we need to use is your, 'conquering warrior' photo; the one without Brisby swooning against it. I could have my focus groups turn it into a, 'Come at me Bro' meme."
Jacob stopped eating and stared at the table. "That was… I did some horrifying things back then. You lucked out by getting out of there before the fighting got seriously dirty."
Horace looked at his friend thoughtfully. "Did you commit any war crimes?"
"What? No!"
"Did you enjoy what you were doing?"
"No! I'm not a monster!" Jacob started at his own words, as Val rubbed his back.
Horace nodded. "That's right, you're not. You were a soldier, doing a soldier's duty against an evil foe. An angry, bitter, spiteful soldier, but a soldier none the less." The bull leaned back in his chair. "We've come a long way from the angry young mammals we were when we met, eh LaRue?"
Jacob snorted around his spaghetti. "What are we, a couple of old war horses playing chess in the park? That was five years ago. Besides, I'm still an ornery little cuss."
"Not even close, Umbra." Val patted Jacob's thigh. "You're positively docile compared to the mammal who led an Efrafan charge into the Nasiri."
…
The week away from the city had done wonders for Jacob's general disposition, and Dr. Quinn had cleared him for administrative duty. With the worst of the chaos from the Thule Society's short-lived reign of terror over, the ZATC had transitioned into an advisory board that met for a half-day every week. Jacob also used that as his day for checking in with the LoN offices, leaving the remainder of his time spent as a Liaison Officer in the Seventh precinct. He was finishing up briefing the various shift sergeants on the ongoing search for the last two high-profile fugitive Thule members.
"We now have names for these two: this is Der Autor, the Author. Albrecht Schultz, Germanic grey wolf, age 73. Notable characteristics are significant burn scars on his left manual paw and the left side of his muzzle including his eye and ear. He tends to disguise them with hats, gloves, and glasses, though the scarring does give him a pronounced sneer." Several photos from various cameras in multiple cities were shown on the projection board.
Jacob put up a second picture showing a massive Black Forest wolf. Recently promoted Sgt. Zuckerman whistled at the picture. "Who is this gentle giant with pecks like melons and knees of fringe?" There was a quiet round of chuckles.
Jacob waited for the room to settle again. "This huge fellow is Der Schauspieler, the Actor. Gunter Hann, Melanistic grey wolf, age 30. Notable characteristics," Jacob paused to look at Zuckerman, "…did I mention he's huge?" This brought another round of chuckles. "We think he might have an allergy to a number of chemicals, including those in fur dyes, based on purchase patterns for rash treatments wherever he's been sighted, which would explain his consistent lack of disguise. That, and he tends to stay out of sight unless 'acting'. Reports from the various captured Society members who were at the WWW campsite all say they, 'departed to update Die Adolf'. We believe they are still in the city."
Sgt. Lupinski squinted at the images. "What makes you sure of that? I can't imagine they want to stay here." Her question got a round of nods from the assembled mammals.
"History; every time these two have hit a location, whether successful or not, they remain local for between three and six months to allow pressure to die down before trying to leave. This is why Det. Wilde at the First proposed our current course of action; the ZPD will engage in aggressive searches for these two for the next month, then slowly dialing the intensity back while ramping up surveillance of possible associated egress methods. If we catch them in the sweeps, great! If not, we continue surveillance until they try to move. Brief your officers to be on the lookout for these two. The rest is confidential; if your patrol mammals get antsy, send them my way."
"Thank you, Sgt. Raibert." Capt. Wheldon, Chief Winterhorn's black bear second in command stepped forward. "You are working with Det. Sgt. DuPrey today. Sgt. Zuckerman, your squad…"
Jacob tuned out the remainder of the brief until dismissal, then followed Jean-Pierre to the detective's office. The board that once held every detail of Jean-Pierre's research into the Thule Society now had the face of a male maned wolf, as well as a world map with pins and lines connecting them. "New pet project? Looks like you're tracking the guns the Thule were using."
The detective glanced at his board. "More old history from my Legionnaire days."
Jacob snorted. "You need to sell your story to Tinsel-Town; then you and Jeannette could move out to a private island or something."
Jean-Pierre sat down and faced Jacob. "Not until I'm done writing that story. We're still tracking down all the Thule Aspirants. I need you to work with Det. Grimes on sifting through everything CLEAn is giving us, so Lupinski and Zuckerman can sick the patrols on these punks. Damn." Jean-Pierre pushed off his desk and rolled to the wall. "Part of me wants to be out there busting these little monsters, but I know if I was, I'd likely do something to get myself fired."
Jacob was about to say something, when he saw a familiar anger in the puma's eyes; not the misdirected anger of youth or the hatred that marked the Thule, but a righteous anger of knowing there was evil about and not being able to act against it. It was a look he had seen in his own eyes, in Anatolia, and during the Thule case. Where he hadn't seen it, was in the mirror this morning. Maybe that was something to talk to Dr. Quinn about.
Jacob looked at the Detective and let out a sigh. "Yeah, I know what you mean." He was about to leave when he paused. "By the way, How's Winters doing? I heard one of the twins was colicky."
"Lilly convinced Bill to let her parents have them for the next couple of days."
Jacob quirked an eye. "Oh? Those two have big plans?"
Jean-Pierre chuckled lightly. "Yeah; dinner at the Coyote Moon, then catch the latest Star Wars movie, and then sleep through the night."
…
It was a week since Jacob's last meeting with Dr. Quinn. He had mentioned to her the little revelations he'd had with his various friends, including the conversation he'd had with DuPrey, and the realization that he had very strong feelings about every period in his life that was defined by violence, except the fight in the Thule Campground. She then hit him with what he considered a bombshell: Night Howlers had been proven to act on and suppress the emotion centers of the brain first, without impacting the ability to form new memories.
Jacob could only stare at that. "Why wouldn't you just tell me that up front?!"
"You wouldn't have believed me, and I didn't want to risk just handing you a convenient emotional out. We need you to heal, not just scab over."
With that, Jacob was back on the full active roster, though she did want him to come in once every two weeks for the next three months. Jacob was reminded of something Hannah Grisleigh had mentioned; that there were medical professionals, and then there were Medicine mammals. One fixed the body because that was their job, while the other healed the body, mind, and spirit because that was their calling. As far as Jacob was concerned, this Dr. Quinn really was a Medicine Mammal.
This night was also about spiritual healing; Rabbi Loewe had been brought home, and Jacob was invited to visit him. Jacob was under no illusion that the elder lion was on anything other than hospice care, though he was slightly surprised to find that Dusan had asked for him by name. When he arrived at the Lowe household, he found more than a dozen of the Eweden of every species fussing about while Rabbi Loewe's daughter, son-in-law, their children, and grandchildren all sat or stood in the living room.
Sasha Stood and greeted him. "Mały Lew, thank you for coming."
"M'saia, Pfeffarli-fa DeLacour. I could hardly refuse, though I have no desire to impose. Pfeffa-rahéan koith m'zyzéveer, 'Old lions deserve their rest' as my people say, and your father has certainly earned his."
She smiled beneficently. "Bless you, Jacob. You could never be an imposition. An unholy terror perhaps, but never an imposition. Come, my father is this way."
She guided him to Dusan's room and closed the door once he went inside. The aged lion was recumbent on a pile of pillows, his once powerful frame was wracked by the ravages of time, but his eyes were as bright and clear as fresh water.
"Ah, the mighty hero! Come closer. I am soon to meet God, and I would like to give him a true account of the mammal who has helped rid his earth of so vile a blight. If the Ephraimites had been such as you, they might still be among the tribes of Judea." Jacob frowned slightly but came forward. "Oh now, none of that. I am old, and the most pass into God's paws."
"I'm not upset over your passing, Pfeffa-Rah. M'saion Frith-Rah narn: all things happen as and when God wills them. I just… it saddens me that your life should be book-ended by such evil. And I've read the Book of Judges. Jeptha had the right of it; my kinsmem needed to be stopped."
"Hm, there is still some foolishness of youth in you. You may be right about that tribe of hares from Babylon, but as for my life?" Dusan leaned over. "I have seen the rise and fall of a terrible empire, and now I have seen it's death throws, while my people, the Flock of almighty God, endure and flourish. I have seen this, because of you Jacob." Dusan leaned back onto his pillows. "I understand the Efrafan's have a tradition; a right for the dead?"
Jacob stood ramrod erect. "Yes, the Methrah Bralante. We sing of the accomplishment of the one passing into God's paws, celebrating their life and guarding their grave so that Keharr may not claim the soul before Inle-Rah may do so."
The old lion closed his eyes. "Then it would seem I owe you a story, if you are to give me a proper Efrafan send-off. Also, one moment. Sasha?"
"Abba?" The lioness opened the door and looked in.
The Rabbi gestured to Jacob. "I have decided that young Jacob here, shall sit Shemira." He chuckled at her startled look. "He is fresh from driving the Thule from our city; I could ask for no finer sentry."
Jacob did not leave for two hours. The next night, the family called Jacob to tell him that Rabbi Dusan Loewe had died in his sleep. Jacob was at their home soon after; in full regalia, and with his mother's sword at her insistence. There he stood guard until the dawn. He was relieved when the Chevra Kadisha arrived to prepare the Rabbi.
His funeral service was, as Eweden tradition called for, brief and simple. The burial at Zootopia's Meadowlands Habirewe Cemetery however, was staggering. The procession of cars was three miles long. There were several families traveling who were caught up in the parade by accident. However, when they arrived at the destination, no matter the species or denomination, they were welcomed by the Eweden community. The event soon grew to the point that news teams came to determine what was happening.
Once his body was interred, Sasha stepped forward. "My father was a mammal of God, but he was also a mammal of the community. He has asked that one part of that community honor him in their way." With that, she motioned to Jacob and stepped aside.
Thirty Efrafan and Lapino hares in their finest attire and sheathed swords stepped forward and surrounded the grave and family. His sister stood next to Sasha and translated for the crowd. Once arranged, Jacob looked at the crowd. "Sainte atha ma U Hrair, kan zyhlante hray u vahra ma hyaones." (My heart has joined The Thousand, for my friend has stopped running today.) "Rabbi Loewe Pfeffa-rah a Frithrah varatha laynt." (Rabbi Loewe was a lion and a Friend of God.)With that, he began to sing: he sang of Dusan's birth in Prague and of his growing in the Flock. He sang of the sorrow and fear of the rise of the NAZI and the Thule. He sang of leaving the Old World and seeking peace in Zootopia. He sang of the trials of living in the Tannerman Era, and of how he led the Eweden community despite the rampant prejudice. He sang of the triumph of reason over fear, and the end of that era. He sang of a life filled with community and love and family; a life triumphant over the Thule Society. Jacob sang for thirty minutes straight, while the Efrafan and Lapino chorus intoned, 'M'saion Pfeffa-Rah'. When he had finished, he bowed his head. His voice never broke, though tears poured down his muzzle.
Jacob's voice called out, strained but clear. "Hrarail nildelai, a dayn Keharr halme kimthile." (The birds are circling, and Keharr comes to claim his prize.) "Hayessi mitéathpli u zorn?" (Who will stand in defense of the fallen?) Thirty hares simultaneously drew their blades; swords of every type and make and era throughout Europa and Asia Minor. "Very well. I give it you strictly in charge; this is now holy ground and we shall defend it until the appointed hour. We are Efrafan, the Sons of Efrafa."
The assembled hares cried out in unison, "M'saion Efrafil!" The grave of Dusan Loewe remained guarded for three days and nights, until the night of the new moon.
