Author's Note:

Sorry, all! I know it's been a while, but I ended up indisposed. Just now regaining use of my hands. It's been very slow going, and this could probably use more polishing. Hopefully, not too many mistakes.

Enjoy this installment!

UPDATE: I noticed an error that I forgot to correct. Let's see if anyone catches it.

5:56 PM

The Battle of Hopps Hill ended abruptly, without much fanfare or casualties—on the Hopps side. Lecroy's team, however, lost over half its members, eight of those fatally wounded. The ones who could run did so en-masse when the loudspeakers on the armored crowd control car started blaring sarcastic comments in a fake Bunnyburrow accent, accentuated by foam bullets and high-pressure water bursts.

The attackers had brought anti-tank weaponry, but those mammals had been quickly taken out by Blackwell and Zeke. With Lecroy out of action to rally and coordinate, the others had been unable to press an organized attack, their best chance having been lost at the gazebo standoff.

Although not very good in a military sense, Lecroy had trained his mammals well in other aspects: Nobody knew enough about anyone else to identify the ones who got away. Nor had Lecroy presented himself as the leader of the movement, but as a lieutenant.

The wounded buck counted himself lucky to be alive. Luckier to have gotten away when so many others had not. Doc had not come along on the failed raid, so there would at least be first aid for those injured who had managed to escape. Lecroy had already sent the failed mission text to Doc, and their plan called for the rest to remain in hiding until contacted by Doc.

Lecroy couldn't figure out what went wrong. The plan had seemed perfect. Was perfect. There was no way for the ZIA assassins to know they were coming, was there? And what kind of gun could cause a wound like the one in his arm? Perfectly clean hole, through and through. Luckily missed the main blood vessels, though not by much, and he would probably never regain full use of the arm. He looked at the tree root he had shoved into the hole to stop the bleeding. Doc would tell him for sure, one way or the other. Soon the adrenaline rush would wear off and he would be one hurting rabbit.

His second in command had not been so lucky. Perhaps if Doc had come along...no. No use going down that path. Doc would likely also be dead or injured. Damned ZIA assassins. He we would get even with them, somehow. He would need more recruits first, but he knew where to get them.

6:12 PM

Kurt and Blackwell came down from the top of the burrow, having remained there until Jethro signalled the all-clear. The bare-chested duo caused a mini sensation among the unattached does coming outside to help, the pair striding down the hill with their gear in paw and their well-toned bodies glistening in the fading sunlight.

"Good shooting," Jethro complimented, shaking their paws. They had taken out three teams carrying anti-tank weapons, allowing the burrows's armored car to circle around and surprise the main group attacking the gazebo. They also prevented those heavy weapons from being used against the burrow itself, which had likely been the attacker's original plan.

"All in a day's work," Blackwell dismissed, casually flexing his pecs. "You don't mind if we stay for dinner, I hope?"

Jethro laughed. "I don't think my sisters would let you leave very soon, anyway," he said, glancing at the kitchen windows now packed with blushing bunnies peeking out.

Kurt was a little shy, but Blackwell poured on the charm, milking the 'my hero' angle for all it was worth as they entered the burrow to the applause of many females. Well organized teams of bunnies were sent out to search and bring back the wounded from both sides before evening fell, leaving the bobcat and skunk surrounded by impressionable young does with nothing to do.

Until Bonnie waddled into the kitchen. The Hopps matriarch quickly assessed the situation and promptly assigned tasks to the idle bunnies with efficiency worthy of the best drill sergeant. The cog that was the Hopps kitchen sprang flawlessly into motion, already late for the burrows's usual dinner time.

Kurt and Blackwell were unceremoniously dispatched to the shower room with promises of fresh clothing. The two didn't even blink, reverting to their old military training: follow orders from whomever seemed in charge. And Bonnie Hopps was most certainly in charge.

Kataiahs and Skye were given ponchos to get them inside the burrow and to the showers. The two blood-covered predators were given looks of respect mixed with just a little fear. Nick was brought in on a stretcher, the cut from the bear's claws being more serious than it looked: once the adrenaline rush had worn off, the tod collapsed inside the armored car.

Reggie and Elena entered walking side by side, their paws virtually glued together. One look at them had Bonnie smiling wide—one less problem.

Judy and Jack wore determined looks on their faces, while Trina was serene and quiet. She approached Bonnie and bowed.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Hopps," she apologized, looking down. "There was some damage to your lovely gazebo, and some of the berry bushes were destroyed."

Bonnie stared open muzzled, then drew the black bunny into a hug. "Oh, nonsense," she assured. "I'm sorry you had to experience such a fright at our farm."

"It was not really that frightening," she replied, giggling. "It was very exciting."

6:30 PM

Margaret shook her head at the TV in disbelief. "Who is stupid enough to start shooting at the farm?" she wondered, laying with her head in Vince's lap.

"You'd be surprised at how many stupid mammals are out there," he chuckled, caressing her hip. "They outnumber the smart ones a thousand to one." His phone buzzed again, drawing an amused smile from Margaret.

"You have a lot of fans," she said, looking up at him. "It's been buzzing all afternoon."

"Just a lot of folks wanting someone to listen to their stories," he dismissed, looking at the message displayed and shaking his head.

"Anything important?" she asked, stroking his cheek.

He chuckled. "Just another fan who thinks the news is fake."

"I don't blame them," she sighed, "I might also, under the circumstances."

"You worried about your family?" he asked, tenderly, his paw wandering down from her hip.

"Honestly?" she answered, her leg turning a bit. "I can't stand them, but I don't want anything bad to happen to them either—most of them, anyway."

Vince chuckled, his paw cupping her crotch. "I meant about the attack that just happened," he told her. Margaret giggled, turning onto her back and shifting her legs so his paw could get lower between them.

"With as much time as Dad puts into Civil Defense training for the burrow? He's a war Vet, Vince. You'd need an entire army to get to the door." Her legs came up, her thighs clamping around his arm while his fingers found their way inside her. The buck leaned down for a kiss.

"That's good," he said, kissing her on the muzzle. "Can't have my bunny all worried now, can I?" She shook her head, paws clasping around his neck, extending the kiss while his fingers caressed her.

"How come we never hooked up before?" she ventured, arching her back with pleasure. Vince grinned.

"Probably because I haven't slept with Elena," he told her, seriously. "Isn't it better being first?" Margaret's face darkened momentarily, but Vince's fingers were deft and very skilled, making her moan with pleasure instead of bursting out with anger.

Margaret gasped, shivering. "Why haven't you slept with Elena?" she asked, curiously.

"She has some funny ideas about kits," Vince laughed. "Which makes a lot of sense since you told me she's seeing a fox now."

Margaret swallowed, her hips rocking against his paw. "She doesn't want kits," she moaned, closing her eyes.

"It's just not natural," the buck sighed. "I prefer natural-minded females." Margaret was breathing hard now, not really listening, and Vince was aroused by her responsiveness. He quickly got up and brought the doe to her knees on the couch, kneeling behind her. With a loud groan, he entered her, thrusting slowly to Margaret's ever-louder moans. "You don't mind kits, do you, Marge?" The doe shook her head, emphatically.

"I want them," she purred. "Do you?"

"When the right bunny comes along," he panted, picking up the pace.

"Am I that bunny?" she purred.

"Why don't we find out?" he said, pulling her tightly against him and exploding inside her. She kept still, until his paw reached beneath her to caress her more sensitive spot, then she moaned loudly and fell over the edge herself, quivering against the buck. When they had both spent themselves, she looked over her shoulder at him.

"Are you trying to get me pregnant, Vince?" she panted. He shook his head, caressing her hips.

"Nope," he said, stroking her tail. "Just seeing what happens naturally. You'd make a good wife." She blushed at that.

"I don't even know how to cook," she mumbled in response.

"You can always get someone for that," he laughed. "But if a bunny doe can't satisfy the natural needs of a male, you might as well not even date her."

The sound of the front door unlocking made them both look up as Tom came in with a slightly drunk brown-and-white bunny doe in tow. He stopped mid-stride, his companion running into him with a huff.

"Margaret?" he stammered, catching sight of the naked couple on the couch. "What are you doing?"

The two lovers laughed at the buck's confused expression. "A thousand to one," Vince repeated, making Margaret laugh even harder.

6:54 PM

After showering, Kataiahs took over the infirmary with Trina, Judy, and Elena, treating the various wounded. Trina was an actual nurse, while Judy and Elena had Emergency First Aid training. Everyone was treated in order of severity, the lynx efficiently triaging the various mammals with uncanny skill to those who didn't know his true identity.

"Oh, I served in the war," he told the curious by way of explanation, truthfully—just not which wars.

Bunnyburrow Emergency Services had no available ambulances to send: The afternoon had been violent throughout the Commonwealth, with the usually sleepy Bunnyburrow taking its fair share of casualties. That the Hopps Farm could handle their own wounded was a blessing. They could also hold their prisoners until the proper authorities were able to arrive.

The token Bunnyburrow Sheriff's Department car blocked the entrance to the Hopps Farm, having first verified the Hoppses had the situation under control. The flashing lights from the vehicle reflected off the twin carrot-shaped gates, adding dramatic overtones to the broadcasts from the various news crews on site. The Story of the Decade was turning into the Story of the Century, fueled by the excited reporters.

The ceiling-mounted TV in the infirmary was showing BunnyVision News while the wounded were cared for. The least serious cases had already been taken care of by Jack, Reggie and Skye, who had field medic training, courtesy of the ZIA. The ones who needed actual surgery took longer, and required Kataiahs' attention. As each came in, they were put under anesthesia so conversation could take place between Kataiahs and his team, as he came to think of them. And, though still groggy and confined to a cot, Nick was conscious enough to participate, with everyone in clean hospital garb and masks.

"...and I find it particularly disturbing," Jack was saying, "that they knew exactly where Kurt and Blackwell were."

"I hate to restate the obvious," Kataiahs said, extracting a bullet from a ferret's shoulder, "but your communications have been compromised."

"The only problem with that," Jack pointed out, "is that they were under comms blackout. I gave them orders to take position without informing anyone of where they were, and only report by encoded burst text transmission. I am told messages under 100 words are impossible to trace. They were told to keep them below twenty, and they only sent two messages, hours apart."

Kataiahs considered that while sewing up the wound. "It does seem very unlikely," he said, tying up the sutures. "Unless your entire system is compromised. Although there is no technology currently available in Mammaldom to do that."

"Or," murmured Nick from the cot, "you have a spy."

"We know about Packland," Skye agreed. "Maybe there is someone else we missed?"

"When the phones are working again, we can check with Matilda," Jack proposed. "See if any new information has cropped up."

"I don't suppose the wounded know anything useful?" Reggie asked.

"Nothing so far," Kataiahs confessed, somewhat embarrassed. "I have been discreetly asking them while they go under anesthesia."

Trina cleared her throat. "You should tell them, sir," she said, firmly.

"Tell them what?" Nick asked.

"They are members of the Grey Heart Brigade," the black doe answered, distastefully.

"Here? In Bunnyburrow?" Jack said, surprised.

"Grey who?" Elena asked.

"Grey Heart Brigade," Skye told them. "A terrorist faction mostly active Mid-continent. I didn't know there were any operatives in Zootopia."

"Guess they only had that small army," Nick quipped, "makes them much harder to detect."

"Give it a rest," Judy chided her mate. "Who are they, and what do they want?"

"There have always been those who believed Mammaldom did best under Tuzhei rule," Kataiahs recounted, doing a final inspection of his patient. "Over the years, struggling mammals have exaggerated the tales of prosperity, ignoring the obvious faults of the Empire under the yoke of their own troubles." The lynx paused while two of Judy's brothers came in and took the patient away, another pair quickly following with a new one. Trina put the anesthesia mask over the injured hedgehog. Kataiahs leaned down to whisper into the groggy mammal's ear.

"Long live… the… Emp...i…" was all the response he got. Quickly getting to work with Trina expertly handing him instruments, the lynx continued.

"After the Canine Wars, when the Empire fragmented," he told them, "what is now Grandterre was believed by many to be the rightful...heirs to the Empire. For many years, so did Grandterre, and they did their best to bring the old pieces of the Empire back together. Usually through violence."

"Not our proudest moment," Trina mumbled, passing him a scalpel.

"It is all in the past," the lynx said. "To go on, the rest of Mammaldom was not keen on the idea of a restored Empire and protested quite vigorously."

"You mean the Hundred Year War?" Jack supplied.

"Among others," Kataiahs said, pulling out a bullet. "The Southern nations remained neutral, determined to preserve Zootopia intact. Back then, the entire South was pro-Zootopia. That left the remaining nations balanced. Perhaps too balanced: the ensuing stalemate is what made the wars last so long. So, I decided to intervene. I set up the Matriarchy in Grandterre, removing the old Imperial bloodline from the ruling class, and that was enough to end the wars."

"Set up the Matriarchy?" Elena asked. "How? Did the old ruling class simply agree to that?"

Kataiahs laughed. "Nothing that simple, of course," he said. "It took several decades. And some... persuading."

"How many did you kill?" Jack wondered.

"Personally?" the lynx said, innocently. "Not a single one. But there might have been some who interpreted my intentions along those lines. Nobody, not even the Granterrines, wanted the wars to continue. Eventually, when the old bloodline was almost wiped out, they decided the Matriarchy was an amenable alternative. They still maintained their wealth and prominence, just not their direct rulership. The old Imperial blood runs strong through the Matriarchs, just not exclusively; all said, they have turned out most impressive."

"History lesson aside," Nick commented, "how does this 'Grey Heart Brigade' tie in?"

"Slavery," Trina answered, bitterly. "They were born of slavery."

"They were slaves?" Judy asked. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Not slaves," Kataiahs clarified. "Slave owners."

"The Hyuxin Rebellion," Jack added while the lynx removed a bullet fragment. "I never tied in the name; makes sense, however."

"Care to enlighten us?" Nick said.

"Hyuxin roughly translates to Grey Heart," the striped buck told him. "Lord Hyuxin was a prominent Grandterrine scholar who advocated the reinstatement of the Empire. He wrote a series of treatises on the benefits of Imperial rule, and how it could be easily reinstated with general acceptance without violence."

"Yes," Kataiahs admitted. "It was brilliant. But he forgot that most of Mammaldom objected to one particular requirement: slavery. Perhaps owning several thousand slaves clouded his personal judgement on the matter. When the Matriarch finally had enough of his pushing the matter at every Council session, she made slavery illegal in Grandterre in a very a close vote."

"Effectively killing any chance of resurrecting the Empire," Jack concluded.

"And he didn't take it well, I guess," Nick said.

"He was a good mammal," Kataiahs recounted. "Once overruled, he accepted the decision of the Council. His followers, however, did not. They planted a bomb in the Council chamber; it killed many, including Lord Hyuxin."

"And the Matriarch," Jack added. "It was the first successful assassination of a Matriarch." Trina almost corrected him about the fate of her ancestor, but Kataiahs shook his head; there was no need to rewrite History, even if it was wrong.

"There was a lot of rubbish written about Lord Hyuxin 'giving his life for the movement,'" Kataiahs went on. "Though, in truth, he was killed because he opposed it."

"How long ago was this?" Nick asked.

"About a hundred and fifty years," Jack said. Kataiahs nodded.

"Long time to hold a grudge," Nick mumbled.

"They're more like a cult," Trina told him. "Worshipping the old Empire like some deity, doing whatever it takes to resurrect it."

"They were supposedly wiped out in the Commonwealth," Skye noted. "I guess we will have to update that opinion."

"Did you notice their weapons?" Kataiahs hinted.

"Yeah," Jack said. "Ruylanian, not Commonwealth. They're getting support from outside." The buck jumped up. "Arthur's wife!" He exclaimed, starting to pace. "Candace. She was sleeping with a Ruylanian agent who Arthur killed the night before he resigned. He cited not noticing the affair for so long as a main reason for his resigning." He stopped, slapping his paws together. "Patricia Packland! Her family immigrated as refugees from Ruylania."

Skye tilted her head. "I first met Octavio Belyiklyk while he served at the Baratean Embassy in Ruylania three years ago," she said. "Just before his assignment in Zootopia."

"I think we have a pattern here," Judy said.

"I'm not sure I'd call it a pattern, Fluff," Nick said, thoughtfully. "But there are too many mentions of Ruylania for it to be just a coincidence."

"What do we know about them?" Elena asked.

"Secretive," Jack said. "With a history of aggression towards Bunnyburrow."

"Gengris Bun's brother thought he deserved a bigger kingdom," Kataiahs said with disgust. "They've been sniping at Bunnyburrow since it was founded."

Jack's phone buzzed, making everyone look at the device. "Guess we have phones," the buck said, answering. "Hello, Matty," he said, cheerfully. "Just the mammal I wanted to speak with."

"You survived, then," the sheep replied. "Good. I really didn't want to run the entire Agency."

Jack put the phone on speaker mode. "That sounds really ominous, Matty. How bad is it?" Matilda gave Jack a rundown on the casualties.

"They were mostly small operations, two or three hostiles per team," Matilda informed them. "Very well coordinated and supplied. But most were not very smart, like a bunch of amateurs hastily thrown into a long planned op."

"I suppose we were the exception," Jack said. "We were hit by over forty mammals. Apparently, Grey Heart Brigade."

"GHB? In Bunnyburrow?" the sheep said with disbelief, then paused before continuing. "There have been mentions of faded tattoos," she continued. "We'll have to look into it when the dust settles."

"I'm going to put Reggie Todwell in charge of S&T," Jack said. "Any objections?"

"The computer geek?" Matilda said, doubtfully.

"Hey," Reggie protested. "I'm right here, you know!"

"Hi, Reggie," the sheep greeted, unabashedly. "No offense, but you've always told me you didn't care much about tech that wasn't software." The tod blushed.

"Well, my eyes have recently been opened to the joys of hardware," he replied, eyes on Elena's. "I-I can do the job, Matilda. I know I can. Yes. I got this. Come to think about it, it won't be any harder than—"

"And you realize it's going to make you a target, right?" Matilda pushed. "They're still scraping Director Eastmore off his patio doors." Reggie cringed, but Elena squeezed his paw, making him sit up straight.

"Matilda," he said, defiantly. "I've been a live target all day; I learned how to duck."

"That's the spirit!" Jack said, clapping. "His first task will be to make a new encryption protocol for the comm systems." Matilda immediately grasped the point.

"About time," she said, chuckling casually. "OK. I'm on my way to the station to pick up a hot ram for dinner, Jack. I'll check in with you later. Try to stay out of trouble."

"Give my regards to the boys," he told her, giving the final go for Ramstein's team to leave for Baratea.

"Will do," Matilda acknowledged, then hanged up.

"Shouldn't we have told her about the weapons?" Judy asked, confused.

"Not when we doubt our comms are secure," Jack told her. "We didn't really communicate anything our potential eavesdroppers would not know."

"Except for putting me in charge of S&T," Reggie mumbled.

"There are not many other candidates suitable for the job, Reggie," Skye reassured. "You are probably already on any 'list' of critical personnel our enemy has put together, if their information is as good as it seems."

"Not a comfort, Skye," Reggie murmured. Elena stroked his paw, nuzzling his cheek.

There was a loud rumbling, making everyone stare at Nick.

"Hey," he complained. "It's been a long time since breakfast and I only had berries for lunch."

"That was the last patient," Kataiahs said, taking off the surgical gloves. "I propose we take our cue from Nick and break for dinner."

"I second," said Jack. "I am famished enough to eat a bugburger." Nick's stomach growled even louder.

7:45 PM

"I'm parked at the curb," Matilda told Marcus, towing the large ram by the hoof towards the grey car parked in front of one of Savannah Central's many side entrances. A ZPD traffic officer was standing in front of the car, running the license plate in preparation to writing a citation. The officer looked up as the two sheep approached.

"I know you know this is a no parking zone," the uniformed gazelle scolded.

"Official business," Matilda replied officiously, showing him her ZIA ID.

"I don't care if you're the Mayor," the officer said, pulling out his citation pad to the amusement of several passersby. "You're still getting a ticket." Standing by the trunk of the grey car, Marcus was about to enter into the argument when something caught his attention.

"Matty," he said, bending down to look under the vehicle. "Something's blinking back here."

"What?" she said, turning to look at him.

8:02 PM

The Hopps kitchen was busy serving late dinner as the burrow slowly returned to normal. Several armed bunnies were out patrolling the property in large groups, just to be sure no hostile stragglers remained. Those on the patrols had been first to eat, with the remainder of the burrow just now being served.

Judy's group commandeered the table under the TV, which provided the most privacy. The sound from the large monitor was loud enough to reach the entire dining area while leaving the table beneath quiet enough to hold a conversation. A BunnyVision news flash caught the group's attention, the bulletin starting with a colorful depiction of an exploding stick of dynamite that shrank to a picture next to a somber-faced rabbit.

"Today's unprecedented outbreak of violence continues throughout the Commonwealth," the news anchor began, "as just moments ago, an explosion rocked Zootopia's Savannah District. We now go live, to our own Darcy Brightpaw, for details outside Savannah Central Train Station. Darcy?"

"Yes, Roger," came the voice of a pretty bunny doe, the screen changing to a view with smoke rising behind the bunny from the burning remains of an automobile in front of Savannah Central, half a block away. "As you can see behind me," the doe continued, "the violence that has shaken the Commonwealth rages on." The camera zoomed in briefly to show several injured mammals strewn around, with others milling about attempting to render first aid, then zoomed back out to show the reporter.

"Our Zootopia office is located only half a block from the station, allowing us to bring you this exclusive live footage," the reporter announced. "About 10 minutes ago, our office shook from the force of an explosion, apparently from the vehicle you can see still burning in front of the station." The camera zoomed again to the burning vehicle. "First responders are just beginning to arrive at this horrific scene."

The sound of sirens could be heard approaching, then an ambulance and a firetruck raced past the camera, coming to a stop close to the burning vehicle, firefighters and EMTs spilling out of the emergency vehicles to deal with the situation. Police cars also arrived, parking their cruisers crosswise to block the road.

"While we don't know the cause of the explosion," the bunny continued. "Given the day's events, it is reasonable to speculate an explosive device and, considering the location of the vehicle—a designated no-parking zone—we cannot rule out an intentional attack on the train station."

Skye's in-drawn breath brought the group's attention to her.

"Didn't Matilda say she was picking up Marcus at Savannah Station?" she gasped.

"Bloody hell!" Jack exclaimed.

Author's Note:

There is a lot going on trying to keep our heroes off-balance. Will it work? We'll find out soon!

As always, thanks for reading!