Prologue:
A story never really begins. It's simply picked up where the last person left it.
-Albert Longtail
Journey begins and Journey's End
"Come on Cap, I'm sure we can get you singing a song written in our lifetime, or at least this century," Roxy teased Macwolf with a grin.
"Not sure anything good been written in your lifetime, girl," Captain Stan Macwolf responded to the young Cougar and his Chief Mate. "Now ease that throttle down a notch. You want to ease into port, not ram the entire city," he said, watching Roxy's paws on the tiller. He stood in the wheelhouse and looked out over the deck as Roxy eased the Polina into her berth at the docks and with only a slight bump as she came to rest. Crewmen threw ropes towards waiting paws and claws to tie her off and secure her, officially ending her weeks at sea. The sun was just setting behind the city line and Zootopia was bathed in a crimson and gold glow.
"Yep, sea chanties and songs about shipwrecks do represent the pinnacle of mammal achievement," she said with a tone of mock seriousness, powering down the engines before walking over and grabbing a pair of binoculars and peering down at the crew below. Reaching for the intercom, "Jackson, I will shave your fur, shove it up your ass and mail you to your grandmother as a throw pillow if you dent that crane arm!"
"I'll give you the Beagles had a few good tunes, till they became long furred hippies."
Not that Stan would admit to having 'Tabby Road' on vinyl and his digital play list. Must maintain some dignity in my image as the bitter old sea captain, he thought to himself.
"Ok, so we are closer to the modern era with music recorded in my parents' lifetime. I'm just saying, Cap, come out with us to the Hoppy Pouch, have a few drinks and laugh at Jackson and Gordon's Karaoke duet… shit." Roxy quickly keyed the intercom over to the deck speaker. "Did I say that anyone could disembark! Get back to your office and finish the customs forms, Harry, or I'll turn one of the shipping containers into a brig and throw you in!" Several very small figures scurried back from the lowered gangplank and aborted their attempt at early shore leave.
"Nice catch, Roxy, not sure I would have spotted them." Eyes just not what they used to be.
"Damn rat, ship's not even sinking," she muttered.
Roxy had been by his side for ten years now. If Stan Macwolf had been a betting wolf, and he was, he would have bet his mother's last dollar that the short, timid, girl Hell practically a kitten that had set foot on his bridge as an apprentice all those years ago wouldn't last the first leg of a trip. She had spent the first week losing breakfast, lunch, and dinner over the side, and it had taken Macwolf yelling enough for both of them to get her to speak over a small frightened squeak. When they had finished unloading in Hamsterdam he hadn't expected to see her again. Yet there she was, that morning and for every loading day. Oh, she still lost breakfast on that return trip, but the cat eventually took to the sea like, well anything other than a cat. She had steel under her light orange fur and the Polina had served as the furnace.
Two marriages, two divorces, and no pups to show for his decades on the sea. Yet somehow Roxy had become as close to a daughter as he was likely to have. She knew the ship and the sea routes almost as well as he did at this point. It had taken a bit before she got over her shyness, but once she did her creative use of vocabulary managed occasionally to shock even him. Couldn't be prouder if she was my own flesh and blood.
"Alright, Ms. Dawson, final checks before you have to follow through on the threats to put down an insurrection. The sun is going down and the bars of Sahara Square are open."
He let her take the lead through the narrow passage from the bridge down, past what served as the mess hall and out onto the open deck. Crew members big and small hurried about making final checks and securing the boat for her coming weeks in port. Roxy came up short as Milo and Melvin, the two weasel machinists, came rushing through the doorway and nearly plowed into them.
"Sorry, Captain, Ma'am," Melvin said, tipping his hardhat towards Roxy. "Turbine 3 is acting up and we're afraid it's about to blow the compressor."
"Double check the coolant and the shifters, let me know by tomorrow if you can't get them synched," Roxy said as the two weasels disappeared down a hatch. "Damn thing's been nothing but trouble for months. Cap, you'll have to replace Turbine 3 in a year at the latest, mark my words," she said shaking her head and heading towards the stacks.
Oh, I don't think I'll be replacing anything next year. He thought to himself as he followed behind and surveyed the ship.
To call the Polina a true freighter or cargo ship would be a stretch. She was dwarfed in nearly every port by the mammoth modern shipping behemoths. His father had purchased the ship when he was still a pup and had converted her from a medium fishing trawler into what passed as a small cargo ship. What had once been tanks full of fish was now a hold of goods shipped across the world, half of below deck is handbags from Antlerwerp. What she lacked in size and capacity she made up for in speed. Small and quick beats a lumbering oaf, as his dad would say. Want to get your goods to market a few days faster? Call Macwolf! Bought your wife a new car for her birthday and forgot to ship it? The Polina will get it there! Even charged that bear extra to put a ribbon on.
A mechanical humming overhead caught his attention as the onboard crane whirred to life and joltingly started to move into position to grab the first of the shipping containers on the top deck. A few priority rush containers would be removed tonight and the account holders charged for the quick delivery, the rest would be taken out tomorrow once the docks reopened. Despite, or more likely because of Roxy's threats, Alexi Jackson carefully lowered the arm of the crane while waiting crew secured lines around it.
Roxy had grabbed a clipboard and disappeared into the stack of around a dozen shipping containers stored on the top deck. "Some mangy halfwits miscounted one of these," she muttered out of site, "label numbers don't match the register."
Macwolf followed at a distance into the winding maze of stacked shipping containers. This Polina was the third ship to hold that name, and Macwolf figured the last. His great grandfather had sailed the first Polina back when there where sails to sail with, and not much but the stars and shoddy maps to guide. That first Polina was remembered in the large gold and silver pin that he wore on his jacket. The round pin held the outline of that long gone sailing ship, her two masts filled by an eternal wind as she crested silver frozen waves. His grandfather had molded the gold pin himself on the very day that he had sailed that ship for the last time.
The ships had changed from sail to steam to gas, and from father to son to him but the name and reputation for quickness hadn't. "If the gods are going to judge the quick and the dead, well I'd rather be amongst the quick," he could still hear his grandfather saying. He could have, probably if he was smart should have, sold her off to one of the conglomerates a decade ago but somehow that seemed a sad way to end the family name. Still all good things…
"Roxy! I've got it all set up," a cheerful voice called from off to his left. The voice was low, as if the speaker didn't want others to hear. Funny thing about these metal shipping containers, they echo, Macwolf smiled to himself, this should be fun to see.
"It's got a queen large mammal bed, and a Jacuzzi! Kitten, I'll let you…. What?"
Macwolf chose that moment to round the edge of the container and take in the sight of Roxy staring angry death towards the approaching Marcus Gordon. The mountain lion stood head and shoulders taller than Roxy but you wouldn't know it from the way he practically skidded to a stop and shrunk back from Roxy's furious gaze. The look of confusion turned to brief panic when he saw Macwolf step into view. He quickly snapped to attention.
"I'll let you, ummm, know that, uhhh the rates at that place, The Karoo Oasis.. Where I, myself will be staying, are very affordable, Ms. Dawson, Ma'am."
"Yes! Thank you, Mr. Gordon, for that information," Roxy growled, trying desperately regain her composure. "That was what I asked you to do, check local accommodations, for the crew," casting a quick sideways glance towards the captain.
Remus above, do they really think I'm that blind and dumb, the wolf thought to himself.
"Do all of the rooms at the Karoo Oasis have queen large mammal beds, Mr. Gordon?" Macwolf asked in an even but stern tone. If they thought him dumb and blind he might as well enjoy playing the part.
"Ahh, no sir, I paid extra for the bigger bed."
"And do all the rooms have Jacuzzis, Mr. Gordon?"
"No sir, I think that was another upgrade," Gordon said, focusing on a point just off the captain's left shoulder. Roxy meanwhile had suddenly developed a keen interest in examining the label of the nearest container.
"So, you've found a place and upgraded to the bigger bed and got yourself a Jacuzzi tub for the two weeks before we ship back out? Do I have that correct Mr. Gordon?"
"Yes, yes sir," was all Marcus could say. Stan was impressed that Marcus now met his eyes without a hint of flinching. He held the pause for an extra beat, allowing the silence to engulf the three of them.
"Good! After so long at sea it's worth a bit more to get out of the cramped bunks and a proper bath. Go tell the rest of the crew."
Marcus and Roxy exchanged a confused look at this before Roxie's eyes widened in understanding. "Sir?" Marcus hesitantly asked.
"Ms. Dawson asked you to check this Karoo Oasis as a possible place for crewman to stay, well now that you've done that, I want each member to know what you've found. Be sure every member of the crew knows about the option for larger beds and the price for the Jacuzzi upgrade."
"And be quick about it, Mr. Gordon," Roxie jumped in. "If it's not done in the next hour you'll be lucky if I don't pull the gangplank up with you on it." She pointed her finger and Marcus quickly jumped and scurried away to do the Chief Mate's bidding. Over acted it a bit girl, Macwolf thought, hiding a chuckle.
Macwolf had to give the pair of them credit. It really had taken him too long to see what was clear as his snout or the stars on a clear night at sea. Sure, besides Roxy, the Polina had had feline crew from time to time. Tigers, a couple lions, and even a few other cougars had all worked the deck. Still, the sayings of cats and the sea had proved true more often than not, and most had moved on after a trip or two. Marcus Gordon was now somewhere around his seventh tour on the Polina and proved a more than able deck claw. It was probably the fourth trip when Macwolf realized that love of the sea may not have been the only love that brought him back.
The lingering glances that Marcus held when she walked by, or how Roxy spent extra time supervising the deck crew and always seemed be peering through the binoculars when he climbed the stacks had given way to hushed conversations and awkward pauses when Macwolf walked into a room.
Roxy had tried to cover with what Macwolf figured must at least be on the same page as the oldest trick on the book. "Mr. Gordon! Do you feed the maggots that make up your brain or are they brain dead as well?" The old fake anger and toughness on her fellow cougar had even fooled Macwolf for a time, and it seemed wherever he turned Roxy would be berating the crewman for one thing or another.
Yet young lovers tend to forget that their elders have been around the block a time or two and that small ships don't leave a lot of spaces for secret trysts. He had nearly ended the ruse by accident last voyage one evening when he went down into the engine room. Descending the ladder his ears had picked up Roxy's muttered curse and the shuffling of mammals in a hurry.
"If you spill one drop of hydraulic or hurt my thrusters I swear I'll give you an oar and make you paddle us in!... Oh hi Cap," Roxy had cheerfully said as he rounded the corner and found her standing over Marcus who was carefully refilling the hydraulics tank, the same tank I just filled an hour ago. Also, neither of them was wearing shoes and one of their shirts was inside out, I'll have to start wearing a cow's bell on my own ship! He had settled for humming an old tune whenever he found himself in supposedly deserted parts of the ship. They had only grown bolder on this last trip, three times he had ventured into the stacks late at night and swore he heard soft whispering voices or seen two darting shadows. He had finally given up and let the lovers have their "secret" space.
Oh, he should have been mad. Insubordination, fraternization with crew, all bad for maintaining a seaworthy ship and against a century of regulation and practice. Howl it to the devil for all I care, he thought. Maybe he had gone soft in his old age but seeing Roxy happy and with an extra bounce in her step didn't seem like a bad thing. Besides, she could certainly do a lot worse than pairing off with someone apparently willing to be yelled at all day for the pleasure of quiet sneaking at night. Still it seemed that the fakery was wearing thin on both ends and after this long it clearly wasn't some seasonal fling.
The next hour was spent doing final checks, and releasing members of the crew a few at a time as they completed preparing the Polina for unloading and the two weeks in port. Macwolf made good on his threat and stopped several crewmen and asked them if they had heard about the Jacuzzi option at the Karoo Oasis.
"I'm surrounded by water, for weeks at a time, and now you want me to risk drowning in more!" Harry, their ships purser muttered as he scurried off the ship, the rat soon disappearing into the lengthening shadows. Finally, Macwolf was left with just the two secret amorous cats aboard. One last bit of fun for an old captain he thought to himself. Roxy was below deck still checking and rechecking the cargo manifest for errors when Macwolf called Marcus into the wheelhouse. He entered the wheelhouse and handed his captain the latest city newspaper, City Mayor arrested in wide ranging conspiracy! The headline declared.
" So that Lionheart finally managed to bite his own tail off?" Macwolf commented before looking further down the article " Wait...what?" he said as his eyes landed on the photo of an angry sheep sitting in a jail cell.
" Yeah, looks like it's been an interesting few months since the last time we docked in the city." Marcus said
Stan just shook his head. Just when he thought that this city couldn't get any stranger.
"You've been on the Polina for a while now Mr. Gordon. Six trips now back and forth from Zootopia?" he said with his back to the cougar, looking out the window and over the dark deck.
"Nine, sir," Marcus answered, his voice holding just a trace of his nervousness.
"More than most felines can claim, if you'll forgive me for trading in species stereotypes."
"Ahh, yes sir, not many cougars on the sea. Well, Rox… Ms. Dawson," he quickly corrected.
"Yes, and you've proven yourself an able and impressive member of our crew. It's actually Ms. Dawson that I wanted to discuss with you Mr. Gordon." Macwolf turned around to face Marcus in time to see his eyes go wide and his jaw clench.
"It's my fault really," Macwolf began, holding his hands up in the air. "She's served with me so long that I view her as family, hell, I'd personally kill anyone that hurt her…. And maybe that's blinded me to what's been going on."
"I can explain captain, see I'm the.." but Macwolf interrupted.
"She's hard on all the crew, but clearly her treatment of you borders on abusive. I don't know if it's you, Mr. Gordon, or if she just resents another cougar being a successful sailor. I should have stepped in and put an end to it before now. I'm afraid that I don't see a good solution to it other than to separate you. But I promise it will be to your benefit."
Marcus stood with his mouth falling open and his brow furrowing and unfurrowing amazingly quickly.
"Separate us!?" He sputtered out, interrupting the old wolf. "Sir, yes she can be tough but she has served as ahh.. a good teacher of the ship."
"That may be true, Mr. Gordon, but she does appear to unfairly target you. I've made inquiries and the Aurora is docked here in Zootopia and with need of a new deck chief."
"The Aurora sir? But she—"
"Oh, our biggest rival sure, still, Captain Mawson is a good enough fellow. It would mean a very nice pay bump and you would have crew mammals reporting to you for a change. Chance to be in command, and no more Roxy yelling at you."
"Captain, thank you, but I respectfully decline. I'd prefer to continue aboard the Polina, yelling Roxy or not. Don't think I would like it as much aboard the Aurora or any other ship, sort of hard to explain. If you'll still have me aboard that is, sir," he finished, nervously glancing down towards his paws and around the cabin.
Well, that proves it Roxy, you've got good taste in mates, better than I ever did at least. He smiled to himself. Not everyone would turn down the promotion and pay raise to stay with a mate. He thought back to the envelope on his desk, sometimes the stars really did line up.
"No, it's not hard to explain at all, I think you'll always find a home aboard the Polina."
The sound of paws climbing the stairwell from the lower decks to the wheelhouse brought his attention back to Marcus.
"So, you believe that you could work even more closely with Ms. Dawson?"
"Well, yes sir, I don't think that would be a problem."
Roxy rounded the corner to find the curious site of Marcus and the Captain both regarding her, Marcus with a look of relief, and Captain Stan with a barely suppressed smirk.
"Am I interrupting something here, Cap?" she asked, waving a clipboard in her right paw.
"No, Roxy, this concerns you as well, I was just discussing with Mr. Gordon his future here on the ship."
Now it was Roxy's turn to look concerned. "Oh?" she asked nonchalantly, her interest rapidly turning to the manifest she was holding.
"Yes, and I hope the two of you can put aside whatever animosity you have for each other." Roxy and Marcus both shot sideways looks at each other. "Mr. Gordon here will be the new Polina bosun when we leave port in two weeks. He'll report directly to you, Roxy."
The stunned look of shock and surprise on their faces was nearly payment enough to make the whole thing worthwhile for Macwolf. Roxy looked back and forth between Marcus and Stan, while Marcus kept opening and closing his muzzle, neither one of them apparently remembering how to speak.
"Bosun sir? But, I didn't—" Macwolf cut him off midsentence.
"Have proved yourself more than capable, you've earned the crew's respect and I trust you to raise to this challenge." He turned towards the still stunned Roxy. "Now I was just saying to Mr. Gordon that I worry that the two of you need to work on your professional relationship. Roxy, if Mr. Gordon is going to be working under you, I suggest you take a gentler approach."
It had been years since he had seen Roxy blush, but her ears were now about the same shade as a fresh tomato. Marcus was overtaken by a sudden coughing fit and couldn't meet either of them in the eye. A small smirk managed to break through Macwolf's attempt at a stern exterior, only a quick grin, but Roxy's eyes flashed in suspicion.
"Yes Cap, I think we can find a way to work together," she said, her teeth suddenly clenching.
"Good, and I think I will be joining you all at the bar later, lots of things to catch up on.
Mr. Gordon perhaps you could wait outside and escort Ms. Dawson while I finish up here. Give you guys a chance to get to know each other outside the ship. Besides, the dockyards aren't the safest area of the city at this hour."
"Yes, Captain Sir, and thank you for the honor. I'll be just on the pier, Roxy, when you're done… ma'am." Marcus, eager for the chance to escape, moved for the exit but not before Stan caught the smile that passed between him and Roxy. Roxy watched him head down the stairs as a sudden silence filled the wheelhouse. Macwolf looked out the windows over the shadowy ship that had served as his home for nearly fifty years, illuminated now by a few electric lights and the glow of the city behind them. They both watched in silence as Marcus walked off the gangplank and took up position under one of the lights that dotted the pier.
Finally, it was Macwolf who broke the silence with a small chuckle that turned into a full laugh when he saw Roxy's face flash with embarrassed anger.
"You bastard! How long?!" she yelled, her voice a mix of anger and maybe a note of relief.
"How long! I should ask you how long did you think I was blind and dumb on my own ship?"
"So you knew? I swore we were careful."
"Well most of my crew are known to wear shoes in the engine room."
Roxy's brow furrowed as she tried to remember. "And you generally have the good habit of wearing your clothes with the tags on the inside." Roxy's eyes widened as she remembered what she thought was a close call all those months ago.
"Oh gods, that long?" her voice fell and suddenly she couldn't meet Stan's eyes. "I didn't mean for it to happen, I know it's wrong, Hell below, he even tried to end it," she said, starting to pace around the bridge in agitation, her tail quickly twitching back and forth. "I take full responsibility. He's a good sailor, Stan, and this is my fault."
Macwolf watched as his flustered Chief Mate continued to pace and struggle with her apparent shame.
"He turned down the Aurora for you, Roxy," he said softly. Roxy stopped in her tracks and looked back, a look of confusion mixed with a smile.
"He did what?"
"Captain Mawson radioed this afternoon looking for a new bosun. I offered it to Marcus just five minutes ago. Turned it down without a thought. Said something about not wanting to leave this ship."
Her shoulders sagged and a grin spread across her face as she looked out the large windows of the bridge towards the figure of Marcus, outlined in the darkness and slowly pacing the dock back and forth.
"The goof," she said her grin spreading from ear to ear.
"He is a good sailor, and he'll make a good bosun, forgive me for my own little test to see if he's good enough for you."
"And does he pass this test, oh captain my captain?" Roxy said. She had recovered from embarrassment and now seemed ready to inflect revenge. Macwolf allowed himself a smile.
"I've seen relationships sour quickly on a ship, you've seen how even small bickering between crew can hurt morale, how do you think a fight between lovers goes? Can't take a day to cool off your claws and avoid each other when the wind is coming and the waves crest the deck. So is he worth it?"
Roxy was quiet for a moment, still staring out the window. "Yeah," she finally answered. "Yes, he is. I know why it's a bad idea so you can save the lecture," she said, turning away from him. "Remus drag me to hell, but I love him, Stan, even if it's bad for crew cohesion, morale and if..."
"Then you'll make it work," Macwolf interrupted. Roxy looked up in surprise, her ears perked. "Would I have played dumb this long if I thought you wouldn't handle it or it risked the ship?"
"I just figured that you would view it as a mistake and poor life judgement."
Stan shrugged. "And it might just be, but then again I chose to spend my life sailing this rusty tub from one end of the world to the other." He thought for a moment before continuing. "Do you remember that first trip around Horn Cape?"
She did, of course. Not many sailors forget their first trip around the infamous Horn Cape and her stormy sea. The storms that year had been the worst that Captain Macwolf could remember. Roxy had been aboard some four months and had finally found her sea footing, but the waves and the wind that day would challenge the stomach of any mammal afloat. The Polina was tossed, little more than a cub's bath toy, by waves that stretched beyond and above the horizon. Macwolf's hands fused to the controls trying to keep the ship heading straight while judging the cresting waves.
Roxy, holding onto the railing and trying desperately to stay upright, had made her way up to the bridge and stood... well, tried to stand along the back wall, looking out at the mountainous waves just as one crashed down onto the deck and into the wheelhouse with the force of a massive fist. The Polina groaned as her bow slowly lifted out of the water, only to disappear again as wave after wave crashed down as if the sea itself was attempting to pull her down.
"I'm not much for praying Roxy, but that night might have been the closest I've come to joining the priesthood. Yet I look behind me, see you standing right over there," he gestured towards the railing that ran along the back of the room, "grinning like we were just taking a spin on a carnival ride! You stood there watching for the next five hours and I figured out right there that you were either crazy, an idiot, or both and cursed to be a sailor."
Roxy let out a snort "I was scared shitless, Cap, if you must know. I guess I wanted to be able to see what was happening. If I was going to die I at least wanted to see the wave that drowned us. Not just be cowering in my bunk with the rest."
"Oh, I'd have been more worried if you weren't scared, but that night I saw you grin at the devil himself." He smiled as he imagined the image. "My point is, I've known you a long time and you don't back down from a challenge. If you decide that you and Marcus are worth the work, then gods drown anyone who stands in your way."
The last of her tension seemed to fade at his words. She wouldn't admit it to him, but it did mean a lot to her to have his approval. "Thanks Cap, you know... I think you'll like Marcus once you know him better. Bosun duties aside."
"Well, give me a bit to finish up here. Get out of here and I'll meet you both at the Hoppy Pouch for that drink in an hour. Chat over a thing or two, but I'll leave any singing to others."
"Aye aye, Captain," she said in her best mock jovial voice, waving her right arm in what might pass as a salute if one was drunk and squinting. She was half out the door before she grunted, turned back, and retrieved the clipboard she had carried in earlier.
"Can't rest yet, Cap, something really is off with one of those damn containers. Our Logbook doesn't match the customs register they sent over. I've checked everything below deck and half of the stacks, so it's got to be one of the containers up by the bow." She turned to go clipboard in hand, but Macwolf put a paw on her shoulder.
"Go, leave that to me to finish up, you already run this ship as it is. Besides," he added with a wink, "I figure you and Mr. Gordon have already spent enough nights out in the Stacks for one trip."
"Huh? But Cap, we never…" but Macwolf had already taken the clipboard and cut her off.
"Think I didn't see you out there? At least now I won't have to tip toe around the deck. Now get out before I change my mind."
"I swear, we never..."
"Go! The Polina will still be waiting for you and I'll see you both in an hour."
Roxy gave up on the strange argument. "Alright Stan, we'll save you a seat. Just don't take too long," she said, smiling at Captain Macwolf as she headed for the door.
"Oh, I'll be quick. I know that a drink with me doesn't compare to the fine accommodations offered by the Karoo Oasis. I've heard they even offer an optional Jacuzzi!"
The glower she shot him caused him to break out in a howl of laughter that would make his ancestors proud. He was still grinning as he watched Roxy cross the gangplank towards the waiting Marcus. Without even breaking stride she hooked an arm up around his back and pulled him down into a kiss, the two of them spotlighted in the dark by a lamppost. Macwolf opened one of the deckhouse windows and let out a quick sharp whistle. Marcus froze, looking back towards the ship's wheelhouse and the figure of Captain Macwolf. Roxy just made a rude gesture and with a gentle tug pulled Marcus down the pier, both walking arm in arm. She took a quick look back and saw Stan still standing in the window waving at them, the sound of his laughter echoing over the quiet dock. It was a sight she would always remember, and eventually even cherish.
Macwolf watched until the two figures has disappeared into the darkness. He may have lived up to the cliché of the lonely ship captain, but it was nice to think that it might not be an actual job requirement. No time like the present, he thought, the last hint of doubt drained away. It was time to finish what he had intended and the stars seemed to have lined up.
….'Every time you round Horn Cape'
Macwolf grunted as he put down the old fountain pen Good enough for now and folded up the paper and stuffed it into the large white folder along with its other contents. It had taken him longer to finish than he had expected and he would have to hurry up to make it to the Hoppy Pouch. The envelope sealed and placed in the top draw of his desk, he grabbed the clipboard with the ships manifest and took one last look around the wheelhouse. He shouldered a grey duffel bag, flicked off the lights, and descended the stairwell onto the deck.
The ship was dark except for a few inset lamps along the railing, casting the stacks into long sharp shadows. Stan needed no other lights to aid his still keen night vision. Overhead only a few of the brightest stars could be seen shining out over the city. He had practically grown up onboard Polina, leaping from one shipping container to another while his father watched from the bridge. Now his knees gave a slight sore twinge just thinking about those times.
Entering the canyon between the towering stacks he began to check the manifest against the labels attached to each container. He prided himself on running a tight ship but had lost count of the times a dockworker or clerk with a fat paw pad had attached the wrong label. Still, Stan enjoyed these rare times when he truly had the old ship to himself without the normal hustle and slightly controlled chaos that was the open sea.
"It's a damn tough life full of toil and strife us sailors undergo
And we don't give a damn when the gale is done how hard the winds did blow"
He sang the old tune low and slow just as he remembered his father and grandfather singing. Roxy would roll her eyes, but someone had to sing the old sea songs
"Cause we're homeward bound from the fishing grounds
With a good ship, taut and free.
And we won't give a damn when we drink our rum with the girls of old meoweee"
He moved further into the stacks towards the bow. Roxy did say it must be one of the ones here somewhere. He was down to the last half dozen containers.
"Rolling down to old meoweee me boys,
Rolling down to old meoweee
We're homeward bound from our fishing grounds
Rolling down to old meoweee"
The last verse echoed off the containers in the darkness like a ghostly chorus. Macwolf looked up towards the few stars faintly visible that twinkled just a little brighter in silent appreciation. At least they appreciate my music.
Finally, his eyes landed on the light blue metal container at the end of the row. On the side of every container a registry number was attached, yet flipping through the manifest Macwolf scowled, unable to find a match. His scowled deepened when he reached the last page. According to the form this container was offloaded in Antlerwerp nearly three weeks ago, but apparently, the container hadn't gotten the memo.
He reached the container and let out a small growl when he saw the reason. It was subtle, the paint was nearly a perfect match to the container's original blue, but looking closely Macwolf could still faintly make out the original registry number bleeding through from where it had been painted over. Macwolf gave a small shudder. He had been in this business long enough and had seen and even known his share of smugglers. Be it drugs, weapons, or worse, someone had gone to some lengths to hide whatever was inside.
Rounding the container, he was meet by another surprise. The door was slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of its dark interior. Macwolf peered towards the crack of the door. He would have to call into the dock's customs offices and maybe even the ZPD. He hated to think of the paperwork and interview that would follow. Still, most of it could wait till tomorrow and the Hoppy Pouch still awaited him tonight.
He had already turned and started to leave when his large ears perked at the sound of a soft rustling coming from the depths of the container. Just forget it and go, don't look, you dumb wolf. But he was already half way back to the container. No one was going to try and pull something over him on his ship and get away from it. Quieting his small voice of caution, he opened the door and stepped inside
A sudden bright beam of light blinded him. He held up his hands to block the light and shield his eyes while taking a step backwards nearly tripping over the container's threshold.
"Oh! Sorry, umm, I know I'm not supposed to be here," a small voice called from the darkness. The light lowered and Macwolf blinked, trying to regain his vision. A pair of blue eyes stared back at him from the darkness. His heart pounding in surprise and still half blinded, Macwolf could just make out the shape of a young, pitch black leopard sitting on a small cot holding a flashlight. Ship is full of damn cats these days. He quickly took in the scene. Besides the cot were an assortment of crumpled bags and wrappers along with a large green footlocker at the top of the cot.
The girl couldn't have been much past her teenage years and from the way her hands were shaking was clearly terrified.
"Who are you, girl? Not going to hurt you, you're safe," he said, trying to sound reassuring. Stan had seen many things on the sea, but this would make his first honest to gods stowaway. He's only seen a few black leopards, come to think of it.
"Saraz, sir, please just let me go, I didn't want to cause any trouble," her voice nearly breaking in fear.
His own fear subsided and his curiosity took over. "Calm down, Saraz, no one is getting hurt. What the hell you doing, living in here?"
Saraz gave a small shrug of her shoulder. "Trying to get away. Figure Zootopia's supposed to be the place, right? So how about you just let me go, please? I promise I didn't steal nothing and you don't have to tell anyone, right?"
Macwolf stared at the blue eyes in the sea of blackness. "Sorry girl, but I'm sure your parents are worried sick about you. Come with me, we'll get you some decent food and I'll make some calls."
"No!" she shouted with a sudden ferocity. "I've got some money here," she said rustling in one of the bags. "How about I give you some of that and we just call it even, no need to involve anyone else." She pulled out a surprisingly thick stack of bills. What's a young stowaway doing with a wad of cash like that, he wondered.
"You know, you're not the first to try and bribe me and it didn't work for any of them. Come on, I'll make sure you're in no trouble from my end at least," he said, walking back to the entrance on the container before turning back and motioning for Saraz to follow.
Several things happened all at once. His night vision recovering from the flashlights beam caught sight of the second cot against the far end of the container. His mind flashed back – It was two dark figures that I saw out in the stacks at night – at the same time his ears registered the muted thud of paw pads landing behind him.
He started to turn when he saw a flash in the in the corner of his eyes and felt a thin itching sensation spread below his muzzle. He spun around, and found himself nearly snout to nose with a pair of deep red eyes set into the gold and black patchwork of a leopard's face.
"What the freaki.. di.." but the rest of the sentence came out as a wheezing sputter. The itch around his neck turned into a burning. The leopard in front of him just gave a small shrug while wiping off her extended claws.
"Sorry, Captain, you really should have just taken the money." Saraz's voice came from behind, now holding none of the fear or timidity of moments before.
Stan Macwolf pulled his paw away from his neck. It was wet and dark crimson in the shadowy light. He tried to take a step but stumbled. He grabbed onto the mysterious leopard and tried to pull himself upright, slow realization entering his shocked mind. The red-eyed leopard just pushed his paw aside. With a grunt Macwolf threw himself at her, his own claws briefly digging into her shoulder. Letting out a pained hiss she shoved him away and Macwolf fell back and slid on the deck.
He tried to stand but all the energy was draining from his body and a warm stillness moving up from his legs. Guess I'm going to miss that drink after all, he thought as he watched the two figures moving out from the cargo container. Looking skyward it seemed like he could see more stars than normal over the city. I owe Roxy an apology, guess Marcus will… but the rest of his thoughts were interrupted as the stars overhead seemed to glow brighter and brighter…
The sisters looked down at the body. "So much for quietly sneaking into the city," Ruby commented while wrapping a bandage onto her shoulder.
"Not my fault the old mutt couldn't leave it alone. His damn songs are going to be stuck in my head for weeks," Saraz said, starting to gather up their scattered bags and belongs out of the container.
"I did like the one with the smell of flowers," Ruby tried to hum the tune.
Saraz chuckled. "Didn't the captain die in that one also?" she said with a grin as she reached town towards the body and removed the large gold emblem pinned to his jacket.
"What are you doing?" Ruby asked suddenly stern, her tail curled and swishing.
"Well, it's not like he needs it," Saraz stammered, turning the emblazoned golden ship over in her paw. "It's pretty, and an antique like this could get a decent price if we..."
Speaking quietly but with force. "Put it back. Our parents didn't raise thieves and I'll be damned if I've not taught you better," Ruby said glaring at her younger sister.
"Fine, fine," Saraz said with a whine before tucking the pin into the captains breast pocket. "So, what are we going to do with…?" she said gesturing down.
Ruby thought for a few moments while looking around. "Ok, be careful, get all the samples into the backpack," she said gesturing towards the footlocker.
Ten minutes later the large green footlocker splashed off the back of the Polina and disappeared under the gentle harbor waves. While the stars watching overhead, two figures slipped off the ship into the darkness of the docks. The Polina sat silently in the water, waiting.