Unwinding

"We lead a charmed life," Boxer observed looking around the APL cell's new hideout, located in a sewer. He and Napoleon were sitting at a desk in an old control room, a map of Zootopia laid out in front of them, while outside numerous APL militants milled around getting the new base organized.

"Yeah, still not the worst place we've held up in," Napoleon observed, "The main thang is that we need to retaliate. It's gotta be loud, and ugly, and a lotta chompers need to die."

"Granted," Boxer agreed, "But I'm not sure the little sheep's gonna like this."

"She'll get over it," Napoleon muttered, "We've been listenin' to her and playing it slow for too long, and now look what's happened. We're gonna hit back and keep on hittin'!"

Boxer considered his leader's words, finally, looking up at Napoleon and asking, "Ya want to start an all out war, Boss?"

"Yes!" Napoleon took a breath to calm himself and continued, "The chompers hittin' us like that made me realize; we can't bet 'em by all this cloak and dagger, workin' in the shadows crap. We need something loud and dramatic to light a fire under that lamb's ass and riled up prey all over the country."

"Sounds good," Boxer admitted, "What do ya have in mind?"

"The chompers hit us hard and brazenly. Hell, they drove a damn tank into our building! We gotta reply in kind," the grey, one eyed warthog explained, "We're gonna hit the Intensive Care Bears."

"You sure, Boss?" Boxer asked with concern, "Those bears are armored like tanks, hell some of 'em use weapons that are supposed to be mounted on vehicles."

"Oh, we'll have to take time to prep and plan for this, make no mistake." Napoleon agreed, "But they're reckless, makes 'em easy to lead into a trap."

"And then we kick in the teeth of one of the Militia's toughest units," Boxer said, catching on.

"Exactly, and after that, we never let up," Napoleon said with a smile. From there, the two warthogs began planning what could be their bloodiest attack. Through it all, the grey warthog hadn't forgotten a promise he'd made to a curtain fox officer.

#*#*#

Lily Wilde, still hanging onto her brother Nick, was vaguely aware of being half carried back into her brother's barracks apartment, the rest of her family and some other mammal (a rabbit?) around her. "So, uh," the teen vixen heard Nick say as he gently pried her off, "How'd you get in here?"

"Justin got the guards at the gate to let us in," James explained, "Nick, what's been going on? Are you okay?"

"What's with the rabbit?" Lily asked.

"Dad, everyone, I'm fine," Nick insisted, ignoring his sister's question.

"Don't give us that, Nick!" Olivia scolded her son.

Nick hesitated, looking to his cousin. The pilot nodded, encouraging his relative to just come clean. Overall, Nick actually agreed, though there was one thing making him hesitant. "Okay, but I think Lily should wait in my bedroom."

"What?" the younger fox scoffed, "Screw that!"

"Lily," Olivia chided, noticing the look on her son's face, "I think you should do as your bother says."

"No!" Lily protested, "I'm not gonna be treated like a kit! Nick's my brother and I have I right to know what happened to him!"

15 minutes later.

Lily sulkily sat on her brother's bed with front legs folded, a slightly uncomfortable Judy sitting beside her. The rabbit rebel was just beginning to look curiously at the pictures hung on Nick's walls when the vixen turned toward her. "You know what Nick's been doing."

Judy turned to the teenage fox, hesitant, "Excuse me?"

"I saw you on the news with him, getting attack by that panther," Lily explained, "And now you're here, so you must of gone through the whole ordeal with Nick. Tell me what happened."

"...I don't know, honey," Judy said, her ears folding back uncomfortably, "I don't think it's my plac-"

"Tell me or I'll eat you!" Lily snapped, jumping to her feet paws.

"Wait, do you guys really eat prey?" Judy asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Keep stalling and you'll find out."

#*#*#

"Ramming Speed," Tod muttered as he and Copper entered The Iron Claw Tavern, a popular hangout for militiamammals. Following their first combat action, the fox medic had informed his friend on just how their mechanized comrades had managed to bring the fighting to an end. "I can't believe they did that...I can't believe it worked!"

"Well, it was pretty creative, albeit reckless," Copper said with a shrug as he and Tod took their seats at the bar, "I doubt I'd of thought to drive a tank right into a building."

"And there's probably a good reason for that," Tod countered as the Iron Claw's owner, a burly aging bear in a faded Revolution Era Militia overcoat.

"You boys were in the battle this morning, in the old office building?" the gavel voiced tavern owner asked, leaning on his bar.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Copper asked cocking his head curiously.

"I heard about you and your buddies on the radio." the old bear explained, gesturing to a radio scanner sitting beside various bottles of spirits. Copper briefly wondered how, or if, the barmammal had gotten the proper permits before the old veteran continued, "Drinks are on the house for the night, you could use it after getting your cherries popped."

"What, no, our friends were in a lot more danger then either of us." Tod objected, "I, mean I was inside a tank the entire time."

"And I was more then a block away," Copper added.

"Even so, for tonight you two drink free." the veteran bear stated, his tone leaving no room for argument, "Now, what'll it be?"

The fox and hound looked at one another for a few silent moments before both looked back to the tavern keeper. Copper sat up and asked, "What whiskeys do you have?"

#*#*#

"By Saint Robin," Olivia muttered, leaning against her husband. Nick had just finished explaining his ordeal to his parents and cousin. All of it; Bagheera's savage outburst, teaming up with Judy, being captured by the APL, Napoleon's threats, and finally being rescued by Toulouse's tank and his own team. Olivia had had misgivings about her son joining the Militia. She'd known there would be risks, of course, but her only son going through more near death experiences then some war veterans in his first week as a militiamammal, most of it within twenty four hours, was hard to take.

Shifting in his seat, ears folded back, the sight of his parents looking so distressed making him feel oddly like like a kit who'd stayed out past curfew. He supposed it was because he intended to continue the very assignment that that put him in so much danger. He had noticed his cousin giving him a look of approval throughout the story. Of course that daredevil thinks it cool, Nick thought, Still, at least I've got one bit of good news for the folks. "I've got two days of leave, starting tomorrow. Was hoping I could use it to spend time with you guys."

"Two days is all they gave you after all that?" James asked incredulously, "Nice of them."

Well, that's all I'd let them give me. Nick thought guiltily. In the back of his mind, the reynard lieutenant briefly wondered how his sister and Judy were getting along in the next room.

#*#*#

Finnick sat atop the pile of books on the driver's seat of his van, parked just outside his apartment. The Militia sergeant had a six pack of Duff Beer at his side and one of his Old Guard* albums, Homecoming, playing on the radio.

"Is a killer all I am to you? Is that all you see?" the speakers blared, "So damn proud of me."

The sergeant took an affectionate look around the inside of his old and very worn van. "Finnick, get rid of this junker, c'mon Fin you can afford something better," the desert fox muttered, casting a buzzed look at the picture of himself as a kit with his father, "They don't get it."

18 Years Earlier

A fennec kit made his way into a dank alley to a battered old van. The tiny desert fox lightly threw a can at the back door and called out in a squeaky, high pitched voice, "Dad! I'm back!"

There was a sound of movement from inside and the door opened to reveal an older fennec, who smiled down at the youngster and helped him up into the worn vehicle. The adult desert fox, called Morgan, shut the door behind his son and asked, "How'd you do?"

"Big eyes worked like a charm," the kit boasted, pulling a wad of small bills. Finnick should have been collared the year before, but due to his small size and high pitched voice, he'd managed to pass for a younger mammal. It had also allowed him to swindle a fair amount of money out of sympathetic mammals. Finnick's pride in his hustling was sidetracked when he noticed dried blood matted into the fur near his father's left ear, "What's that?"

"Eh, nothing, just...had a run in with the Bronze**." Morgan explained, before patting a duffel bag of black market goods. "I had a good day shopping, even got ya something special."

The older fennec rose and opened a cooler the two used as a fridge, after a moment of rifling around, he produced a strawberry popsicle, to Finnick's delight.

Hours later, the slightly sticky kit laid on the mattress the two shared, Morgan sitting next to him with a Duff in his paws. Finnick would never know if his father knew he was awake or not, but nonetheless the future Militia Volunteer commander then began to speak. "I used to love this city, but now I hate it. I hate the Bronze, I hate that hog whore that runs things, and I hate these fucking collars." Finnick heard something crash into the one of the van's walls, presumably the disabled Tame Collar Morgan wore to fool the police, then he felt a gentle paw patting his shoulder, "One way or another you'll never have to wear one of those damn things, Finnick, I promise."

Present

"Aw, shit," Finnick muttered, in his now deep baritone, when he noticed tears running down his cheeks. He frustratedly wiped them away and looked to the picture taped to his radio console. Morgan's funeral had only been twelve days before and it seemed the small sergeant's grief was still fresher than he'd thought.

"Love ya, Dad. Miss ya..." Finnick said, raising his drink in toast, "...miss ya everyday."

*A rap group made up of Reptile War veterans, famous for both praising and criticizing the Militia and predator dominated society.

**Before the Predator Revolution, police officers were often referred to as 'Bronze,' due to their bronze badges.

#*#*#

"And then we loaded into the tank and drove out of the building," Judy explained, having finished an only slightly abridged version of her and Nick's ordeal.

"Wow," Lily breathed, sitting on Nick's bed beside her. "Still, things worked out well...just wish I didn't have to hear it from someone else."

"That you threatened to eat," Judy muttered under her breath.

"That's the part that bugs me," Lily continued, "I'm, yeah it's a little creepy my brother was held hostage by rebels, but I can take it. Not knowing where he was or what happened was ten times worse!"

Judy regarded the sulky teen for a moment, then laid a reassuring paw on her hind leg, "Your family was probably just trying to protect you, even if they were a bit misguided."

Lily seemed to consider Judy's words for a moment, then turned to the smaller mammal, somewhat skeptically. "Yeah, maybe."

A sightly awkward silence fell over the two mammals at that point. Wanting to lighten the mood, Judy glanced around the room, noticing pictures of a younger Nick on the walls. She focused in on one in particular, featuring Nick as a kit between the two older foxes she'd seen in the other room, presumably his parents.

"Your brother was really cute when he was younger." the rabbit observed, raising an eyebrow when she noticed a hole in the father's left ear.

"Oh, yeah," Lily agreed, smiling mischievously, "I've got some really good pics of him on my phone."

"That I gotta see," Judy said as Lily pulled her phone from her pocket, "Real quick though, What's with the hole in your dad's ear."

"Oh, he was in prison when the Militia took over." Lily explained as she unlocked her phone, "When he was processed they put a tag with a number on his ear...he wasn't allowed to use his name anymore after that, just the number."

"He told you all that?" a slightly shocked Judy asked

"No, no, Dad hates talking about it, I learned about stuff like that in school." Lily explained as she brought up and opened a file of photos and videos title 'Nick's Greatest Fails'. Judy wondered what else Lily, and other young predators, had been taught since the Revolution, but filed that away for later as Lily started the video of Nick's driver's test.