Writing this, I am sitting at Vikane. Vikane is an area, located on the west side of the Oslo fjord in Norway, about eighty or so kilometers from Oslo itself. Tomorrow, I will go to Oslo to get situated in my new room. This is the first chapter I haven't written sitting at my desk in Nibe. It is written in a different country, and it's written on an old laptop which the secretary at my dad's office has so very generously let me have. It is an antiquated machine and I love it already. Sixtyfour megabytes of RAM, ten gigabyte harddrive...and it's a fantastic little tool. It takes a good 13 minutes to boot but it does boot, eventually. What it does, however, is that it allows me a work-related independence, which I couldn't hope to have anywhere else. The only problem is that, as mentioned, it's very old and it's got only 64 MB of Ram...yet the people who had it before me installed Windows Millenium on it, which naturally results in the long boot-time. 

Tomorrow, I go to Oslo, the capital of Norway. I will then get my new room, and I have learned today that in all likelihood, I will share a kitchen with seven other mostly non-Norwegian students, and a bathroom with one other student. I am already looking forward to these next months like...like a child looks forward to Christmas. My stomach is doing flip-flops and I can't stop smiling. Whether from an excess of red wine at dinner, or from this great life-adventure finally being underway...I don't know. Nor do I really care. I am happy. Happy...and in the mood to write. I wish you could all feel a little of the hope and elation I am experiencing on this evening of Thursday the 10th of August, 2006.  

Read on...and I hope you will enjoy. 

"What the Hell were you thinking, Jean Lebrun?" 

The question was entirely rhetorical, since the vixen was the only fur in the room. She was sitting in the teacher's room at University, and it was still early morning. Early morning...of a day she did not look forward to. In fact, if she could have things as she saw fit...she'd simply vanish into thin air. The idea of facing the world, and her students that day was not exactly a welcome one.  

Why?  

Because she had appeared in the newspapers the day before.  

As strong as her desire for anonymity and privacy was, it had been necessary. But in taking such a radical step, she had declared open war on the protesters who wanted her fired. A war that she had to fight to its bitter end. She had to stand her ground...she had to face them down and she had to take whatever bloodied noses would come of it. At least she didn't think the opposition stood any chance of winning. But they could cause her a lot of harm in the process.  

Was she strong enough to face this kind of battle, without crumbling? Was she really that strong, by now? The last two years had seen her go from strength to strength, but it was one thing to be strong enough to face one's friends without crumbling...or even relatively small crowds under controlled circumstances such as in a lecture hall where she was in charge. It was an entirely different thing to have to deal with the weight of public opinion of the entire city of Columbus, Ohio. Suddenly, everyone would be reading about her and her situation and the damnable arguments and fights about her qualifications and her past.

She really felt like sticking her head out the window and screaming out her annoyance at the world.  

There was nothing for it. She had to get out there and face the music. For a few quiet, hopeful moments she had managed to convince herself that there would probably be no reaction at all. That the newspaper articles would surely have gone unnoticed by the entire University. 

Those were indeed hopeful moments. They were also rather foolish, she had to admit.

Sighing, she got up and picked up her briefcase. Running a paw over her hair, she straightened her back and craned her neck a little. She'd at least walk out there, showing everyone that she was in control. That she wouldn't crawl along the corridors and pretend she wasn't there. Not again. Never again. She put her paw on the doorknob and took a deep breath, before turning it. 

The murmuring began immediately. Whispers and hushed comments followed Jean all the way down the hallway. She felt nauseous. She could hear what some of them said, and at least quite a few comments were positive. But there were bad ones too. Really negative ones. She tried to ignore them as she turned the second-to-last corner before the lecture hall came up ahead.  

Her stomach sank.  

Her mouth went dry immediately, and she only managed to stay steady on her feet by sheer force of will. In front of the doors to the lecture hall, a group of twenty, maybe twenty five furs had assembled. They did not look friendly. Hannah Vulpes was amongst them, Jean noted. So were the two males she had told to make up their minds about her teaching a few days earlier. 

One of them spotted her. They locked arms and formed a chain across the door to the lecture hall. 

Jean shook her head. The fear and nervousness vanished and was replaced by a tremendous weariness. What were they hoping to accomplish? This wasn't just a matter of showing disapproval. Blocking her access to the lecture hall meant taking this to a level where the protesters couldn't hope to win. But they could make her day incredibly unpleasant. Part of her wanted to laugh at the stupidity of the furs in front of her, the other one wanted to groan. At least, she told herself, it was better than breaking down in tears. Straightening her back again, she walked towards the lecture hall. The chain of furs tightened up a little, to bar her entry.

"I thought I was about to enter a lecture-hall," she said, matter-of-factly and looked at Hannah Vulpes. "Instead it seems I've stumbled onto a demonstration in front of an abortion clinic. Sorry ladies and gentlefurs, you have the wrong address. Now, if you'd kindly move aside and let me get in, I'll get on with my teaching and I'm sure you all have things to do as well." 

Hannah shook her head. "We're not letting you in. The students don't want you teaching anymore, Mr. LeBrun." 

Despite the feeling of having been suckerpunched, Jean managed to let it pass without showing her discomfort. Instead, she looked around as if searching for someone. "I believe you'll find Mr. LeBrun at work at 'La Boulangerie'...it's a bakery. I can give you the address if you need french loafs," she tried, smiling crookedly. 

"You think you're so clever, don't you? Well you're not. We have a right to demand some standards from our teachers and you don't qualify!" Hannah snapped back. 

Jean shook her head, slowly, in disbelief. "I used to think university students had to be intelligent," she said, wearily. "As a matter of fact, I do qualify. The only criterion is whether I possess the necessary skills to teach the courses I am hired to teach, and as it happens...I do. Please Hannah...I'm asking you one final time, politely, to move aside and stop this nonsense. I can't force you to follow classes with me, and as things have developed, I'm sure we're all in agreement it's better if you don't come to my classes, but I can certainly insist that I be allowed to teach the majority of the students who are enrolled in my classes. Those who still want to learn."

Hannah looked about to come up with some acidic answer, but one of the males behind her growled low in his throat instead.  

"We don't want freaks teaching us. We don't want you infecting us, or any other innocent students with your filth. Why don't you just leave us alone? We don't want perverts around here!" 

Jean raised an eyebrow. "Would you call a fur with a club foot a pervert? Or a fur with a hunched back. Or one of those really unfortunate ones who get born without opposable thumbs?" she asked, flatly. "Furs who speak badly of those with disabilities and handicaps are not really worth my time, but since you're still blocking the way into the lecture hall, it seems I have no choice." 

The male grimaced, then made a disgusting sound in the back of his throat, and spat a large globe of mucus in Jean's face. "You're not disabled. You're sick! Piss off. We don't want you here!"  

For a moment, Jean's legs swayed. Her paw went up to her cheek. She wiped the disgusting slime off her face and fought back the tears that tried very hard to start rolling. 

"Do you really think that you'll be allowed to continue studying here after that?" she asked. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Do you really, honestly believe this university will allow you to continue as a student after you deliberately spat in the face of a lecturer?" 

Hannah shrugged. "No one will back you up. We've contacted the University Board. Told them all about your perversion and how you behave during lectures." 

"How I what?" Jean asked, looking at Hannah. "I teach. That's all."

"Oh yeah? Don't you think every male in your classes already noticed how you undress us with your eyes? You are so disgusting it sickens the mind..." another male chimed in.

Jean was about to answer. Her head was spinning and it was nearly impossible for her to think straight. She rubbed her face with one paw, taking another deep breath. 

"You don't get it do you?" she asked, getting angry. "Why would I do something like that? I'm trying to teach critical thinking. Nothing else. Do you think of other lecturers in the same way??"  

"Of course not. They're not faggots!" the spitting male hissed. "God hates fags. You'll burn in..." 

He never got to finish.  

"I would weigh my words very carefully before completing that sentence!" an angry voice said from somewhere behind Jean. 

The vixen turned her head and to her relief, she saw Father Rufus approach. The wolf looked livid. 

"This is none of your business, Father!" Hannah exclaimed. A few of the furs behind her started looking uncertain. 

Father Rufus pulled the bible-pages that Jean had given him, out from his jacket and brandished them in the face of the female wolf. "When someone desecrates a Bible, I consider it a priority to make it my business!!"

To Jean's barely disguised delight, one of the protesters suddenly looked like he'd rather be somewhere else entirely. She didn't listen in on the argument between Hannah and Father Rufus for a few moments, instead concentrating on the reactions of the other protesters. Most of them didn't look like they liked this new turn of events. 

"That's irrelevant, Father," Hannah said, sharply, snapping Jean out of her thoughts. "We contacted the University Board. This ends today!" 

Father Rufus narrowed his eyes. "Thou shalt not lie," he replied. "I should probably inform you that I represent the Theological institute on that very board you're referring to, and I haven't been told of this. And considering that Mrs. Belge isn't here yet, I think it's safe to assume that the Historical and Archaeological institute remains uninformed as well!" 

Jean felt like punching the air. The look on Hannah's face changed from self confident to confused and very worried. She opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to come up with an answer, but without any luck. 

"I erh...we...that is, we were going..." she tried, but Father Rufus interrupted her. 

"Yes, I think you were going!!" he growled. "But I want the name of everyone here. And don't even think of giving me someone else's name. You won't get away with it. I have the faces of every last student here committed to memory, and I can promise you, I will see to it that each and every one of you will face the repercussions of this. If you are allowed to continue studying at this university, you should go down on your knees and thank God himself for your good fortune."

Jean was actually smiling by that time. A few of the protesters started speaking up about how that was an unfair statement. 

"Are you alright, Miss LeBrun?" Father Rufus asked, his voice concerned. 

"Except for the gob of mucus that one spat in my face, I'm fine. Nothing harmed but my pride," Jean answered and shrugged. 

Father Rufus turned around, very slowly and looked at the fur Jean had pointed out. "I think you should start looking for something else to do with your time. You won't be a student by the end of today, I can promise you that!" he said, in a low, tightly controlled tone of voice.

The male blinked. He looked like he'd been slapped. Jean heard someone come around the corner. She was about to turn her head to see who was arriving when the spitting male growled at her. 

"I don't care what the priest says. You're nothing but a disgusting faggot with a fetish and you'll burn in Hell where you belong, you fucking pervert!" 

Jean sighed and turned her face back towards him and shook her head. "I don't think you really get it, do you? To be a gay male, I have to be male first. I don't qualify anymore," she said, shrugging indifferently. "As for whether I'll burn in Hell or not...I assure you, I am living a very different kind of Hell, every day of my life. I have to face intolerant, uneducated furs like yourself, and I have to defend my right to live my life in peace in ways you can't even begin to imagine. I have to face prejudice, religious bigotry and outright stupidity based on two thousand year old words, every damned day of my life. Me, burn in Hell? Hell, you say? What I find really sad is that you are so stupid that you don't even realize that there are much, much worse things than your Hell. So stupid...and yet you somehow managed to get enrolled at a university. It really defies reason."

Then she turned her head again to see who was arriving. She started to smile, seeing Mrs. Belge bearing down on the protesters with a look of absolute rage displayed on her feature.  

Just as she was about to say something to her boss, however, the vixen heard a growl from the male she had just addressed. Snapping her head back towards him, she managed to see the fist a split second before it hit her squarely on the jaw. 

She staggered. She could taste blood. 

Then the lights went out. 

### 

Gabrielle wrapped her robe tighter around herself and re-tied the belt, before knocking on Zig Zag's office door. She looked sidelong at Tamara, also dressed in nothing but a robe. She waited a moment, before hearing her boss's voice telling her to enter. She pushed open the door after checking that the robe at least kept her reasonably modest. 

"Hey Boss...welcome back," Tamara said with a smile as they entered. 

Zig Zag leaned back in her seat. Gabrielle noticed the skunk looked relaxed. More so than she had been for a very long time. Probably since just after the filming down in Virginia, when 'Amat Victoria Curam' had been completed.  

"Thank you, Tamara. What can I help you two with?" Zig Zag asked. 

Gabrielle shrugged. "Well, you could get us a camera-fur...?" 

Zig Zag looked like one big question-mark. "Erhh...what do you mean?" 

"Esteban hasn't come to work and Joey called in sick. We're not really sure what to do," Gabrielle explained. "I already tried calling Esteban but his cell-phone isn't turned on." 

Zig Zag blinked. "Aha. I'm sure he's on his way or something. Stuck in traffic maybe..." 

"Maybe. Anyway, there's something else we need to ask you as well," Tamara said and grinned widely, looking at the filly next to her. 

Zig Zag nodded. "Go ahead..." 

Gabrielle took out the letter she had received from Leo and put it on the table in front of Zig Zag. "Well, I remember you once said you used to serve the armed forces in...alternative ways, Boss. I'm sure you remember Leo...he's in Afghanistan right now, and he sent me that letter. I circled the relevant part." 

Zig Zag took the letter and started reading. A crooked smile started forming on her face as she slowly nodded to herself. She flicked over to the second page of the letter and read on, the smile growing wider and wider.  

"I've enjoyed my vacation but I should have expected you'd have something in store when I got back, Gabby..." she chuckled at last and pushed the letter back across the table. 

Gabrielle picked it up and chuckled. "I figured we can be helpful with this if we want to be. It still requires a camera-fur though. Maybe you could even move in front of the lens to introduce us or something? I'm sure they'd appreciate that out there..." 

Zig Zag thought about that for a long, quiet moment. She had not set foot in front of a camera-lens since she finished her active career. In fact, it was one of the things that helped James deal with her line of work. But what Gabrielle was asking for was nothing more than a video-greeting for soldiers fighting in a far-away country. 

She wasn't quite sure of it. She didn't have a problem with it, but she didn't want to upset James. 

"Well...I'll let you know what we'll do when I get a hold of Esteban or Joey..." she said, smiling. 

Tamara looked at Gabby and grinned. "This should be fun," she chuckled. "Let's go tell the others." 

The bronco smiled at Zig Zag and winked. "Thanks Boss." 

The two femmes left the room and Zig Zag picked up the phone to call James. 

### 

It was late afternoon when Leo got the word that Captain Cervus finally had time to see him. He left Sergeant Pardinus in charge at the battery, and removed his gloves, sticking them in his belt. It had been a busy day and most of his troops were sweating and weary after no less than nine separate calls for barrages. Four of them to support the same patrol. From what Leo had learned, the barrages had been accurate and had allowed the patrol to escape a nasty situation with just two lightly wounded soldiers after inflicting at least a couple of fatalities on the enemy. 

He had no trouble leaving his highest ranking non-com in charge for a while. First Platoon would cover for his own Third Platoon until he came back. Except if things got really unimaginably ugly, Third Platoon would have some time off until he came back from delivering his report.

Leo rubbed his face and rolled his shoulders. He had to admit he was a little exhausted and the break in the action was not unwelcome. As he approached the office building, he saw Lieutenant Aureus leave. The jackal walked towards him and Leo nodded, respectfully.  

"Stop right there!" Lieutenant Aureus snapped and Leo immediately halted, somewhat surprised. 

"Yes Lieutenant?" he asked, turning to face the jackal.  

"Is that how you salute a superior officer, Lieutenant Leon?" Lieutenant Aureus asked, rather haughtily. 

Leo blinked and shook his head. "No sir. But Captain Cervus made it cl..." he began, but was interrupted before he could complete his sentence. 

"I don't want excuses. I want to see proper discipline from you and your troops, Lieutenant Leon. I've got my eye on you and the rest of Third Platoon. You apparently think you're some kind of hot shit, but let me tell you right here and now...like all shit, you stink! I don't know who's ass you had to kiss to become an officer but in my opinion, you're not qualified, and if you can't even salute a superior officer, you're a poor excuse for a soldier in the first place. Now, let's try this again, properly this time."

For a moment, Leo thought about coming up with some acidic remark. Instead, he reminded himself that the reason there was a no-salute policy around base was because it would help enemy snipers identify officers and allow them to pick off the command structure.  

"Yes SIR!" he said, sharply, and snapped off a textbook salute. 

Lieutenant Aureus seemed to look for something to criticize about it but, failing to do so, he simply returned it lackadaisically and continued. Leo waited until the Jackal had passed far enough away, then dropped the salute. For all he knew, half the base had seen that little display. He'd probably have to do some rumor-control later. Instead, he adjusted his helmet, which made the top of his head feel like it was boiling, and headed up to the office building. Entering, he knocked on the door to Captain Cervus' office. 

"Enter Lieutenant Leon," the voice of the elk said from the other side. 

Leo pushed the door open and entered. Now that he was inside, he would normally have had to salute the captain, but the standing order was not to do so during daylight hours, inside or out. Instead, he removed his helmet and stood at attention. 

"At ease, Lieutenant. Before we begin the debriefing, can you explain to me what that little show outside just now was all about?" the captain said, seated behind his desk. 

"Sir?" 

"What kind of bullshit answer to my question is 'Sir'?" 

Leo couldn't help a slight, if crooked, smile. That was Captain Cervus' way. Direct, blunt...even unpleasantly so...and no-nonsense. One of the advantages, of course, was that any attempt to smooth-talk the captain was doomed to failure. Leo preferred it that way. Other officers no doubt found it unpleasant, but after Lieutenant Aureus had started his policy of 'Third Platoon Harassment', it let him simply tell the elk what was going on without feeling like a rat. If he tried to pull a fast one, Captain Cervus noticed it anyway. 

"Lieutenant Aureus wasn't satisfied with my first greeting, Sir. He insisted that I stop and present him with a proper salute. He made it clear that he would expect this from me in the future, as he...how did he put it...'had his eye on me', and that he found Third Platoon to be ill disciplined. Naturally, I will take his reprimand to heart and work harder to install a sense of discipline in my troops, Captain," Leo said, as smoothly as he dared. 

Captain Cervus glared at him. All he needed was a cigar-butt, changing from one side of his mouth and back again, and Leo would have been ready to swear the image of the officer in front of him had been taken out of an old Hollywood movie. 

"There you go again with your smart-ass replies, Lieutenant Leon," the captain grumbled. 

"I assure you, Sir, no smart asses were intended." 

"Don't give me that crap. Normally, I can't stand it when a soldier rats on another soldier, but in your case, your grievances are usually valid and besides, I always seem to have to pull them out of you anyway. It's not like you come running to me, whining. Makes me wonder how many...irregular measures...Lieutenant Aureus has subjected Third Platoon to without my knowledge, which you simply haven't reported to me." 

"None, as far as I know," Leo answered.  

Captain Cervus looked the lion up and down a few times before getting to his feet and walking around the table. "Lieutenant Leon, I will make this very simple and put it in plain words for you, so we're both on the level. I do not intend to lose a good officer, because of saluting inside a combat zone, am I clear?" 

"Yessir! Lieutenant Aureus..." Leo began. 

"Shaddap! I wasn't talking about Lieutenant Aureus. If someone pops him off, I'd send them a fucking Christmas card...or whatever it is Muslims celebrate." 

"Ramadan, Sir." 

"Ramawhatalamadama?" Captain Cervus grumbled. "Enough of this. My point is that if you salute Lieutenant Aureus again, a sniper might see fit to shoot you as well while you're presenting such an excellent target. If I see another salute from you, until we're out of this area, you will face disciplinary actions for disobeying a direct order. Clear?" 

"Yessir! Will you make Lieutenant Aureus aware of this or should I, Sir?" Leo asked, politely. 

"I will do so. I'll have a runner sent after him to bring him back here when we're done." 

"Very well, Sir. Oh, and by the way. The Ramadan is the Muslim month of fasting." 

Captain Cervus raised an eyebrow. "What? They don't eat for a whole damned month? No wonder everyone looks so emaciated. That's impossible. They'd starve to death." 

"They can eat after sundown, Sir. When you can't tell a black string from a white one, anymore." 

"I see. Before you start on your report, by the way, I should probably inform you that Lieutenant Richardson was flown to Kabul for medical treatment. I received word half an hour ago that he's been through surgery twice now, but that he's no longer in a critical condition, and that he's expected to make a full recovery. He may even be able to rejoin his troops, although the jury is still out on that one. I am also informed that the British medic has asked that you be given a commendation for assisting with the wounded in the AFC. Not to mention that Colonel Sands wants to see you when you leave my office." 

"Colonel Sands, Sir? Oh, the British CO. Yessir, I'll go see him as soon as we're done," Leo said, feeling very relieved to hear that Dawg Richardson would be alright.  

It hadn't looked good in the AFC. Blood everywhere, and there had been several wounded. The lightly wounded had gone in the other AFC, but Leo had tried to help the medic as best he could with Lieutenant Richardson and a wounded private. The same private that Leo had heard report his injury so calmly on the radio.  

"What about the private who was injured, Sir? Did you hear anything about him?" 

Captain Cervus looked grim for a moment but nodded. "I did. It seems his war is over, at least. That wound was a lot more serious than they had anticipated. He's going back to England to recover once it's safe to transport him. I believe the Medic wanted you to have that commendation for the assistance on that fur. As I understood it, Lieutenant, you're a big part of the reason why he's still alive. It was your first actual combat. I have to stress to you that sometimes, between two wounds, the less grievous looking one is actually the most dangerous." 

Leo nodded again. "Yessir, I will remember that." 

Captain Cervus sat back down and nodded. "Very well then, Lieutenant. Tell me exactly what happened. I read your report, but I want to hear the details from you. I want you to concentrate on the interaction with the locals and on what happened when you gave the order to lay down a creeping barrage inside the village perimeter."

Thinking back to what had happened; Leo took a few moments to get his thoughts together, before he started talking. 

### 

"Not...AGAIN???" 

Zig Zag stared at the telephone receiver in disbelief. She didn't want to believe what she had just been told. Shaking her head as if that'd make the news go away, she tried to think of something intelligent to say. Finally she put it back to her ear and listened. 

"Sorry Esteban, you'll have to repeat that..." she said. "I didn't hear the last half...my mind was going back in time. Yeah, I'm sure you can imagine what I was thinking of. Good God..." 

She listened a bit more, rubbing the bridge of her nose with two fingers on her free paw, trying to collect her thoughts. Finally she nodded at something Esteban said. 

"Take the rest of the day and tomorrow off and see to her. I'll get a hold of Joey," she started, and then stopped as Esteban said something on the other end of the line. 

Zig Zag frowned. It grew deeper and deeper. 

"Is she there? Alright...can she speak? Good, give her the telephone then and let me have a word with her," she said, somewhat tersely.  

Then she waited while Esteban passed the receiver to Jean. It took a few moments, then she listened as the vixen muttered that she was listening. 

"You'd better be, Jean LeBrun!" Zig Zag snapped. "What are you thinking, going back to work tomorrow? What're you trying to prove, girl??" 

She listened to the answer and rolled her eyes. "Jean, LISTEN to yourself. You can't even speak an understandable English. My guess is your face is swollen, and your jaw hurts with every word. Do you really think you can do a three or four hour lecture where you have to do most of the talking? And don't give me some nonsense about painkillers. You take the damned day off, you hear? Let Esteban pamper you a little. Wrap up in a blanket and watch a movie with him and feel loved and wanted. No. Stop right there. No arguments. Just do what I tell you, Jean. I'm your friend and I am telling you to do this for your own good. Now give me Esteban back and go put some ice on that face of yours, will you?" 

She waited another moment before Esteban got back on the phone. Then she spoke up again. "Okay...what are they going to do to the bastard who hit her, this time? Oh, expelled? I'd damned well say so. What ELSE will they do?" 

Sighing, she listened as Esteban explained what he knew. 

### 

The sign on the door said 'Colonel Sands'. Leo had never actually been in this building before. The British troops kept more or less to themselves, as did the Americans. Reminding himself to tell his troops to interact with their allies, the lion knocked on the door.  

"Enter," a voice said from the other side. 

Leo pushed the door open and entered, saluting. He had checked with an orderly outside, and apparently, the colonel still insisted on salutes being done while inside.  

"Lieutenant Leon reporting as instructed, Sir." 

Behind the desk, a wiry sea otter leaned back and scratched the base of his whiskers. He looked at Leo and nodded. "At ease then, Lieutenant," he said. His accent was different than Lieutenant Richardson's. More pronounced. 

Leo stood at ease and waited for the British officer to continue talking.  

"Do you know why I sent for you," Colonel Sands asked.  

"I only know that Captain Cervus told me that you wanted to talk to me about having helped the medic in the AFC," Leo answered. 

The otter got to his feet and took a couple of pieces of paper off the desk, holding them out for Leo to take. The lion accepted the report and quickly skimmed it. Despite himself, he felt himself blush. 

"Sir...this is very high praise," he said, meekly. 

Colonel Sands shrugged. "I don't question the truth or validity thereof, Lieutenant. As I understand it, your assumption of command and your subsequent order to drive through whatever buildings necessary, made it possible for my troops to escape instead of being encircled. Your use of a creeping artillery barrage allowed the patrol leave the building they occupied, while carrying their wounded, and move under cover of accurate artillery, to the waiting AFC. And finally, your skillful assistance of the medical fur doubtlessly saved Lieutenant Richardson's life, as well as the life of Private Mullen. And all that is not mentioning that if the patrol had been destroyed, both the AFC's would certainly have been cut off from retreat and fallen into enemy paws. Her Majesty's armed forces owes you a debt of gratitude, Lieutenant Leon." 

Again, Leo felt his cheeks burn. He didn't know what to say at first. Finally, he managed to regain control of his tongue. "I simply did my duty," he said. "I only did what I had to." 

Colonel Sands actually smiled. "You'd probably be surprised, Lieutenant, to know how many soldiers find it exceptionally difficult to do their duty under that kind of pressure. Or at the very least...to do it right."

He came around the table and extended a paw. "As far as I am concerned, Lieutenant, your gallantry and cool head saved the entire patrol from annihilation, and as a result, it has been my pleasure to request from London, that you be awarded the Distinguished Service Order. Naturally, the decision is not mine, but I wanted to at least inform you of the possibility...and to shake your paw." 

Leo shook the offered paw and smiled gratefully. "It is a great honor, Colonel." 

Colonel Sands chuckled. "I won't keep you, Lieutenant. I will inform you once the answer to my recommendation comes back from London." 

Letting go of the otter's paw, Leo saluted again, snapping his heels together, sharply. Then he turned on his heel and left the room, slightly dizzy. 

### 

"Gabrielle, could you please disentangle yourself from Rafe for a moment and come over here?" Zig Zag said, calmly. 

Gabrielle nodded and smiled, patting the wolf on the head and swishing her tail in his face, teasingly, as she got up.  

"Well, what do you expect? Joey finally got here. Said something about this being his day off or something. Anyway, we had to catch up on a lot of filming," the bronco said and smiled ingratiatingly at her employer. 

Zig Zag's face remained solemn and serious. "Jean's been attacked again, Gabby. She's been at the hospital, but they sent her home. It's not as serious as last time. Not at all...but she did lose consciousness." 

Gabrielle's face fell instantly. Her tail stopped swishing. She looked confused and worried. Even scared. "She's...she's okay?" she managed to stammer. 

The skunk nodded. "Yeah...she'll be fine. That's why Esteban isn't here today. I told him to stay home today and tomorrow. Jean insists on going back to work tomorrow already...damned that stubborn streak of hers. I need you to drop by her place when you're done here. Talk her out of going to work tomorrow. I could barely understand what she said on the phone. Seems one of those students protesting against her right to teach punched her lights out in anger. I don't know more than that, really. Can you talk to her though? She'll listen to you." 

Gabrielle swayed a little but finally nodded. "I will. I promise. I will. Oh...by the way...everyone is in on sending that video greeting." 

Smiling a bit, Zig Zag looked around the room. Everyone nodded to let her know Gabrielle was telling the truth.  

"Well, James said that as long as it's just a video-greeting, it's fine by him if I introduce you all," she said. 

"Cheers! That's good news, Boss," Gabrielle said and managed a smile. "Anyway...we're mostly done here. I should go and talk to Jean..." 

Zig Zag nodded and stepped aside to let Gabrielle leave with Yohni following close behind.