FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

(Length warning: this story is 15,000 words)

(Content note: this is loosely based upon [actual events](%5C).)

The Last Nuke

Dr. Jaime Tikali was convinced he wouldn't land. Strapped into the cargo bay inches from the wide open side of the massive chopper, he kept trying to tell himself that the craft couldn't be too unsafe, since humans designed them to transport their soldiers. However, given the fact they wiped themselves out, their intelligence was something his body could not convince himself to rely upon as the vehicle banked again sharply.

He could only stare outside, his stomach in a tight knot, at the large swath of ground whizzing by faster than the vibrations making his entire body go numb. He could barely see the base off in the distance, or at least its ruins. It would probably be the first place he would begin his search.

The humans called it Thulle air base, and it was one of the first buildings destroyed, being key to the security of the then-largest nation state, and allowing access to most of the world through the arctic circle. If they hadn't lost one missle, he growled to himself, he would still be in a comfortable bed, dreaming of how many atoms of supercooled helium could move through a solid wall. Instead, he had to find the last fission bomb in existence, just so it could be destroyed.

He went over the shell of a hangar, the charred remains of pavement whose only clue to existence was being perfectly level, and a clean hole revealing nothing more than a solid, caved in concrete ceiling. For a split second, as the chopper leveled out, he wished he could jump the 200 feet he was in the air and just start his search and save a long trek from the base. But as he glanced at his equipment across the bay from him, a suddon air current rocked the chopper to and fro, and made him want to stay in his seat.

"You'll be pleased to know, Sir that we're almost there," stated the hare's voice through the small radio in Jaime's ear protectors. His wry component indicated he was fully aware of the otter's distress.

Jaime couldn't believe it, since he didn't see anything else except ice, snow, and an occasional bump of a rock or blob of green which managed to survive the winter. But sure enough, within a minute or two, the chopper had gone from whizzing along to hovering.

"Time to jump!" suddenly commanded the hare, who was unbuckling his seatbelt.

Jaime was terrified; he was still at least 50 feet up. Were the noise not too loud for him to say anything, he would have protested.

"Listen!" the pilot growled into his headset, "there's only one way out of this thing. Now you're gonna jump, or I'm gonna push you!"

The hare lept out of the cockpit, and tried to unbuckle Jaime's safety harness. The otter fought him, but to no avail. In the end, the four points of the harness were detached from the hull.

The hare seemed to only grow angrier, his eyes lit up as he grabbed the otter and dragged him toward the edge. "Now, jump!" he shouted in Jaime's ear, and shoved him over to the side.

As the ground rushed toward Jaime, however, he heard the hare's voice again. "Doctor Tikali!" he exclaimed, "are you alright!?"

Inches from a snowy impact, he realized it was a dream, and woke up.

The white hare, who seemed not to be so sadistic as the one whom he had encountered moments ago, was looking down at him with great concern. The vibrations had stopped, and only a low, buzzing drone penetrated his ear protection.

"Huh?" mumbled the otter. "I'm fine," he repeated automatically, his rare condition having been so explained enough to become habit, "it's just narcolepsy. Where are we?"

"We've landed. Commander Maddox will see you now, if you're alright."

"I'm fine," panted Jaime, "thank you, sergant," he added, counting the insignia on his shoulder.

***

He walked across the empty airfield from the helicopter pad, over to the only building that was small enough not to hold aircraft. He assumed it was the command building, simply because it was the only one with actual, individual stories. The sun had almost set, but this far north, it was light this six months of the year. That's almost as far as it sinks, Jaime thought to himself as he walked in the front door, past a tall, female german shephard who did nothing but follow him with her eyes.

Since there was nothing but a single hall with four doors, and the second on the left said PRIVATE, he knocked.

"Yes?" asked a rather gruff voice.

He opened the door to find a rather fat racoon -- a contradiction in Jaime's mind, until now -- behind a rather large, metal desk. It was slightly warped by the weight of a pile of papers on the left, and on the right a heavy wooden case containing a solid-gold coin the size of Jaime's spread hand.

"Ah, Doctor Tikali, I presume?" asked the occupant, standing slowly from a thin, wooden chair, ears drawing back slightly.

"Commander Charles Maddox," smiled the doctor as he read the engraved plated bolted to the desk's edge. They shook hands, and Jaime sat down, feeling very formal in the military office.

"I assume you know why you're here," he asked rhetorically.

"To find the last fission warehead on earth," annuonced Jaime with mock braggadicio.

The racoon smiled pleasantly, but didn't laugh. "To be more specific, this warhead was lost during an accident. A cargo plane carrying four crashed. Three were incinerated, along with a lot of humans, but the fourth bomb's explosives didn't trigger. Instead, it went straight through the ice, never to be seen again. It was too deep to recover, and since submarines couldn't get to it, the humans called it lost. It was good enough, they said; if we can't get it, no one can."

"But that was before they actually had used them on each other," inserted Jaime dryly.

"No," corrected Maddox sharply, looking up at a book on the window sill, "history says they did once before aggressively. But mostly, they did nothing but test detonations under controlled conditions. Either way, they called it lost, and just kept maintaining the military base. We can't afford to take that risk after we saw what it got them."

Jaime could see in the racoon's eyes, dark circles seeming to become darker, that he felt he had the weight of the entire Global Defence Force on his shoulders.

"I assume you have a plan, Doctor," he growled good-naturedly, leaning back in his chair with a calm, but lofty, heir.

"Yes Sir, but it won't be cheap," cautioned the doctor. "Quite simply, it relies upon the fact that the steel casing of the warhead has a different density than the ice, rock, and snow around it. All we need to do is set off several charges and watch the signature. If it's within five miles of where we do it, it'll show up."

"And why didn't the humans do that, if it's so simple?" he asked pointedly.

Jaime guessed it was a question just to test him, and took no offense. "If they'd had the budget, they would have. But I would guess they were devoting their explosives to destroying buildings instead of digging 100 foot deep holes, and their massive computational power scanning the skies instead of tremmors of Giaya."

The raccoon nodded. "And how do we go and get it, if it's 500 feet down?"

"Quite simple: dig a mine. Pretend it's gold -- probably more valuable, actually, and go get it. Very expensive, very easy, sir," he concluded with a smile.

Maddox nodded again. "One more question," he asked, leaning forward in his chair and getting a vicious look in his eyes, "if it's so cut and dried, why do I need you?"

Jaime was taken aback by the question, but answered it despite being a ltitle flustered. "Plutonium is quite poisonous, in addition to being radioactive. I will certainly need to assist with the disposal."

Before he could continue, however, the door to his office suddenly burst open.

"Sasha!" exclaimed the commander plesantly as the german shephard standing guard stepped through it quickly, the bottom half of her uniform missing. "Have you met Doctor Tikali?" teased Maddox.

The german shephard looked at him lustily, and drew her sidearm and pointed it at Jaime. "Not yet," she growled, pointing it at the terrified otter, "let's see how he licks."

With nothing but lustful eyes, and a lick of her muzzle, she walked around, and pushed her private parts in Jaime's face.

"Just because you prefer males doesn't give you a free pass," she growled, as Jaime struggled to breathe under her stifling scent.

When he realized she had know way of knowing his opinion on such matters, it was a dead giveaway for a dream. The moment he knew this, his eyes popped open, and no one was in the office but commander Maddox, looking quite perplexed and a little annoyed.

"Doctor?" he asked when Jaime sat up, heart still racing from his dream.

"I'm sorry, sir," he replied, hiding his fear as well as possible, "it's my narcolepsy. What did you say?"

"I said your plan seems resaonable. However, I will need about a week to gather the manpower necessary for it. In the mean time, feel free to take advantage of what little we have here at the base."

Jaime nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"I will have Lieutenant Corwell escort you to your quarters." He pressed a button under his desk. The door opened just as brisquly as in the dream, and the german shephard appeared -- in full dress.

Jaime grit his teeth as his heart accelerated just looking at her, even though her uniform was complete, and she seemed to feel nothing at all as she saluted.

"Corwell, this is Doctor Hy-mee Tick-ah-lee."

She nodded clicked her heels, despite the dull sound the snow boots made, and bowed sharply.

"Escort our guest to quarters."

"Yes sir," she replied, voice much higher than it was in the dream. "This way," she offered.

Jaime stood, still trying to shake off his impression of her in the dream, and to convince his gut to trust her without supervision from the commander.

As anyone would expect, including the rational part of his mind, he followed her down the hall to the last door, and they arrived at an eight-bunk room without incident. In the middle was a large pile of cards and what looked like a pile of coins, but looked like they were made of worthless steel.

"Boys," she interrupted, "this is Doctor Hy-mee Tick-ah-lee," she stated, pronouncing the name exactly as Maddox had. All of them seemed incredibly busy playing whatever game this was; Jaime had known about the pastime of cards, having known a mathematician obsessed with them, but considered them an academic curiosity. He didn't expect GDF soliders to be playing with them.

She then began the introductions, around the table clockwise. "This, Doctor, is chopper --"

The hare who had piloted the helecopter gave a fast salute and looked at the cards in his hand.

"-- hardnose, --"

The weasel, whose snout did seem rather large for his species, did look up and said nothing but, "Doc," in a rather nasal voice.

"-- snowflake, --"

The snow leopard looked up with cold, blue eyes, and said, "Jason, please, Doc," making everyone else snicker. Apparently, his lack of muscles compared to everyone else had cost him.

"-- and Han."

The hyena with Leiutenant's insignia just threw five coins from his pile into the middle, and said, "call." Everyone followed suit.

"No nickname?" asked the Doctor with a smile.

"They tried," replied the hyena without the slightest hint of humor, "but I beat 'em out of it."

"The leiutenant has a strange sense of humor," added Corwell, "don't mind him."

"That's what Maddox said, and he got promoted," added Chopper.

"What have you got?"

"4 aces," replied the lieutenant with a smirk, putting his cards on the table.

Everyone else sighed, threw down their cards, and the hyena got the big pile in the middle. Even without knowing the rules, it was clear to Jaime, based the size of the pile he had, that Han was winning.

Jaime's body, however, hadn't forgotten at what hour he was asked to report for transport. "I don't suppose," he yawned, "you all would mind if I went to bed."

"If you can in broad daylight," replied Han cynically as he picked up the pile of cards in the middle and started dealing them face down.

"You'd be ahead of me," grumbled the weasel, whose bunk, Jaime noticed, had a pair of blinders in addition to many other sleeping amenities.

Not wanting to get undressed in front of anyone else, the doctor slept in his winter coat and heavy trousers with blankets, calling that good enough. He closed his eyes, and hoped he could fall asleep in such a bright room. He found himself just listening to the chatter.

"Ante."

"Raise 3."

"See your three, raise 1."

"Fold."

"Raise 5."

"And what's this?"

No answer.

"Your 5, and 10 more."

Silence.

"Your 10 and 5 more."

"Your 5, and 15 more."

"Careful, snowflake."

"Shh! ... Call. ... Oh, you've got to be kidding me! We need fewer wild cards..."

Around and around they went, Han's voice the least common and most smug. At least that was until Jamie got half way asleep, after which time Chopper upstaged him well enough to get cheers.

"Would you all mind?" mumbled Jaime at this point.

"Sorry, Doc," replied Chopper.

Jaime was convinced he was alseep, perhaps for quite a long time. But it was impossible to tell, because even though he stopped listening to the words, they were still going when his memory resumed recording time. The voices were weaker now, but the game went on. The words were quiet, but were sharp enough in tone to make up for it.

"You've done quite well Snowflake, second place by my count."

"So how about I do the paperwork instead?" asked the leopard glibly.

"Careful, Snowflake," snickered Hardnose, "or you'll end up cleaning the barracks with your tongue."

"I'd rather clean Jaime with my tongue!"

The exclaimation got the otter to sit bolt upright, only to find the snow leopard -- and everyone else around the table -- in their bunks, sound asleep, despite the daylight pouring in through the ice-covered window.

***

Jaime considered it unfortunate his unconscious mind had chosen Jason to think about that way. It was only a short nap later that he was being shaken awake, and after nothing but a cold shower, wound up in a rather cramped computer room with the leopard at the terminal.

It was small enough that their chairs were crammed in a corner at a 90 degree angle at the end of the only path someone could walk, and warm enough that he didn't need a coat. The room's volume was taken up by several banks of processors and disks, their heat vents, and cables snaking between them to an open ceiling.

Jaime was looking at a wall-sized monitor designed for graphical displayed, and Jason was at the only keyboard in front of a much smaller one built into the wall.

"Okay, now you said sattilte data," Jason mumbled to himself, controlling a wall-sized screen opposite the one he was looking at.

Quite quickly, a wireframe map covered it, rotated itself level with the surface of the Earth, and quite textures of ever-increasing quality washed over it in waves.

"Alright, Doc, where do we start?"

"Thulle Airbase, of course."

More typing made the wireframe return, move swiftly southward, angle itself once again, and rewash its textures of white snow and occasional green. However unlike last time, there was a massive hole and wrecked structure, just like the one he saw when he flew over it; but this map revealed great architectural detail it was impossible to get from an aerial view.

"They must have been preparing for this," murmured Jaime as he looked at the complexity of the bunker, noting both food stocks and briefing rooms.

Jason didn't answer, concentrating on his typing despite a lack of any change in the map for an entire minute. "What exactly are you looking for?" the leopard asked rather suddenly when he took a pause.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite sure," admitted the Doctor, "I was planning to just go out and blast based on best guesses."

"But what are you trying to measure?"

"Since I can't detect radiation to a precise enough degree, I just want to find a change in density of the object. Metal is a lot denser than ice, and so should come back differently on the sonar when we blast."

"Let me see if I can build a map of ice density based on cores the humans took..."

Jaime just watched him type, not sure what else he could do as the map returned to a wireframe and danced a little more as ice core measurements were included.

It was quite astonishing to watch Jason in the reflection of the screen's plastic. Even if he didn't know the math of ice density patterns, he seemed able to ask the computer to calculate it. The typing he did resulted in the fairly quiet fans in the bank nearest to him to whirr much more loudly as the screen slowly began repainting one tiny row at a time between the wires.

"This'll take a while," stated Jason with an heir of satisfaction, "get comfortable."

"That seems impossible in here," wrly remarked the otter.

"I guess I'm just used to it then," yawned Jason, putting his feet up on the edge of the keyboard he was typing on and slouching back in his chair. Apparently the card game had gone on longer than he had seen, for the cat's body seemed to relax immediately, and his breathing indicated he was asleep within two minutes.

Jaime had nothing to do but watch the reflection, pondering further what his unconscious mind had started without his permission. The full uniform covered him completely, except for his head and neck; even his hands had white, cloth gloves on them, which made the rest of the grey uniform look dusty by comparison. They were worn by everyone, but didn't seem to provide much protection against the elements, as attested by the hare's extra jacket and gloves when he piloted the helicopter.

However, on the white body, they seemed to match well, and made his hands -- perhaps if Jaime squinted -- appear quite smooth and bare of adornment. He looked so at peace, ears randomly twitching once in a while, that Jaime would otherwise find him hard to resist. The concrete grey uniform and black boots did quite discourage him, for not only did it clash with the color of his fur, but also was a reminder he was in the GDF. And everyone knew, no matter what you did, your decision to do it in the military instead of somewhere else was a strong statement about you.

He could tell by the sounds of the card game that this youthful male was an outcast, or at least the bottom rung on the social heirarchy. Perhaps, he thought, that's what his subconscious mind picked up on. He would surely have great frustration over his situation, and anyone who could sooth his problems could be someone whom he would return affection to. He also seemed like the only one who was not somehow changed by the GDF into a cynic or a thrillseeker -- possibly the reason he was the bottom rung.

As the otter imagined what he could even hypothetically do to rescue the leopard and win his affection, however, he was startled by a very loud, crisp beep from one of the computers near the monitor.

"There it is doc," blurted the semi-conscious Jason one second later as he took his feet down from the keyboard with a grunt.

"Good," replied the otter as he struggled to return his heart rate to normal, "could you print out the density of 50 feet down? That's how deep I think we'll dig the holes."

"But you'll need more than that so you know what comes back."

"Yes, but I want to carry the map with me so I know how hard it will be to make the hole."

"Yes sir," replied Jason somewhat more sleepily than Jaime suspected his sergant would have liked, and did more typing.

A large printer -- the endmost box of equipment wide enough to print a map -- started clicking, whirring, and humming within seconds. The map took about 10 seconds to print, due to its large size: 18 inches side and almost three feet long.

"Thanks, Jason."

"You're welcome," he replied, his voice rather suddenly and unusally aloft. It was just enough to make the otter ponder a possible love interest for one more second before he left the room.

Jaime now focused on his next task: convincing himself to risk his neck in the helicopter one more time and return to Thulle air base. Halfway down the hall, he was met by the familiar dog.

"Need something, sir?" she asked formally.

"A helicopter, actually, to begin my search."

"I'm afraid Han is busy at the moment, let me check."

She started walking down the hall, and Jaime followed, guessing the Lieutenant was involved in some sort of military acquisition process for the vehicle. She strode quickly past Maddox' office down one more, and knocked.

There was a grunt, and then the hyena's voice rang out. "Yes!?"

"Doctor Tikali wishes to see you about a chopper!" she yelled to penetrate the door.

"Tell him I'm busy with paperwork, he can have it in an hour!"

Jaime nodded, and started walking back to the barracks, but she stopped him. "The Doctor wishes to point out," she called into the door, "that the sooner he can get his readings, the sooner he can find the weapon, and the sooner Commander Maddox can give you that promotion he promised!"

"And how does the Doctor know I'm up for a promotion?" he snarled back.

"Snowflake told him!" she replied.

Jaime silently winced in place of the leopard, and tried to hide his incredulity when it sounded like Han believed her.

"Get Charlie ready, and send Snowflake along as punishment. I'll have the forms done by the time anyone asks."

"Yes sir," she replied completely levelly, even though the doctor could plainly see the smile on her face.

As she began walking back toward the computer room, Jaime dared ask, "what exactly is your duty, Lieutenant?"

"I keep everyone busy," she strutted, "and sometimes that means knowing how to push buttons."

And stepping on toes, thought Jaime nervously.

She was at the computer room door, and with nothing more than two knocks, Snowflake was standing smartly at the open door, map already folded in a leather pouch.

"Ready for departure, sir," he answered to Corwell.

"Good. Get going."

And with a salute, which she had to return before he even flinched, he began walking brisquly out to the main gate.

Doctor Tikali, under the distant but watchful eye of Corwell, got his coat back on and did a bit of habitual fur grooming before he walked out the gate. With a rather strange screech from a starter motor, the rotors of the helicopter were already starting to turn. Wanting to get on his ear protection as quickly as possible, Jaime rushed in, grabbed one of the ear protectors, and strapped himself in.

Snowflake followed, and before too long, whistles and whirrs settled into patterns, and the ground began to fall away beneath them. In contrast to himself, whose stomach felt like it was going to fall out of his belly, Jason seemed rather bored by the whole thing, crossing his arms across his map case and closing his eyes.

It wasn't very long before they banked for the first time, and Jaime's irrational fears of falling out of the side of the vehicle -- five feet beside him and several hundred feet up -- returned. He concluded it must have been quite obvious, for after what seemed like a very long time to take a turn, a paw landed on his shoulder.

"It's okay," murmured Jason reassuringly, his voice incredibly crystal clear despite the deafening background noise.

"I know," said Jaime, not sure he could be heard.

"You're safe with me," he purred next, head quite close to Jaime's ear.

The otter turned slowly to face him, only to find a mischevious look in the soft blue eyes which he found quite irresistable. Just being that close to him, and neither of them seeming to mind, made his instincts take over. Almost without knowing what he was doing, he leaned slowly closer. The smell of the leopard was one he found quite intoxicating as the vehicle's background noise seemed to fade into the distance. They were alone in the universe, suspended in space and time as the chopper flew on ahead of them in the sky -- at least for a moment.

"Hey! Doc!" he barely heard a voice say through the buzzy filter of his earphones, "can you hear me!?"

As much as he hated to admit it, the fact that this was another figment of his unconscious mind indelibly struck Jaime, and he dragged himself out of the dream.

He opened his eyes to find a rather puzzled and concerned Snowflake looking back at him with skepticism. The otter discovered his head was just in the position it would have been to kiss, which was quite awkwardly close to the leopard strapped next to him.

"Since he doesn't have a microphone," continued the voice, which he recognized as the hare's, "I figured I had better wake you up on poor Slowflake's behalf. He was asleep, Snowflake, he has narcolepsy. He couldn't help it. It's a good thing," he added wrly, "it looked like he was going in for the kill or something."

Jason didn't seem reassured by the explaination, but at least seemed more leery than fearful as Jaime did his best to focus on his equipment strapped to the other side of the hold.

Indeed, only five minutes later, they arrived at the ruins, and Chopper made the Doctor jump -- a mere one foot to the ground. Jason helped him take down the 60 pounds of seismographic equipment, quite a difficult task since it drifted several feet a minute. But in the end, everything was dropped right next to the huge hole in the ground, with one exception.

"Where's the explosives?" asked Jaime, it not occuring to him until now.

"Hardnose is bringing those by truck, they're too unstable to fly."

Jaime nodded, and grit his teeth, not sure what to do for an hour. "I suppose we'd better look around," he stated more to himself than to Jason, and started walking toward the crater that used to be the bunker which stood gaping in the Earth before him, leaving the equipment stacked in a haphazard pile.

As the snow crunched beneath his boots, he couldn't help but wonder if the missing object they sought were right down below them; if he was standing over it right at this moment. But as the size of the hole became more apparent, he realized more and more the depth an unexploded bomb could fall to if given enough initial momentum.

"They must have been insane," he rhuminated aloud, "to build so many of those things."

"The way they saw it," answered the leopard, surprisingly close behind him, "it was insane not to have them if your enemies did. Mutual Assured Destruction, they called it."

But Jaime couldn't escape the images of death he could imagine from the hole. "How about Mutual Assured Trust?" he snapped, kicking some snow into the bowl of concrete and snow soup.

Jason didn't say anything to reply.

Jaime wished he could just get rid of the entire GDF, and knew that everyone wished they could. But, in fact, their continued existence seemed like the ghosts of the humans laughing. You know you can't live without our weapons, they seemed to be saying; the world can never be safe.

"I don't think it would have landed here," suggested Jason, "because this happened long before the destruction you see here. The plane crashed far enough away to avoid damaging the base when three of the four had their high explosives detonate."

"That must have been some explosion," caustically remarked Jaime, "spreading that plutonium over probably a quarter of a mile. I'm surprised it didn't kill every single plant within --"

And that's when he it dawned upon him that he had been going about this all wrong. He froze dead as the thought appeared in his mind, fully formed, of how to find the nuke.

"Let me see that map!" he exclaimed. Jason, somewhat surprised, handed it to him. "How good were those densities? Do you think they could see roots of vegitation?"

"Maybe, but they're pretty tiny, Doc."

That didn't stop Jaime, however. He saw a faint pattern in the tiny speckles that looked like just noise. "I think I can see it," he beamed to Jason, who just looked blankly at the map, "to the North!"

Snowflake obviously didn't like it, but knew how to follow directions, so off they went.

***

It took the rest of the day for the serach. Hardnose followed up in a heavy truck whose suspension seemed to Jaime like Chopper's flying the explosives would have been safer. Jaime just wandered around, generally to the north, trying to find a particular spot where the plant noise seemed the faintest.

"Here it is!" he shouted, sitting down for the first time in hours, letting his exhaustion catch up with him.

It seemed to take them quite a while to come over to him, afterwhich Hardnose simply asked, "that's it?"

"This is where the explosion killed off all the plants, hampering the growth of roots!" exclaimed the otter, feeling somewhat incredulous at the weasel's ignorance.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled, "so can we blast a hole now?"

"I have to get the equipment set up first," replied Snowflake, "why don't you go get it?"

As Hardnose sighed and started walking back to the truck, Jaime thought it odd that the corporal was able to tell the sergant what to do.

But it turned out there was a reason. It became quite clear, as the white, warm fur moved toward him once again, and wrapped his arms around the otter, this was a dream too.

"I wish," sighed the otter, as his eyes opened and he found himself laying on his back, concern on the faces of the weasel and Jason looking down at him.

"What?" asked Hardnose, somewhat puzzled.

Realizing the two words came from his actual mouth, the otter just mumbled, "nevermind."

"It looks good, Doc," continued Jason, "this is about where we are. Who'd have thought you could still detect it after all this time?"

"Now we start blasting, to answer your question," Jaime said, still trying to remmeber how much was a dream.

"My question?" asked Hardnose.

"Nevermind," he repeated, "sorry. Now for the seismographs."

"You get the seismographs," Hardnose directed to the leopard, who just nodded with a sigh.

"Yes, sir."

Jaime followed Jason, partially out of empathy, partially because he just liked looking at his neck and head, as if he were a piece of art.

"You don't have to go with me, Doc," he suggested.

"I need the exercise, don't worry," reassured the otter, more nervously than he had intended.

But as they trudged on, the trek of almost a mile seemed to stretch on and on. The exhaustion Jaime felt was by no means cured by his one small nap, and before long, he was kept going only by thoughts of following someone so attractive as Jason.

"You still behind me, Doc?" asked the leopard occasionally.

"Yeah," panted the otter, who took off his coat by the third rest break. By the fourth, it was almost too heavy to carry. He was astonished at Jason's stamina, despite his lack of visible muscle. It must be the power of youth, he thought; he didn't feel old at age 32, but he knew that his best days were behind him.

Finally, after close to half an hour of walking, they arrived.

"Doc," asked Jason as he ran diagnostic tests on the equipment, pushing buttons on the tiny screen, "can I ask you a personal question?"

Jaime always hated questions about questions, so gave his standard answer. "Ask, and maybe I'll answer."

"What do you think of Lieutenant Corwell?"

The otter smiled. "She's very -- efficient," he replied tactfully.

"No, I mean -- what do you think of her, if you know what I mean."

The emphasis of his voice indicated he had a specific reason for asking a question particular to a domain outside normal military conduct.

"I suppose she's attractive," he replied, hiding the fear still hinted by his dreams, "why do you ask?"

Jason stopped the diagnostic, getting quite nervous all of a sudden. "Because I've been put up to a prank," he replied sheepishly, "and if I don't do it, I have to clean the barracks for a week."

"That doesn't sound so bad," replied the Doctor, thinking of his dream, "at least you don't have to do it with your tongue."

Jason laughed, but more nervously than jovially. "Whatever, Doc," he replied, "but the point is, I have to catch her without her clothes on, and I don't think I can requisition a camera without her finding out."

The thought of her without clothes on made him shudder, but he got a hold of himself momentarily. "And you want me to get a camera for you?"

"I'd be real grateful, Doc," he begged, "I'd do anything in return."

"I don't know about that," he jested to prevent himself from considering the ramifications of that magic word 'anything', "but I can understand your sentiment. I think I can do it."

The leopard began his typing on the screen again. "Thanks Doc," he replied with a smile, "she'd never suspect you."

The way he said it rubbed the otter the wrong way. It seemed to imply that his dreams had somehow been broken. "And why would that be?" he snapped.

He felt more annoyed when the leopard seemed reluctant to answer. "Oh, well, I was just thinking because -- you're a guest, not normally in on what goes on around here. Done, Doc," he interrupted himself, even though the sentence ended in a rather hanging way, "let's go back."

"Alright," Jaime sighed, his irritation leaking into his voice.

He walked for only five minutes before exhaustion caught up with him once again, the only thing allowing him now to drag a 60-pound seismograph being his anger at the leopard. And so, when he collapsed onto the snow to rest, he demanded an answer.

"Why is it, exactly, that she should trust me, and I mean really?" he growled. The cat was rather surprised by the question.

"Well, Doc, I mean, I didn't want to bring it up --"

"Well bring it up!" he snarled, wanting to hear what he was positive Jason was about to say.

"Well, Doc, if you must know, it's because you don't chase females."

He nodded. That was the answer he was expecting. "And who told you?"

"It's just a rumor."

"Happen to know who started it?"

"Maddox said it was in your file."

"My file!?" he exlcaimed angrily.

"You must have slept with an officer somewhere along the line," teased Jason.

"Captain Reiss wouldn't do that to me!"

"You don't know how military minds work," replied Jason.

Certain that the leopard was right, he felt he should take his revenge. He suddenly lept on Jason, and pinned him to the ground.

"How would you like to find out what Captain Reiss did!?" he snarled.

Jason said nothing, and didn't resist, as his tail started slashing around violently and he shifted his weight to his elbows. His body said he was ready and expectant for mating.

But as Jaime was only as he was figuring out how to remove the trousers of the uniform that he heard Jason's voice, except from behind him. "Captain who?"

He knew it was another episode, but didn't want it to end. He just wanted to touch the leopard's soft flesh, once in a dream when he couldn't in real life.

"Give me a minute," he snarled, having the feeling he was using his actual mouth. But that gave him the knowledge he wasn't using his actual hands, and the experience seemed to become slowly less real. By the time his fingers managed to find the snap he wanted, the entire thing felt like a ghostly mirage; all vision and no substance at all.

He opened his real eyes, and found Jason looking over him with an expressoin that was now becoming familiar. "Feel better after the nap, Doc?" he asked lightly.

"No, but I can keep going," growled Jaime, more surley than ever having just been deprived of something he had been wanting for a while.

They started marching again. Jaime managed to keep up with the cat surprisingly well, he thought, given how his muscles ached. However, he still wanted to finish that conversation, if anything, to distract him from the pain.

"What, Jason," he asked, "did you mean she wouldn't suspect me? It sounded to me like you had more to say."

He was glad to discover the anger had been drained from his voice by exhaustion.

"Nevermind that, Doc," he replied, "I don't want to say anymore."

"I'd rather be insulted than ignorant," he insisted through heavy breath.

"Well, okay, I don't know if I should say this but -- well, she thinks you -- don't like females."

Jaime had no way of checking to see whether something was a dream or not, except through pattern recognition. Jason didn't seem to be acting strange this time, and none of the cues about what he was doing were there. Deciding it wasn't a dream, he decided to tread cautiously.

"What?" he repeated nervously.

"She is convinced. She thinks she has this magnetism, and so every male -- especially males who live out here in the middle of nowhere -- who doesn't lust after her must prefer his own kind."

Under normal circumstances, when confronted with this information, society was generally accepting enough for him to simply say, "well, she's correct in this particular case." However, this mas a place were GDF fraturnization rules were strong, and desires stronger. He decided to be more circumspect, lest Jason become afraid of him, and see if he could avoid either telling the truth or a lie.

"That seems rather presumptuous," he remarked.

"Yeah, I know. And when chopper tells her about your nearly kissing me, she'll be completely convinced."

Jaime was rather taken aback by the statement; he was hoping the whole thing had been forgotten, but it was clear to him now that rumors were probably all a military base this isolated had to live on.

"Don't worry, that wasn't you," reassured the Doctor, telling the truth on a technicality; Jason in his dreams never acted like Jason in reality.

He heard Jason chuckle. "Right, Doc," he added nervously.

But Jaime got the sudden, terrible sense the leopard didn't believe him.

They arrived without incident as sunset was complete, leaving the sky a nice mixture of purple and orange. Jaime sat in the back of the truck, which was now half empty, and decided to take a proper nap and attempt to ignore his complaing stomach. But his dream turned out not to be the one he hoped for.

He heard arguing, and when he looked up to investiate, he saw Commander Maddox quite angry with Jason, he couldn't tell about what. He took out his sidearm, and in full view of Hardnose, shot him through the shoulder, making the cat scream in pain and start crying. Hardnose reacted by setting off all the explosives without a fuse, and as a large tower of flame lapped at the truck bed, Jaime was startled awake.

Without thinking, he stood up, wanting to confirm it was all a dream, and saw Hardnose about 200 yards away lowering something into a hole as Jason worked on the sensors.

However, he was still quite shaken. He tried to calm himself down, rubbing his face with his hands to try and shake off the images which still haunted him. To his brain, at some level, they were real, and convincing himself they weren't was a monumental task.

It did help, however, when everyone returned to the truck, and the blasts did nothing but make a lot of noise and spray a small cloud of snow into the air -- nothing like the immense fireball of his imagination.

"That's it?" he coudln't help but ask.

"Anything bigger and we wouldn't be here," wryly remarked the weasel.

Jaime believed him.

When the data came in, Jason said things looked good. "It's definitely not ice," he remarked, "I think we've found it. But I'll have to process it back at base to be sure."

Jaime considered that good enough, and got in the truck for the long drive back.

***

The first place the otter went was straight to the mess hall, and got some nearly raw, freeze-dried meat. He couldn't stand it, but he was so hungry he held his nose and ate. He grabbed a large glass of water, to at least replace the raw meat taste with rusty pipes, something he preferred by comparison.

He returned to his bunk, and flopped down. Through his daydreams of home -- real food, clean water, and not having to wear his coat to bed -- he barely heard Jason report as he walked from the mess hall to his bunk that the object was the right size and shape to be the nuke. They had gotten extraordinarily lucky. Moments later, he fell asleep.

The next thing Jaime heard was a familiar, female voice. "Commander Maddox wants to see you."

"Now?" he groaned.

"It's ten hundred hours," she answered.

Jaime sighed, got slowly out of bed without even thinking, and walked with nothing but a fur smoothing of his head after her. He kept trying to better open his eyes and look more alert as he followed her down the short walk, and found that her loud raps on the door did help for their shock value.

"Enter," replied the voice after a short delay.

She opened the door, and stood at attention.

"At ease," lazily commanded the raccoon, leaning behind his chair.

"Congratuations, Doctor," added Han, who was standing behind Maddox's chair, somewhat out of place on the wrong side of the desk.

"It was luck," shrugged off the otter, "but I am glad I could help." He noticed Lietuenant Corwell leave out of the corner of his eye.

"I've got several hundred flying in to help dig it up," continued Maddox, seeming rather pleased with himself. "It will take them about a week to get here. I assume you will want to stay around to supervise."

Not quite sure he would be good at supervising anything, Jaime just nodded.

"Good. That's all, Doctor." He could almost heard "dismissed" at the end.

But as he was about to leave, Jason's request dawned on him. "Uh, Commander, could I requisition a camera?"

"May I ask why?" he asked pleasantly.

Jaime didn't have a ready reason, so just came up with the first thing that popped into his mind. "Just so I can remember this, that's all."

The racoon stretched, and shifted himself in his chair. "I suppose so," he replied, with an edge, "is that all?"

Getting the sense Maddox was waiting for him to leave, Jaime nodded, and quickly walked out. He also noticed Han get a rather nervous look on his face as he walked around and closed the heavy office door.

Trying to wake up more, he ate soup for lunch, which was as thin as water, and whose flavor came close. Chopper came in, and sat down three seats down in the otherwise unoccupied room able to seat a hundred.

Jaime slowly realized he would have nothing to do for several days. Interrupting whatever it was Chopper was staring at in his soup, he dared ask, "would you teach me to play cards?"

The hare replied, without looking up, "you wouldn't seem a good card player to me."

Jaime was rather surprised at this assessment. "And why not?" he asked defensively, "I'm quite good at mathematics."

The hare smiled ruefully, and met Jaime's eyes. "Poker is not about mathematics," he said sternly, "it's about lying. And you don't seem a very good liar, Doc."

"Lying?" he repeated quizzically.

"Lying," repeated the hare. "I'll teach you the rules, but only if you agree not to play with us, for your own good."

He remembered how Han won an astonishing amount of the time -- something he sensed was mathematically unlikely in a game based heavily on chance. "If I agree, then who am I supposed to play with?" he demanded, since after all that was the point of learning.

"Corwell, I guess," Chopper smirked, "or maybe all those fuzzballs they're flying in."

Jaime didn't like it, but saw no other way to fill his time. "Alright, I agree," sighed the otter, feeling there was far less of a point, "now teach me."

After returning to their bunks, Chopper explained the basics: scoring, drawing, and betting. Other than a large number of card patterns, the otter thought it would be a fairly easy game, at least in theory. But he tried to keep Chopper's warning in mind about his skill as the hare dealt the first hand.

Indeed, Jaime got absolutely nothing of value. After putting back three of the five, to try and avoid being a total give away, he opened with a modest bet.

"See your five, raise ten," stated the hare, eyes locked trance-like Jaime's face.

Having no idea what Chopper had, he decided to call. He won.

However, this simple strategy proved to be his ultimate demise. The second time, when he put in an equal bet, with an equal hand, Chopper called, and won. The third time, the same thing happened. By the fourth hand, when the same thing happened yet again, Jaime folded; he shouldn't have.

Slowly getting more and more frustrated, he lost hand after hand, until after his tenth hand, he refused to pick up the cards dealt to him.

"How," he sighed, just staring at them distastefully, like a plate of food on a full stomach. "How can you win every time?"

"Whenever you're nervous," he explained in a flat tone of voice, "your jaw clenches."

Jaime chewed air a few times as the muscles were brought into his attention. "Really?" he asked, feeling quite self-conscious.

"You and Commander Maddox both," he added. "That's why he doesn't play cards with us either."

"Corwell doesn't either," Jaime observed.

Chopper didn't answer. "So have you had enough poker, or would you like to lose everything?"

His question had not a hint of humor in his voice, and his eyes were just as cold as when he stated his game intent.

But the eyes, to Jaime were an invitiation; surely the hare did something when he was nervous, and Jaime now was determined to find out what it was. "I'll go for broke," he replied, trying to mimic the tone of voice.

As he picked up his cards, he heard someone enter, but didn't look up. "Hi, Snowflake," said Chopper as he put two of his cards back into the deck and drew.

The leopard didn't answer as Jaime put down one card, hoping to turn three of a kind into four, but not expecting to. To his astonishment, however, luck literally dealt him good fortune.

He saw Jason walk around behind the hare, and then stand at attention, presumably trying to avoid giving hints at Chopper's hand.

"Fifteen," opened Jaime.

"See your fifteen, raise you ten."

Jaime, however, was sure that he had the upper hand.

"See you, raise you ten more."

"See your ten, thirty five more."

Jaime couldn't help but be bold. "Twenty more."

"Fold."

He sighed, and with a smile, reaped in the result.

"You missed his eyes light up," Jason suddenly stated.

This insight got Jaime quite annoyed. "Does everyone look at jawlines and eyeballs!?" he snapped.

"It's habit, sorry," smiled Jason.

"It's nice to know when your commander is lying," added Chopper.

"Maddox seems quite reasonable," remarked Jaime, "when would he lie?"

"Everyone has to lie some of the time, Doc, you should know that."

This observation sent a chill down Jaime's spine, as he realized that Jason might have insight into his infatuation.

"I quit," he stated pointedly, not wanting further insights into his mental state to be realized.

"Okay," answered the hare. "Snowflake, close the door, would you?"

As Jaime laid down on his bunk and closed his eyes, to block out the memories, he was suddenly returned to reality with the door's loud bang.

"I need your help, Snowflake," he heard Chopper say. "You see, the Doc here has run up quite a debt, and I don't think he can pay it off."

"Any suggestions?" purred Jason.

Jaime could tell it was a dream. Jason's behavior went from right to wrong in an instant.

Jaime jumped out of bed immediately. "No, you don't!" he commanded sharply, as if to make it so.

"I'll tie him down," suggested Chopper mischevously, ignoring the otter completely.

Wanting to take control of this situation, Jaime jumped up, pushed Chopper to the ground, and grabbed Jason, not quite sure what he was doing.

With his hostage, despite a lack of a weapon, Chopper got to his feet, and didn't move as Jaime wrapped his arm around the leopard's throat.

"It's alright," he said with a surprisingly clear voice, "let him have me. You can leave, I'll be alright."

The way he said it changed the tone of the scene completely. As his own heart started pounding in anticipation, and Chopper was heading for the door, Jaime heard a voice on the other side of it.

"Doctor Tikali, I've got that camera you requested," announced Corwell.

"Not now!" growled Jaime, but she didn't seem to hear him.

"Doctor?" she asked again.

"What!" snatched Jaime as his eyes popped open. Once his brain began processing the information from them, he saw he had given Chopper and Corwell a heart attack.

"I'm sorry," he snarled.

"It's narcolepsy," explained Chopper for him, "must give him some strange dreams."

"It does," added Jaime, trying to shake off his prior lust.

"Your camera is here, Doctor," she said sternly and gave it to him.

He took it, and apologized again. She ignored him.

"Have any of you seen Han?" she asked.

"I thought he was in his office," puzzled Snowflake.

"Nope. I was just in there, and he wasn't there. Thanks anyway, boys," she sighed, and walked out.

"Not again," mumbled Chopper.

"What?" asked Jaime.

"Nothing. All I can say is that we should let Han win at poker."

"Why?" asked Snowflake, quite taken aback.

"Because Maddox doesn't play poker."

Jaime didn't get it, but hung the camera bag around his neck, and tried to figure out when to give it to Jason surruptitiously.

That night, Jaime woke up in the middle of the night. At least, he thought it was night; he had gone to bed, and once again found everyone else asleep in their bunks, except Han.

He went down the hall to the head, the reason he awoke, and on his way back, he heard a loud voice through a door. "Don't you threaten me!" it roared faintly.

It was quite familiar, but not someone Jaime had played poker with. Knowing something wasn't right, he crept down the hall toward the door from whence the noise came.

With nothing but hazy, orange light from the sun coming in the windows, the white corridor seemed surreal. The funny feeling it gave Jaime just looking at it made him realize this must be another of his strange dreams. Curious as to how it would unfold, he walked toward the sound, and arrived at Commander Maddox's door.

There was more snarling speech from behind it. But when he tried the handle, it he found it locked. The click of the lock resisting him made it all go quiet, but as he turned to walk away, he heard the door open suddenly.

"Freeze!" shouted Maddox, making the otter spin reflexively.

He was shocked to find the racoon glaring with rage in his eyes, pointing his sidearm straight at his forehead.

Since no one but the military carried them, Jaime -- like many civilians -- considered their ability to kill, maim, and cause pain legendary. They could do such damage, as the humans had described, there was something almost magical about them.

He was in such a state of stark terror, he didn't even hear Maddox' voice when he whispered viciously, "get in the office!"

Jaime couldn't move.

"Get in the office!" he repeated, dragging Jaime in effortlessly in stumbling steps with his free hand.

He shut the door quietly, keeping the barrel trained steadily on the otter the whole time.

This is a dream, Jaime insisted to try and quell his terror. Maddox would never act this way. He then saw two more reasons why this was a dream: Han and Corwell were naked from the waist down and standing behind the desk, shiverring in the cold, and staring at piles of paper closest to them.

"Now, Doctor," growled the racoon in a strange almost sing-song manner, "you stay, right there, and maybe, I won't kill you."

He pushed his office chair up behind Corwell, knelt on it, and using the gun, bent the dog forward over the desk.

Given that the bottom half of her uniform was missing, Jaime could guess what was about to happen, and didn't want to watch. Realizing he had the camera around his neck, he quietly started opening it as Maddox started taking off his own uniform, groping the german shephard as his pants slid down to his ankles and revealed his grey-furred legs.

Jaime managed to get the case open, and without even taking the lens cap off, boldly shouted, "Maddox!"

When the racoon looked at him, he took a picture.

The flash turned the room white. Since he was expecting it, Jaime blinked at the right time; but Maddox didn't. And it was during the wince and cry of surprise that Jaime grabbed for the weapon from his hand.

The racoon's other hand appeared on it a split second after Jaime's did, but Jaime pulled first, and in getting the gun, pulled Maddox off balance, and onto the floor, which made him let go.

Awakwardly pointing it at the racoon, he held it out, trembling with adrenaline, with only a guess as to how to use it. Maddox, seemingly aware of who had the power now, slowly got to his feet, and held up his hands. Jaime wasn't sure what to do next, but fortunately, Corwell was.

"Commander Maddox," she announced loudly as she bent down and picked up half a uniform from the floor, "I'm arresting you for --" her voice broke as she finished the sentence, struggling to get her clothes back on, "-- two counts of assault!"

Han gently took the gun from Jaime's hand, and pointed it far more steadily at the racoon, face livid but stern.

Since they seemed to have whatever this dream was under control, Jaime walked out of the room slowly, leaving the door open. He returned to his bunk, and tried to go back to sleep.

***

After such a bizzare dream, Jaime awoke slowly. He heard the world as it should be: whispering, perhaps out of respect for him, and the flipping and shifting of cards. When he opened his eyes, however, he found that Snowflake was gone, and Corwell was watching instead. Jaime didn't want to disturb them; Chopper's hand was the one he could see, and he had a shot of winning, so waited until he rather suddenly folded before silently sitting up.

Hardnose was the first to notice his wakefulness. As he dealt, he answered, "morning doc."

Jaime assumed they were being quiet for his sake after all, and answered back, "morning. What's new?"

Everyone smiled coyly, as if he had told some sort of joke. "I wanted to thank you, Doctor," whispered Corwell with a greatful smile.

"For what?" asked the otter quietly with a yawn and stretch.

"For saving her ass, literally," snorted Hardnose. Corwell and Han glared, and Chopper snorted.

Jaime remembered his dream, but didn't see the connection. "What're you talking about?" he asked, "she wasn't on the mission."

"No mission, Doc, just an act that was stupid enough it worked," grumbled Han.

More metaphors which got closer ot his dream. Jamie was now getting worried -- was it a dream after all?

He rubbed his forhead as his stomach knotted up. "Would you please tell me what you're talking about?" Jaime just let his feet drop out from under him, and sat down cross-legged on the floor, starting to breathe faster as if he were preparing for some great pain. "It was just a dream," he mumbled to himself, "it was just a dream."

"What did you do in this dream, Doc?" asked Chopper calmly.

Fearing it wasn't true and he would humiliate himself, and just as much fearing it was true and that he would have a narcoleptic attack, he chose the safest part. "I -- I disarmed Commander Maddox," he hesitated, "he was -- he was being violent and irrational," he manged to find the words.

"Excellent words for the charges," mused the hyena coldly.

Jaime let his back fail now, hitting his head on the mattress of the bunk behind him.

"It wasn't a dream," offered Corwell, "you saved us from him."

"Maybe now you'll appreciate why I got stuck with all the paperwork," added Han.

"I suspected him," added Chopper, "since he's done it before, but I didn't think --" He never finished the sentence.

Jaime, however, wasn't really absorbing any of this; he was still trying to get past the fact he had disarmed an armed rapist, and nursing his bumped head. "I could have been killed!" he exclaimed, as if chastising a rock climber for letting the rope slip.

He didn't hear whatever answer there was, and after he started feeling the stress, closed his eyes a moment before going to take a cold shower.

He hurried to the head, but when he arrived, he realized that there was a shower running. Noting Snowflake's prior absence, he considered it his subconscious mind's attempt to hint at something.

Pleased he could have another one of his dreams to relieve his stress, he walked into the solid tile room, transitioned from the concrete by only a thin steel threshold, and found the last one on the left row was the one generating the steam, a uniform on the hook.

Unlike the rest of the base, which was mostly lit by window skylights, this room was artificially lit by pure white bulbs in the ceiling. Each shower was a stall separated on two sides, but was open on the third; so Jaime just walked around the corner and looked in, something he would never consider were he awake.

Sure enough, there was the snow leopard, soaked white fur and mottled black spots, every inch of him exposed. He was staring at the ceiling, facing the back wall, hands busy in a task commonly carried out by lonely, young males isolated from most of civilization.

Jaime didn't want to interrupt, but found himself unable to resist. He tried to take off his coat and shirt quietly, but the rustling made Jason suddenly stop and turn around. He just about jumped out of his skin when he saw the otter.

"Doc!" he exclaimed, voice sounding startled and angry for the first time Jaime had heard it.

But Jaime remained calm, and hurridly tore off the rest of his shirt and coat. "May I join you?" he growled lustily.

"What!?" demanded the leopard in an identical tone.

Jaime reached past Jason to the side wall of the stall, and turned off the shower.

"I said, may I join you," he repeated playfully, looking up and down the dripping fur, especially to the hard cock.

The blue eyes reflected fear, but also something Jaime couldn't identify. "Doc," he stammered, "I-I don't know if --"

Jaime just started leaning closer to him, removing his coat and hanging it on the hook. Jaime then unbuttoned his sweater, as Jason's eyes just watched the otter's fingers walk down the row of buttons one at a time.

"You're serious, Doc," he repeated in disbelief, starting to shiver.

Jaime couldn't tell whether it was the cold air on his wet fur, or if it was fear, or if it was restrained passion. Since this was a dream, Jaime chose to believe it was the last one. He hung his sweater on the peg for the next shower stall, and took off his undershirt.

"Oh come now," he reassured revealing his chest, "you've surely seen males naked before, being in the GDF."

"Y-Yes," he shiverred, "but I've n-never taken a sh-shower with one."

"There's a first time for everything," continued Jaime, taking off his pants and boxers at once, and finding it really was cold in the shower room.

He shiverred at the shock, and blurted, "wow, it's cold in here." When he gazed upon the leopard again, however, he decided instantly on what to do about that. "Why don't you warm us up, hmm?" he asked as he hung his trousers on the last available hook, and jumped into the stall off the cold floor.

But Jason didn't move; his eyes looked up and down the otter's brown fur, as if looking at a creature from another planet.

Jaime, since Jason took no action, stepped into the stall, gently groping Jason's arms to move him toward the wall, and turned on the water at its previous temperature. It was quite warm, and replaced the cold sting in the room with a sudden hot shock, making Jaime jump before he got used to it.

Jason, who was probably used to it, sighed behind him; the way the showerhead was angled above them conveniently split the stream in half, one part for each of them.

Jason looked nervous, but Jaime did his best to reassure. "It's alright," he whispered, bringing his muzzle with inches of the twitching ear, "I just want to wash your fur."

Still breathing in the smell of Jason, he reached without looking up to the opposite side of the stall where a bottle of soap was mounted.

It was hard for Jaime to resist getting it all over with now, but knew that good things come to those who wait. He awkwardly reached high above the leopard's head, and squirted the liquid into his hand. Finding Jason still quite nervous, but closing his eyes and trying to relax, Jaime decided he would simply be careful.

He pressed the thin gel into a spot on Jason's shoulder, and started spreading it from there. The touch made the leopard flinch, but the gentle pressure and suds as they spread seemed to drain the tension from him. He took a deep breath, and heaved a deep sigh. This trust made Jaime only more excited, and in his own way, quite nervous.

Like a poker player, he tried to judge the meaning of every muscluar twitch in Jason's face; his ears, his eyebrows, his nose, and the corners of his mouth. When he seemed not to object to the addition of his neck to Jaime's list of places to lather, he also tried adding the back of his head. The ears twitched wildly, but the eyes didn't open.

"Feel good?" whispered Jaime, just to make sure. He got a slight nod in response. "Now we move on," he added making sure none of the soap would run down the front of his face, and then brushed his hands quickly down to the small of Jason's back.

When the leopard tensed, but then relaxed, Jaime also added his chest to the area of white fur which seemed to be turning a purer white. He could feel Jason's heart pounding, and his breath coming deep but fast. He was careful just to lather the fur without pressing too hard, lest Jason disklike pressure on his ribcage.

From the chest, the otter moved on carefully to the soft belly, quite lean for the leopard's height. Jaime assumed that, given the soup and meat he had eaten so far, no GDF meals was very satisfying. Just when Jason seemed the most relaxed, and as Jaime moved around to his lower back, Jason suddenly whimpered, "please don't fuck me."

Jaime was quite taken aback by the sudden statement, but tried not to be aware that this might not be a dream after all. "Just relax," he repeated as softly as he could, trying to continue massaging the soap.

"I know that's where this is going," whimpered Jason, his voice still higher than usual pitch, "it's all an excuse to fuck me."

"I won't do anything you don't want me to," reassured Jaime. "You're too cute," he added with a kiss on his cheek.

The otter, in his heart, was disappointed, though; that used to be the plan, though he was perfectly willing to make a new one in light of this new request.

Making sure it wasn't over, Jaime asked as neutrally as he could, "do you want me to keep going?"

Jason was stern and silent for a moment, agonizing over the decision. "Yes, if you promise not to fuck me."

Jaime smiled, relieved he just got to keep touching the one with whom he was so infatuated. "I promise," Jaime murred, and slowly moved from the small of his back to the base of his tail.

He cleaned the long tail gently, as Jason seemed to relax once again, but not quite as much as before. He shifted his stance to spread his legs more, as raised his tail, as if still expecting Jaime to break his promise. But the otter was gentle, and instead continued down to his legs, washing his thighs and buttons as his dick became fully hard.

As he reached down and around the leopard's legs to wash them properly, he could smell more than the soap's vaguely chemical smell. He saw a hard pink, and could smell the unmistakable, universal scent of arousal. Precum was dribbling out invisibly into the water that washed over him, and for someone who didn't want to have his tailhole expanded, Jaime was surprised to see it.

He finally decided, as he got down to the kneecaps, that the bathing he had given was close enough to the effect he was attempting to instill. "Now there's one place I missed," he cooed into Jason's ears, "and with your permission, I would like to finish it."

"O-okay," whimpered Jason, still seeming more fearful than aroused, despite the signals his body was giving out. Jaime decided that the leopard's attitude would change quickly as he gently reached around to the front of his body, and under the nervous eyes of Jason, started fondling his sac. This got Jason to take a deep breath and close his eyes once again, and his cock to jump as he pumped invisible muscles inside of his pelvis.

When Jason seemed to be getting quite a bit of enjoyment out of it, the otter added his other hand to the soft flesh of Jason's shealth. This got Jason to gasp above him, as Jaime could feel the warm, thin, sticky precum slowly emerging from the tip of the slit. Considering it an invitation to bring Jason more pleasure, he drew back the sheath, and started playing with the smooth, pink head.

Jason moaned and panted, as the otter skilfully manipulated him, and it was almost no time at all before the leopard came with a deep groan and a triplet of thrusts. The water carried it all away down the drain, as Jaime did his best to keep the leopard in his plesurable bliss as long as possible -- until he arched his back and winceed.

When Jaime let go, Jason, almost in a trance-like state with his closed eyes and quiverring body, sat down on the floor of the shower. He didn't seem to feel the water running off him, for he did not even react when it began splashing all over his face as the stream's angle pounded down from its height.

Jaime, never the less, turned the water off, his own cock now harder than ever. "Feel better?" murmured the otter, kneeling down beside the spent cat.

Jason smiled sheepishly, but didn't reply.

"It's the best feeling there is," Jaime added, "but I wish I could feel it too."

This got Jason to open his eyes; perhaps they would have been afraid, but the leopard now seemed incapable of feeling fear. "What do you want me to do?" he asked naiively.

Jaime was almost beside himself with lust and affection; the leopard's wet, dripping fur only accented the shape of his body, and the coolness of his soft, blue eyes.

"All I want," Jamine stammered, starting to get nervous himself at approaching such a thing he knew was no longer a dream, "is to feel what I have wished for almost since meeting you. I would ask, no, beg you, to please me. It would mean an incredible amount to me." His heart raced in anticipation as he watched the leopard's eyes shift downward as he contenmplated.

But after a few tense moments, he looked back up into Jaime's eyes, and then scooted on his knees toward the otter's body, looking at his hard cock as if it were some sort of foreign object.

"It's okay," Jaime explained, barely able to keep his wits about him, "it's easy to learn. Just reach out and squeeze gently, just like I did to you."

The leopard seemed quite uncertain about it, but got hold of the otter's sensitive orbs, and squeezed mechanically. But Jaime was excite enough it was divine.

"That's it," he groaned, "now start licking." Jason tried to do as he remembered, pulling back Jaime's shealth. It took him a moment, however, to touch Jaime's pink flesh with his tongue.

Jaime felt the sensation overwhelm him for an instant and grunted in pleasure, but looked down to see the leopard was clearly unaccustomed to the taste. But seemingly with more duty than desire, he licked again, and then again. Soon, he was licking persistently enough that Jaime couldn't tell the difference.

The otter allowed his pleasure to build, swept up in the periodic, consistent, amazing sensations he was being given by the skin on his tip. "Good," he groaned, "don't stop... Don't stop... good..." But as the tongue continued to slide against his flesh, and precum began to emerge, he lost the power of speech.

Not long after he reached that point, petting the head of the leopard, as if to reward him and make him continue, one stroke of his tongue did it for Jaime. He thrusted and moaned quietly, and with the next lick, the pleasure rose dreamatically, making his entire nervous system light up, a surge of sensation rushing through him he had so seldom experienced.

The one from whom he was getting it, Jason knelt before him, recieved a wave of affection in addition to Jaime's sticky semen. Jaime did not really pay attention to how the leapard reacted, to it, but decided that it would all wash off anyway.

When his power of speech returned, he sighed, helped the leopard to his feet, and then embraced him in a warm hug.

"Thank you," he whispered, "I've been wanting to mate with you an incredibly long time."

But when he released the white, wet fur, the eyes that looked back at him were full of bafflement with a whiff of fear. He still didn't know what to think of it.

Jaime smiled, and dried off, put his clothes back in on the chilly bathroom, and wandered back into the bedroom to find his bunk.

***

He wandered back to the bunk, as if nothing had happened, and laid down for a nap, waiting to wake up again, to test if this was a dream. But nothing changed. He opened his eyes after several minutes to the same scene he had closed them to.

"By the way Doc," added Corwell as she wrote down the score, "Acting Commander Reiss wants to see you as soon as you're done in here."

The name was one he hadn't thought of in a while, at least when waking.

"Reiss?" he asked, quite stunned, "Robert Reiss?"

"Yes, do you know him?"

"He's -- an old friend," he cautiously replied, "what's he doing out here?"

"Snowflake dug him up from somewhere, he said he'd be a good replacement for Maddox in the short term."

"He's right," Jaim simply confirmed, trying to get it into his head that his mating with Jason was real.

"I'll be there in a minute," he said as he got back up. He went back into that same shower stall, and to make his lurking fear sink in, found severeal threads stuck on the hook.

He stumbled over to one of the sinks across the room, and stared at himself in the mirror, trying not to have another attack. I really did it, he thought to himself. But he knew he couldn't deal with this now. He tried to straighten himself up, not wanting to look shabby for his "old friend," though on a military base, he didn't expect it would be anything more than a working relationship.

When he had his fur best flattened and smoothed, as well as a smile on his face, he marched proudly down the hall and rapped sharply on the office door when he got to it. "Enter," answered a voice straight from his memories, relaxed and in control.

The otter opened the door, and found the grey wolf with a smile just like his. Without even so much as a word, they embraced across the rather overcrowded desk, knocking over Maddox' trophy, and not bothering to stand it up until they both had decided it was safe to let go.

They sighed, their eyes meeting, and didn't speak for the longest time; there was so much they had in common, so long ago, that there was no need to describe any of it.

Jaime, after running throught their silent, psychic conversation in his head, was the first to speak. "How've you been?"

What he got was a laundry list much longer than he had expected. The wolf had moved around quite a bit, getting ahead through works within and outside the rulebook, and had been promoted to Commander only a month ago. Jaime found it boring, but from his mouth, his attention could go nowhere else. At least, it couldn't until the wolf chose to end the story the way he did.

"So what have you been doing, besdies of course saving the base from the crazed racoon who last sat in this office?"

Feeling he should straighten this out, more for himself than anyone, Jaime was indignant. "I didn't save anyone," he insisted, "I thought it was a dream. It was certainly a strange enough sight to see -- what I saw."

"Whether you like it or not, the two Lieutenants would disagree with you. They are most greatful for what you did, even if it was stupid. Assault and dereliction of duty, as far as I've heard from them, aren't enough." The latter, Jaime remembered, was the offense pinned on any relationships beyond working, as they no longer held their position as the closest thing to their heart.

"Perhaps I should be worried, then," he asked sourly, "about us?"

"There will be nothing to worry about, I'm afraid," Reiss replied matter-of-factly, "because whenever I wear this uniform, I've learned to leave all my feelings outside this office."

Jaime could tell even in his tone of voice, now dispassionate, had changed. "While I do miss you somtimes, I believe I can live with you under my command -- but only by forgetting about what we had. My commission means a lot to me; I hope you can undertand."

Jaime understood, but couldn't help but feel his heart sink. He wanted someone to help him understand what just happened, and the wolf seemed just the one. But no feelings meant no feelings at all.

"I understand," he replied, "but I"m worried."

"You'll have a lot more to worry about than that," he replied without answering the question. Without warning, he suddenly barked, "Corwell! Get in here!"

The door behind Jaime opened instantly, almost hitting him, and the dog appeared, and stood at attention.

"Corwell!" he repeated.

"Yes sir!"

"Do I look stupid to you?"

"Sir, no sir!"

"What was Commander Maddox charged with?"

"Derelection of duty and assault, sir!"

Jaime watched in astonishment as the wolf whom he knew by his kind heart had eyes becoming colder and colder.

"Repeat what you heard through the door to anyone, and I'll be charging you with the same! Is! That! Clear!?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

For the first time, Jaime saw fear in her eyes, and heard a shake in her voice.

"Good," he added, his voice returning to the tone of a civilian, "at ease."

She changed her stance, but didn't relax very much.

"It is clear to me," Reiss continued, starting to make a speech, "that Commander Maddox -- whom I do not even know -- felt no respect for the Uniformed Code. Perhaps it was the isolation so far away from any superior officer."

Jaime considered adding a history Chopper had implied, but rather let his friend have the moment.

"While I am commander, in charge of many more than he, that simply cannot be allowed to continue. And as part of that, as is required by the uniformed code -- and at the expense of my better judgement," he added with a smile, "I hereby bestow a temporary commission, in the rank of Lieutenant to Dr. Tiaki."

He then started digging around in maddox's desk, ignoring Jaime's stunned shock. Without really thinking, the otter sat down in one of the chairs, and blinked several times.

"Ah, here it is," annouced the wolf, and lifted a large tome onto his desk. "There's the Uniformed Code. We don't have much time, so you had better start reading."

Jaime grabbed the heavy book from off the desk as he head the wolf address Corwell and start talking. He didn't really pay attention to them as he slowly opened the cover, and read: "Sectoin 1, Chapter 1, The necessity of heirarchy."

He didn't like the sound of that, so flipped to a chunk of pages, landing in the middle of Section 2 Chapter 10, on conduct regulations. "Officers shall be held responsible for their behavior at all times," threatened the text, "including times off duty and all states of mind. Nacroleptic attacks are not excepted."

How specific it seemed to be to his case didn't occur to him, due to the immense weight the book seemed to be putting him under. "Respect is to be shown to superior officers in all circumstances, and formality of address is required in spite of any prior dealings."

He turned the page, and was still further horrified. "All regulations regarding conduct are retroactive. ... Enforcement shall be conducted primarily by a superior officer, not the officer in question of any misconduct. ... Prosecutions shall be convened... Penalties for derreliction of duty are discharge and up to ten years in prison."

He turned one more page, and had a heart attack. "He who lies with a male shall be put to death, for it is an abomination."

Closing the book, and realizing it was a copy of a human religious tome, his eyes snapped open.

"Jaime?" asked the wolf gently, his voice returning to the soft one the otter remembered, "are you with us?"

The book on his desk was far slimmer, only about a hundred pages, and Jaime realized the point at which he had left them. "I'm sorry," he mumbled before reassimilating his enviornment, "you see I'm --"

"I know, I know," reassured Reiss, "it's okay. You don't have to stress out about this," he continued with his more brash voice, "temporary commissions are exempted from most of the Code; this is the important part. I would suggest you read it over breakfast, Lieutenant. You're dismissed." He said it with a smile, but Jaime found it somewhat abraisive just the same.

The otter was quite relieved to learn, over the cold soup he had for breakfast, that the rule which he had most dreaded was far more specific for his case: fraturnization was only forbidden along the chain of direct command; temporary commissions were thought unable to have a long-term impact upon the organization.

So, Reiss would not be persecuted for his off-duty activities all those years ago -- and as a white leopard walked in, Jaime pondered whether "the chain of command" allowed him a loophole. He concluded it showed in his eyes, for when Jason took one look at him, the leopard immediately turned around and quickly started walking back the way he came.

Jaime got up, and went to the door. "Jason," he called down the hall, but he was ignored. "Snowflake!" he shouted angrily, "c'mere!"

just as Corwell stepped out of the office. "Corporal!" she commanded, "you will obey the orders of Leuitenant Tikali!"

Jason seemed just as stunned as Jaime had been, but snapped to attention. "Come here," repeated Jaime, voice adopting the tone of Reiss.

The leopard marched over to him, and stood at attention, eyes glowering and jaw rigid, as if he were preparing to be slapped.

"At ease," Jaime added, remembering the practice, "and come sit down, please," he added to make it clear it wasn't an order. He returned to his soup, and Jason followed him, sitting down two feet down the bench, -- as if an officer wasn't supposed to sit next to him, Jaime thought.

He waited until he watched Corwell continue down the hall, and heard her footsteps move away from the door. Deciding he didn't like the protocol, he just slid over to the leopard, and looked him right in the eye.

"I'm very, very sorry about this morning," he began in a hushed voice, "I thought I was dreaming. If I were awake, I would never have done that."

"Permission to speak freely?" asked the leopard nervously, voice higher in pitch once again.

"Of course," sighed Jaime.

"You scared me, Doc. I still don't know what to think. And worst of all, something -- wants me to do it again." He clenched his fists and shivvered as he added the last part.

"That's quite natural," Jaime reassured, "because sex --"

"Shh!" snapped Jason, "don't say that out loud!"

Jaime was quite startled by the sudden sound. "Okay, okay, that thing, then, is quite natural, and quite addictive. All I want from you now, if you will give me one, is a normal, working relationship."

"I don't think I can do that, Doc," winced the leopard, "it's too late. Either I'm gonna ignore you from now on, or -- or I don't think I'll be able to resist."

Despite the words, he was clearly not happy about his predicament; and it was this unhappiness that kept Jaime's lusts at bay. When awake, he could not force himself upon anyone. "Well, according to this -- I think," replied Jaime cautiously, looking at the book, "you can either resist, or not, without fear of your comission. And I would simply say that I think ignoring me will become quite difficult."

"Just do me a favor," he whispered, looking around, eyes indicating he was about to say something very serious.

"Anything," replied the otter in a reflective tone, lust choosing the words, but managing to remain serious.

"Just -- only do it at night, okay? I take a shower every Tuesday."

The otter found his trousers fitting less comfortably, but just nodded. "I'll keep that in mind," he answered without a smile, "would you prefer warning or not?"

"Surprise me," he replied breathlessly, whatever lust he might have covered by a thick layer of fear. Without another word, he got up, and walked out of the mess hall.

Over the next week, Jaime was dragged slowly into military form. He had to wear the uniform, which he found underdressed most of the time for the cold buildings, and as the troops arrived, found himself behaving differently than before. But unlike his old friend Captain Reiss -- now a Commander -- he kept his good nature, and tried to be gentle when he felt compelled to issue orders. This got him quite frustrated, but he survived by taking it all out on Jason every week; and over time, the leopard started to enjoy it.

Four weeks later, when the troops had extracted the nuke and he had supervised its hazardous disassembly, Jaime's final act was to get Jason some leave. The leopard, as he had hoped, chose to spend it with him.

The End.

(version 1.0)