{"sf1_id":734711,"sf2_id":"q1xwvzgn","title":"\"The Thin Line,\" Part B","author":"EOCostello","words":1809,"posted_at":"2014-07-24T00:54:00.000Z","tags":["Elf","Roebuck","Skunk","army"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/734711-the-thin-line-part-b","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/q1xwvzgn","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/9a/2c/9a2cb743-301b-4fe1-85d2-80abcdc23dd2","description":"#2 of The Thin Line\n\nIn this episode, Private Westersloe Winterbough has a fateful meeting. For some curious reason, he is recruited by no less a personage than Prince Roland, the Marshal of Faerie and commander-in-chief of the Imperial and Royal Army. Recruited for what? To be a soldier-servant to a somewhat erring, if good-hearted, officer? Curiouser and curiouser.","content":"\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; If you discount the fact that I was, by some quirk of fate, assigned to latrine duty for the next seven days, there seemed to be few repercussions from the events of that night.\u0026nbsp; This in spite of the fact that I took the risk of using Gramerye more than I usually did in public, and more often.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; It could be argued that this was childish, trying to show up the D.I.\u0026nbsp; You would be right, of course.\u0026nbsp; It **was** childish.\u0026nbsp; But: it was also fun.\u0026nbsp; Particularly on the spear target qualification courses.\u0026nbsp; I achieved a score that my skill with the spear should have prevented.\u0026nbsp; Well, I should say, I achieved it twice, since the sergeant bawled out the unlucky corporal who was doing the score-keeping, and scored the second round himself.\u0026nbsp; He snapped a quill doing so.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; One thought did occur to me after the scores had been posted:\u0026nbsp; I had clearly miscalculated, and I was setting myself up for a possible role on the frontiers of the Empire that would prove significantly nasty, brutish and short.\u0026nbsp; Of late, the borders had been a lively area, and most of my training platoon was in all likelihood going to end up there, sooner or later.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I was not alone in this train of thought, as it clearly had occurred to my D.I. as well.\u0026nbsp; Clearly, in that he expressed a desire for me to test my skills in combat, and the sooner the better.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; The arrival of a messenger, with orders for me to report to GHQ at Albric Tor, seemed to imply the worst (or the best, from the sergeant's point of view).\u0026nbsp; For once, there were looks of sympathy from my fellow recruits.\u0026nbsp; A few even shook paws.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Albric Tor was, by far, the busiest place I had ever been in.\u0026nbsp; Unsurprising, of course, for an Imperial capital, especially one in the peak of the summer season, when the Court was present.\u0026nbsp; There were few signs about.\u0026nbsp; If you belonged in the capital, you probably knew where you were going.\u0026nbsp; If you didn't...\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Presentation of my orders, with the GHQ seal on them, did make things easier with the gendarmes patrolling the streets. Even still, I got more than a few glares from underneath the bills of their red peaked hats (hence their nickname, the \"Red Caps\").\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; GHQ turned out to be a small building tucked down the street from the Royal Palace.\u0026nbsp; Somewhat unusually for the nerve-centre of a might army, it was mostly a cloister with a large garden. There were offices tucked away out of sight, to the point that there was a lack of signage, and a lack of furs, to direct one.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; A clerk nibbling at a bit of seed cake was surprised to see a fur in the middle of the garden.\u0026nbsp; It is possible that he thought I was some unusual type of exotic flower.\u0026nbsp; In any event, he peered at my orders, gave a soft whistle, and pointed me to one of the corners of the cloister.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Another fur there, a seeming twin of my helpful clerk, was nervously ruffling his feathers and peering out into the garden every few seconds.\u0026nbsp; I disappointed him a bit by not being who he was looking for, but he too read my orders, and ushered me into a dimly lit office.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; It was actually rather pleasant, once my eyes adjusted to the light and I successfully resisted the urge to sneeze from the dust that had accumulated there.\u0026nbsp; The room was crammed with large mounted parchment maps stacked against a wall, boxes of scrolls and scroll-containers, and a desk that was owned by a fur who clearly did not believe in the ancient adage of \"clean desk, orderly mind.\"\u0026nbsp; Still, the thick stone walls made the room cool and easy to stand in.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I was lucky that I was standing, because I heard a repeated and heavy stamping on the flagstones nearby. I was thus rigidly at attention when a large, ponderous and somewhat elderly skunk entered the room, followed at a respectful interval by the second twin clerk, hopping nervously after him.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; The skunk, which was wearing a marshal's uniform tunic, stopped, swiveled around, and bellowed at the poor fellow.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Well, FIND them, damnit!\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; The clerk fluttered out in a hurry, and the skunk seated himself heavily behind the desk, and began pawing through the stacks, huffing and grumbling to himself.\u0026nbsp; It was only after a long interval of fruitless searching that he noticed I was there.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Well?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I saluted.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Your spectacles, sir, are on the table behind you, next to the wine glass.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; He looked up, somewhat startled, and turned around.\u0026nbsp; He found that I was correct, and immediately applied the article to his nose.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Gads, that's better.\u0026nbsp; Can't see a blasted...well, by the great Fuma's stamping feet, who are you, anyway?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I presented my orders, and the skunk looked through them.\u0026nbsp; The clerk fluttered back into the room, and was greeted with a sour expression.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Buzz off.\u0026nbsp; Found 'em.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Oh.\u0026nbsp; Sorry, Yer 'ighness.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; He watched the retreating tail feathers, and then noticed I was still standing at attention.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; He waved a paw languidly.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Oh, at ease.\u0026nbsp; In fact, take a chair.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; There were none that were vacant, as boxes of scrolls were occupying the space.\u0026nbsp; An irritated bellow brought forth the clerk, who moved one of the boxes and quickly vanished.\u0026nbsp; The perusal of my orders resumed.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Winterbough.\u0026nbsp; Winterbough.\u0026nbsp; Winterbough.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I've known a few Winterboughs in my time.\u0026nbsp; Knew a chap named Westersloe Winterbough.\u0026nbsp; Two of 'em, in fact.\u0026nbsp; Any relation?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Yes, Your Highness.\u0026nbsp; That would be my grandfather and my uncle.\u0026nbsp; I'm named for them.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Hah!\"\u0026nbsp; The skunk leaned forward, and squinted through his spectacles.\u0026nbsp; \"You look like 'em.\u0026nbsp; Shorter, though.\u0026nbsp; Short, even for a roe deer.\"\u0026nbsp; He rummaged through his desk, pulling open a drawer, and eventually found a scroll he was looking for.\u0026nbsp; Opening it up, he read through it.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Oh, that's right.\u0026nbsp; Forgot about your father.\u0026nbsp; Hmm.\u0026nbsp; And your two brothers.\u0026nbsp; Old Army family.\u0026nbsp; That's the hell of having furs serve together, sometimes....little wonder they let your mother keep you.\" He resumed reading.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Good scores...hmm!\u0026nbsp; 99 of 100 on inspections.\u0026nbsp; Don't see that too often.\u0026nbsp; Did well on the qualification course.\u0026nbsp; Practice?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; An elf cannot lie.\u0026nbsp; Which is not to say that he cannot answer in a bit of misdirection.\u0026nbsp; \"I should think, sir, that it was not a case of martial skill.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; This brought forth a snort, and a reach for a bottle of wine.\u0026nbsp; \"Well, at least you credit luck.\u0026nbsp; More than some damne fools do these days. Level of boasting makes you sick.\u0026nbsp; Furs didn't do that when I was...\"\u0026nbsp; A half-glass was poured, knocked back, and produced a soft and evidently satisfying belch.\u0026nbsp; The scroll that evidently described me was consulted again.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"D'ye think you're qualified for a combat role, Private?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; An easy answer, and one that did not require misdirection.\u0026nbsp; \"No, Your Highness.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; At this, the skunk looked up.\u0026nbsp; \"No?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"No, sir.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Why not?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"I'm rather smaller than most recruits, sir, as you observed.\u0026nbsp; I do not believe my qualification course results could be duplicated in combat.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; My scroll was shaken.\u0026nbsp; \"Your instructor thought so.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; The scroll was consulted, and tossed aside with a snort.\u0026nbsp; \"Well, he's an idiot.\u0026nbsp; You're clearly not qualified for the job.\u0026nbsp; Can't think why these damne furs waste my time...\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; He poured another glass of wine, and leaned back in his chair, scowling at his feet.\u0026nbsp; After a while, he looked at me slowly, and then reached down to the floor and picked up my scroll again.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"99 out of 100 in inspections...\" he mumbled.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; With a grunt and a heave, he got up from the chair, and rolled over to the window, to look out over the garden and its fountain.\u0026nbsp; He stood for quite some time, head bowed.\u0026nbsp; With a sudden start, he snapped his fingers, and bellowed for his clerk, who fluttered in nervously.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Who was that damne fool on parade last week, the one that came fifteen minutes late and didn't have his hat?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Um...that would be Lieutenant Chitterleigh, sir.\u0026nbsp; Sir Jasper Chitterleigh.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; The skunk rolled his eyes.\u0026nbsp; \"Oh, that's right.\u0026nbsp; Lord Twelveoaks' youngest, so I can't sack him, and I daren't send a twit like that out where he'd actually have furs in combat under him.\u0026nbsp; What was his excuse for being late and improperly dressed?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"He said, Yer 'ighness, that 'is batman 'ad lost 'is 'at in a card game.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"In a card game?!\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Is that bloody plausible?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Actually, Yer 'ighness, it's quite possible.\u0026nbsp; 'is batman is in gaol.\u0026nbsp; Drunk and disorderly.\u0026nbsp; Fourth time in seven months.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Well, Chitterleigh's got a new batman, effective immediately.\u0026nbsp; Get some orders written for...errr...oh, that's right, Westersloe Winterbough V.\u0026nbsp; Assigned to duty, Imperial GHQ.\u0026nbsp; Report to Lieutenant, blah-blah-blah.\u0026nbsp; Issue of rations, blah-blah, the usual.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; The clerk nodded, and fluttered out.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; The skunk ambled back to his desk, and seated himself heavily once again, and poured another half-glass of wine.\u0026nbsp; Raising it to his lips, he paused, and peered over the rim of the glass.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"What d'ye think I have in mind, Private?\u0026nbsp; You can speak freely.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I thought for a while, and then looked up.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"On the surface, keep Lieutenant Chitterleigh out of trouble.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Correct.\u0026nbsp; And...?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Be quite, unobtrusive, and observant.\u0026nbsp; Report anything odd or unusual to your clerk.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; The glass of wine was sipped slowly and thoughtfully.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Your grandfather served under me, back when I was a junior officer, oh...damne, more years that I care to think about.\u0026nbsp; One of the best NCOs I ever had.\u0026nbsp; I pinned two valour medals on your uncle, too.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; He finished the wine, and put the glass aside.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"I don't think you're as strong or as fast as your namesakes were, Private...but I'm going to gamble you're as smart as they were.\u0026nbsp; Ten-shun!\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I got to my hooves.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Dismiss!\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; A salute from me, followed by a right turn and quick march.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"The Thin Line","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/734709-the-thin-line-part-a.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/734712-the-thin-line-part-c.json"}}