Author's Foreword: This was an idea generated in December 2010 after conversing about how interesting it could be if properly explored. I wrote this story within a few weeks, for I was taken with the idea; after all, I am a law student. This story might appropriately be subtitled: "MoFo - We Know (Legal) Drama." The characters of Modesty Rapidfire, Georgia Stahlmansche, and Espadrille are the property of their author, Tergonaut, and are used with his express, written consent. The character of Ash Fox is the property of his author, SilverShadow0, and is used with his express, consent. All other characters are the property of me, Rapidfire the Hedgehog. I thank both Tergonaut and SilverShadow for allowing me to run with this idea. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

***

            Moonlight
beamed down on the two figures hopping from roof to roof on that clear winter
night. The bright lights of the metropolis around and below them shone upward
to illuminate their activities further. A cold, brisk wind blew through their
hair. They came to rest momentarily on a high tower, bearing the words
“EFFECTIVE CYBERTRONICS UNLIMITED” in large, neon lettering at the top of the
edifice. Within moments, the two of them had dropped into the halls from a tile
in the ceiling. They came to rest at a corner and peered into the next
corridor. One of them looked at the other, a slim but unequivocally feminine
figure wearing a somewhat form-fitting bodysuit.

            “Jase
doesn’t mind you…uh, you know…”

            “What?
Doing this? As far as he knows, I’m just ‘at work’, and that’s that.”

            “Actually,
I was gonna ask if he minds you wearing that get-up like that.”

            The woman
ardently tried not to blush. She pointed down the hall and instead replied,
“Would you just take a look at what’s beyond those doors?”

            Her
partner, a mightily tall grey fox, sniggered and trotted down the hallway. He
approached the electronic keypad outside the doors at the end of the hall and
started fiddling with it. A little, green light shone in the relative darkness
of the hallway and the doors slid open. The two walked into a sizeable office
suite. The numerous skyscrapers lining the Sega City
skyline were lit and visible through the glass window lining the suite, as if
anyone anywhere in town could be watching at that very moment. They stopped in
front of an ornate, mahogany desk. On it rested a simple laptop computer,
presently in hibernate mode. The woman did an acrobatic flip into the plush,
leather chair behind the desk from rest. The fox’s eyes were scanning the
perimeter of the room. An oculus was focused intently on the two of them. With
a huff, he reached into his pocket, removed a coin, and flicked it from his
fingers. The coin shattered the eye of the security camera watching them with
striking precision.

            “Was that
necessary?” she said, her fingers clacking away at the keyboard with a musical
fluidity. He shrugged. A few seconds later, someone from outside the suite
yelled, “Come out with your hands up!”

            Two robot
drones marched into the room with their assault rifles at the ready. There was
only the grey fox seated at the desk, typing away at the laptop. He waved at
them with a broad smile on his face. He then pointed up at the eaves of the
door through which they had just entered. The drones turned around in time to
see the woman drop from above the door and bash their heads together
vehemently. She did this several times before the two drones collapsed in a
heap of shorting circuitry.

            “Was that necessary?” the fox asked snidely.

            “Are you
almost done?” she asked impatiently.

            “Hey, you!”
yelled someone from out in the hall. The woman sighed.

            “Oh, dear.”

            The fox
could not help but look up from the laptop as a human guard, a middle-aged man
in uniform, raced into the suite. The woman cocked her head sideways at him,
like she was inspecting an insect. The guard raised a truncheon and waved it in
her face.

            “Who are
you two?” he demanded.

            She dropped
low, tripping the guard with a sweeping kick to his ankles. When the guard hit
the floor, she grabbed one of his legs and one of his arms to swing him into
the wall. He rebounded onto the floor. Three more robot drones appeared in the
corridor. One attempted to push the woman down to the floor. She lifted it
bodily and smashed it against the second drone. The third one then knocked her
hard against the wall. The annoyed woman grabbed the robot and flung it to the
floor. She stepped on its chest, grabbed its arm, and effortlessly yanked the
appendage off to batter the robot senseless with its own limb.

            “I’m going
to have to put down on your evaluation you don’t play nicely with others,” the
fox said.

            “For
goodness sake,” she sighed.

            “Aha! Got
it!” the fox declared triumphantly. “Let’s see what in this little file, shall
we?”

            Before
another second passed in the room, a red light in the corner started flashing.
The glass window that extended around two of the office walls was sealed behind
a thick layer of metal. Robot drones dropped through the ventilation system in
the ceiling. Human security guards burst through the doors, their rifles already
trained on the two targets. The fox and the woman looked at each other quietly.
As the security poured in, the woman resignedly raised both of her hands in
surrender.

            Someone,
somewhere in town had indeed been watching the proceedings in the ECU office
with great interest. She smiled to herself.

            “Ash Fox,
Modesty Rapidfire…you’re mine.”

            In the Sega City
criminal justice system, the forumers are represented by two separate yet
equally important groups: the Staffers who investigate crime, and the Public
Prosecutors who prosecute the offenders. This is one of their stories.

---

            “Thank you
for affording me a moment of your time,” she said, as if she had rehearsed the
line. She was not an unattractive woman, dressed in conservative business
attire. Her red hair was done up in a prim bun. Seated across from her were two
figures: one was an older woman in her early forties. She had dark brown hair,
dark eyes, and equally conservative business clothing. Beside her sat a short,
scarlet hedgehog in a black suit with a black necktie, one white stripe running
down the middle of it. He had one paw over his mouth like he was deep in
thought. His nearly pitch-black eyes made it all the more impossible to guess
what was in his mind.

            “It is not
a problem, Miss Stahlmansche,” said the older woman. “We obviously have a
vested interest in the pursuit of righting wrongs.”

            “Of course,
Miss Nomodike. As you know, my company, Effective Cybertronics Unlimited, has
often been the subject of scurrilous rumor and unfounded accusations. It is
something I’ve grown accustomed to: success comes with its detractors,” said
Miss Stahlmansche wearily. “That much, I can live with. What I cannot live
with, however, is the audacity of terrorism masquerading as vigilantism. My
security intercepted two intruders last night, who turned over to police
custody for breaking and entering, assault, and attempted larceny. It pains me
to think that an innocent, law-abiding citizen should be afraid of her modest
business being the target of unrepentant attacks such as these.”

            Miss
Minerva Nomodike had one hand on her desk and the other was gently fingering
the strand of pearls around her neck. She was the head of the Sega City Office
of Public Prosecution, and had been for five years now. Her zeal for relentless,
aggressive prosecution and her renown for incorruptibility had landed her in
that position. Everyone in the seedy underworld of Sega City
knew her name. Indeed, if there were only one whose name was more terrible to
those who found themselves haled into court for their misdeeds than Minerva’s,
it was the hedgehog beside her. He was Jason Rapidfire, a dread instrument of
prosecutorial vengeance. His dark eyes blazed with continual righteousness. It
was said he had been a crusading swordmaster before he had found himself at the
SCOPP. No one could make sense of that tale, but it only added to his aura of mystique.

            “I see,”
Minerva said noncommittally. “We don’t often find the criminally wronged party
coming to us, however. We prefer to have the police conduct their investigation
first…”

            “There
won’t be any need to wait,” Miss Stahlmansche said. “The police have assured me
their investigation is complete. Here are pictures of the perpetrators.”

            She reached
into her business jacket and removed two folded pieces of paper. She slid them
across Minerva’s desk. Minerva looked sideways at Jason and then gingerly
unfolded the papers. Jason barely flicked an eyelash. Minerva knew this was
coming. She was somewhat interested in how her junior prosecutor would react.
Seeing no immediate response, Minerva nodded and returned the papers to Miss
Stahlmansche.

            “Obviously,
this is the sort of case that, if brought to trial, could lead to some very
unpleasant questions being raised about the adequacy of justice and its
dispensation across Sega City,” stated Minerva flatly.

            “I have no
doubts about that. I would even suspect that if this did not proceed to trial, it would lead to the same unpleasant
questions,” Miss Stahlmansche swiftly rejoined.

            “That is
undeniably true, and yet we must proceed with a degree of circumspection, Miss
Stahlmansche. We are looking at a delicate situation. We oughtn’t to do
anything to make that situation more volatile than it has to be.”

             â€œEnforcement of the law should not recognize
some as being more equal than others. I came here today specifically to remind
you of this very point,” said Stahlmansche, her tone taking on a serious
gravity. “I know you are a sophisticated woman, Miss Nomodike, and I know you
would do nothing to sully the name of the SCOPP. Some people are simply
unrefined and incapable of understanding the enormity of this situation. I
trust you will uphold the law as you always have: without prejudice.”

            She
delivered the last sentence with a smile. Her eyes turned to Jason, whose face
was whitewashed with neutrality; not a hint of emotion could be read anywhere
in his body language. Minerva drummed her fingers on her desk and decided to
hesitate no longer.

            “You seem
to have taken notice of my associate. Mister Rapidfire has a short but highly
distinguished service in prosecution. His conviction rate is the highest in the
office. He’s brought many a case back from the grave. His coworkers have dubbed
him ‘Phoenix Rapidfire’ for that very reason. There are, obviously, many concerns
that might be raised by me so doing, but if I am to pursue justice to the
utmost of my ability, I must assign him to this case.”

            Stahlmansche
turned her head slightly. “The ethical dilemma that poses suggests to me you
are joking.”

            Her tone
suggested she was not joking. Minerva took notice of this.

            “The
conflict of interests, being what it is, can be seen to by assigning him
co-counsel to ensure the fair-minded pursuit of this case. I will be trying
this case alongside him.”

            Stahlmansche
seemed visibly relieved by this proposition and rose with a smile. She extended
her hand. “Knowing you will be appearing in court, in defense of honest, decent
people is a great relief to me, and knowing Mister Rapidfire will be involved
assures me of firm, singular devotion to this cause. Good day, Miss Nomodike.”

            Minerva
took her hand. “Good day, Miss Stahlmansche.”

            Stahlmansche
saw herself out of the office. When the door closed, Minerva exhaled deeply and
asked, “What do you think?”

            For a
while, Jason remained perfectly still. Minerva wondered if he was even
breathing. Then, the hedgehog remarked, “Georgia Stahlmansche is the embodiment
of a trollface.”

            Minerva
rose and went to the mini-fridge she kept in her office. She returned to her
desk with two root beers and slid one over to Jason, who grabbed it and leaned
back in his chair. Minerva popped her soda open and took a sip.

            “This is
unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Two Moderators are caught breaking and
entering into private property to commit corporate espionage. Stranger still,
my best prosecutor is best friends with the one and the husband of the other. I
can only imagine how the press will interpret that.”

            Jason
looked at her, his gaze almost entirely resentful. “I still don’t see what your
angle is in putting me on this case. Much as I hate the swine, Georgia
Stahlmansche is still right: this is a conflict of interest.”

            “Sega City
is not as big as it used to be. We are a very closely-knit community. This sort
of thing is probably going to start happening more often, but we can’t stop
dispensing justice because of it. The sooner we get used to this, the better.”

            Jason spun
around in his chair and stared into the blue heavens. He gave the sky as
incensed a look as he could and glowered quietly. Minerva could be
unrelentingly pragmatic at times. Now was not the time for anyone to be so
frustratingly sensible.

            Minerva
took another swig of her root beer. “Whatever happens, happens, Jason. We have
to set an example.”

            “The
Moderators are the ones out there who are protecting us! What example are we
setting by trying them in a court of law?”

            “Are you
saying that our reliance on the Moderators’ good will ought to prevent us from
checking them when they do wrong? Just because they wear the silver stars, it
doesn’t mean they get a free pass,” Minerva reminded.

            “We’re
going to vilify every law enforcement officer Sega City
has the moment this goes to court.”

            “That
already happened the moment your wife and best friend illegally raided Georgia
Stahlmansche’s office.”

            The bang! of the root beer can against the
door filled the room. Jason had slung it across the room in his ire and started
for the door. Minerva sipped at her own root beer quietly. When Jason opened
the door, he turned and bitterly asked, “Well? Don’t you have something else
insulting to say for a Parthian shot?”

            “Be on time
for trial,” Minerva commented.

            Jason
slammed the door behind him.

---

            “We make a
fine pair, don’t we?” asked Ash Fox, seated on a bench in his cell. Lying in
her bunk in the cell, Modesty Rapidfire looked over at him with a displeased
expression. She was restless from the hours of confinement.

            After
surrendering to the robot drones in ECU, Modesty and Ash were surprised to find
themselves immediately turned over to the local police. The police had acted
with some trepidation in arresting two Moderators, but they nevertheless
processed their culprits and brought them into holding. Two detectives
questioned them for an hour about what they were doing on ECU property. Both Moderators
politely declined to answer without the presence of an attorney. The detectives
tried to play it down, assuring them that these were routine questions that did
not require the entanglement of a lawyer. Modesty then sweetly assured them
that their insincerity would be duly noted when she was free and in a position
of authority above them again. After that, the police simply locked the
Moderators up in a cell without further comment.

            “How did
this happen?” Modesty eventually asked. “We were so careful.”

            “Not
careful enough, I’m afraid,” said Ash. “For all we know, this moment is
something Stahlmansche could’ve been living for. Maybe for years. It doesn’t
really change the fact that they do have the truth on their side. We were acting outside the law, albeit for
a good cause, but…”

            “Calling it
‘a good cause’ is like calling an attempt to solve world hunger as ‘a
worthwhile way to pass time’, Ash,” Modesty said, slightly irritated at his
cavalier attitude. “Georgia Stahlmansche is trying to get her hands on things
she knows nothing about: Templar technology or even the Cosmic Icky-Sticks.
These things are not for anyone to possess!”

            Ash shared
in her frustration, but took a calmer view of things. “I agree with you
totally, but we’ve come to believe our little nocturnal visits at ECU are so
normal that we’ve forgotten why we treated them with any sense of concern at
all: they’re not lawful.”

            Modesty
turned over in her bunk. The obnoxious, orange jumpsuit she and Ash were
wearing grated on her nerves, like nearly everything else about prison. She
adjusted her glasses on her nose.

            “If only
we’d managed to get that file open, then we’d have at least accomplished
something meaningful,” she lamented.

            Ash was
about to respond when the warden appeared before their cell door with a woman
in tow. The warden pointed to Ash and Modesty, saluted, and left, leaving the
woman standing there. She bowed her head politely as the cellmates looked at
her with interest.

            “Good day.
I am Minerva Nomodike, Director of the Office of Public Prosecutions.”

            “Hello,
Miss Nomodike,” Modesty said. She had never met Minerva, but Jason had spoken
of her at home. Minerva straightened herself.

            “I just
came by to let you know a few things. Normally, government agents have
sovereign immunity from their actions if they are deemed to be
discretionary—that is, within the bounds of their normal, rational discretion.
However, there is nothing to suggest that what you did was anything less than
completely unfounded.”

            She paused.
The growing frowns told her the message had been received. “We know how
delicate this matter is. I’d like nothing more than not to follow through on
this.”

            “Nobody’s
twisting your arm,” said Ash, crossing his long legs.

            “I pride
myself on running an honest office,” Minerva said. “If I ever caught the
slightest hint of misconduct on the part of one of my prosecutors, I would hang
him out to dry like any other criminal. That is why I am here to inform you
that you should seek an attorney now. We will be proceeding with this to
court.”

            Ash clicked
his tongue in distaste. Modesty approached Minerva from the other side of the
bars and asked, “How is what we were doing not discretionary? We weren’t there
for our amusement.”

            “That is
something I cannot be certain of. It seems that the two of you have visited ECU
on more than one occasion to spy on the company, going back for a number of
years. This is not the behavior of rational agents. This is harassment, to say
the least.”

            “But those
times were always with good reason! We had to stop…”

            “The law is
the law,” Minerva interrupted, looking down her nose at Modesty. “Dress up your
activities in whatever garb you like. At the end of the day, it is still
against the law under all of the make-up.”

            “So you’re
really going through with this?” Ash asked.

            “I wouldn’t
have made the trip here for any other reason. My co-counsel would not come to
deliver this message, so I had to.”

            “Your
co-counsel? You’re trying us?”

            “Along with
Jason Rapidfire, yes.”

            Ash stared
at Minerva in astonishment. Modesty recoiled from the bars in a shocked daze.
She was unable to believe her ears.

            “Jason…is
prosecuting me?”

            “I assure
you, it’s nothing personal, Missus Rapidfire.”

            “Nothing
personal? Jason is my husband! Why would he do this?”

            “It’s his
job.”

            “Can’t he
be excused?”

            “When you
have a queen on the board, why play with only pawns?”

            “But isn’t
this unethical?” asked Ash.

            “I’ve
cleared it with Administration and have been given the green light.”

            Ash turned
his head toward Modesty, who had slumped onto her bunk. She was breathing
heavily, trying fitfully to process everything she had heard. It was bad enough
to be humiliated with arrest while trying to stop Stahlmansche from carrying
out whatever wicked plans she had in mind. Now, though, she was looking at her
spouse of over three years being the one to throw the book at her and lock her
up forever. How could it be?

            “Jason…let
me talk to him,” she insisted. Minerva shook her head.

            “We’ll have
none of that. I want no hint of irregularity in this trial. Any attempt at
collusion will result in his disbarment and further charges brought against
you. Do you understand that?”

            The effect
of these words hit Ash and Modesty like a lead weight. The two Moderators were
silent. Ash managed to nod weakly. Minerva bowed and walked down the hall, out
of sight.

---

            “Oh, what
is the world coming to these days?” Georgia Stahlmansche sardonically lamented
as she approached her desk. Her heels clacked authoritatively against the
floor. She seemed to ignore almost entirely the young woman standing beside her
desk rigidly like an automaton. Georgia
sat at her desk and sighed theatrically. She looked at the young woman. She was
a tall, statuesque woman, with deep, blue eyes and long, dark tresses reaching
down her back. The young woman wore a navy blue business suit and had not so
much as a wrinkle to be found on it. Men would kill to be next to this buxom
beauty, though they would kill to be away from her if they knew her true
nature.

            Georgia
eyed her critically. The woman did not blink. It was not necessary. Georgia
could not help but allow a thin smile to creep onto her lips.

            “Espa, could
your thoughts be any louder?”

            The young
woman slowly turned only her head toward Georgia. There was a chilling
precision to her movement. Her eyes registered no comprehension of the remark.

            “I am not
certain of your meaning,” she said in a low, sweet voice.

            “I think
you do. So many thoughts are clicking in your mind right now. A mother always
knows.”

            Armada
General Espadrille, Espa for short, bitterly resented this. She had once read
that some ancient philosopher observed, “Only our thoughts are truly free.” It
was not so with Georgia Stahlmansche, who read Espadrille like a book all the
time. Little would have given Espadrille more pleasure than to be alone in her
own mind. Georgia
knew that, too.

            “I am
curious: what are you planning?”

            Georgia
yawned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

            “What I
mean is that the two infiltrators had a specific target: your personal files.
After my sisters let it leak that you were planning on obtaining materials and
technology that sustain the existence of the world itself, the Moderators came
here to obtain clear and convincing proof of your plotting.”

            Georgia
almost laughed at the absurdity of the scenario Espadrille described. “A fine
idea, indeed. What use have I for the technology of the Templars? What do I
need the Cosmic Icky-Sticks for? Those things are relics of the past, as are
the Administrators who guarded them. Ask any plebeian on the street what the
significance of Vortex’s Box is and he’ll return you a blank stare. Who
remembers the events of Apocalypse and Revival? The long and storied history of
this world is now little more than the dull text set in fragments of writings,
carefully preserved by librarians as dusty as the books they keep.”

            Espadrille
was content to let Georgia
prattle on in this fashion. Maybe she would say something explanatory in her
chatter.

            “Espa, in
the world of fiction, be it comic books or literature, there is a pervading
belief that the upright will be ultimately rewarded for their adherence to
certain societal norms and inflexible personal morals. Conversely, the wicked
are immoral heathens who unreasonably lust for power. Their lack of faith, for
want of a better word, condemns them to a dreadful punishment at the hands of
the righteous. What makes this pleasing to the average person is the manner in
which this transpires. Traditionally, the villain has a near-limitless amount
of resources at her disposal, and the hero is the underdog who perseveres and
triumphs despite the odds. It is all so nauseatingly passé. In this time and in
this place, however, a different story is being told.”

            Georgia rose from her chair and surveyed the Sega City
skyline by day. The bright sun gleamed off the glass high-rises in town.
Espadrille’s eyes followed Georgia’s
movement. The chief executive officer of Effective Cybertronics Unlimited stood
there with her hands on her hips for a moment before she turned her head over
her shoulder and smirked at Espadrille.

            “There
never was any plan to obtain the
technology or the Cosmic Icky-Sticks. Your sisters disseminated rumors to lure
those overweening Moderators into this trap of punishment by their own laws.”

            Georgia
was referring to two other Armada Generals when she spoke of Espadrille’s
sisters. Despite herself, Espadrille was impressed. It was a clever manoeuvre.

            “Watching
those dolts squirm under the hot gaze of their own interrogation light will be
gratifying, and that the prosecutor trying them is the best friend of the one
and the husband of the other makes this all the sweeter.”

            Espadrille’s
eyes started scanning the corners of the room. “Is it wise to divulge this
information so audibly? There could be unwanted ears listening.”

            “Listening
to what? There is no such crime as conspiracy to trap trespassers. Check your
databanks.”

            Espadrille
smarted from the comment. She did not mind that she was, in fact, a robot of Georgia’s
design and programming, at least most of the time. When Georgia reminded her of her
cybernetic existence, however, it always came across as a taunt.

            “You are
correct. The only statutes relevant to trespassing are that land owners owe, at
most, a duty of care against those dangers that are artificial in nature to
known trespassers,” Espadrille replied.

            Georgia turned back to face Sega City,
observing it from the same office into which Modesty and Ash had broken only
the night previous. “Law and order seems to work so well for the professedly
virtuous. Let us see how it works for the rest of us.”

---

            The next
day, Minerva Nomodike rapped on the heavy, oaken door to one of the personal
offices in the Office of Public Prosecutions. The nameplate on the door read
“J. Rapidfire, LLM”. Someone cleared her throat behind Minerva, who turned
around impatiently. Standing there was Jason’s secretary, a young woman named
Kelly.

            “Um, Mister
Rapidfire isn’t in yet,” Kelly said, looking slightly embarrassed.

            “He isn’t
in? It’s close to two-thirty in the afternoon! Where is he?”

            “He never
reported in, Miss Nomodike,” said Kelly, adjusting the black-framed glasses on
her nose. Minerva grunted in annoyance and said, “If he deigns to show his face
among us mortals, page me at once.”

            “Of course,
Miss Nomodike!” Kelly responded cheerfully, bowing her head respectfully.
Minerva strode away in a huff. About fifteen seconds elapsed before the door to
Jason’s office swung open from the inside and Jason stuck his head out
hesitantly.

            “Kelly,
you’re the best,” he said with a sigh of relief.

            Kelly
pulled her dark hair up into a ponytail and gave him a sweet smile. “Mister
Rapidfire, you know Miss Nomodike will flip her lid if she finds you here. I’ll
probably get fired, too.”

            “That is
not going to happen,” Jason said. “And stop calling me Mister Rapidfire.”

            “Why are
you hiding from her?” Kelly inquired.

            “Inevitably,
she’s going to drag me down to the prisons to chat up Ash and Modesty about a
plea bargain. Nothing turns my stomach more.”

            Kelly
tilted her head slightly and gave him a mildly disapproving look with her hands
akimbo. “You can’t run away from this. It’s going to have to happen
eventually.”

            “You can’t
run away from death either, but I don’t see most people careening headlong into
its embrace,” Jason sourly observed.

            “Oh Jason,
you’re so overdramatic,” the secretary said, shaking her head. Nonetheless, she
was smiling.

            “Hush up. I
just need to get the last of these files copied and then I’ll be gone like I
never was here. Which I wasn’t, officially.”

            Kelly took
a seat at the desk she had just outside of his office. “Jason, can I tell you
something, from the heart?”

            “Sounds
like a better starting place than something told from the lower intestine. Go
on.”

            “You’re a
fool, but a sweet-hearted, romantic one. I hope the man I marry is half as
dedicated to me as you are to your wife.”

            Jason
smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

            “I also
hope he’s filthy rich,” Kelly added.

            The
hedgehog lawyer rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh.”

            “By the
way, I figured you’ll want to have a copy of this, for when it’s all over.
You’ll probably have a good laugh out of it.”

            She reached
into her desk drawer and pulled out a copy of one of the local newspapers. She
tossed it to Jason, who caught the paper, read the front page, and wilted.

            “Oh, sod
these scumbag writers!” Jason snarled, resisting the urge to ball up the paper
between his paws. “The garbage they write isn’t worth the paper they print on.”

            Kelly
watched Jason disappear into his office again, and then emerge about a minute
later with a briefcase in his paw. Jason dropped the briefcase as he locked the
door of his office and then looked at her.

            “Do you
have everything you need?” she asked him.

            “I’ve
pulled all the files I can find that the OPP’s library has on ethics
violations, public official misconduct, trespassing, gross negligence, breaking
and entering…the whole lot. I’m going to go over all of this under a microscope
until I find a loophole just wide enough to squeeze Modesty and Ash through.”

            Kelly stood
up and threw her arms around the scarlet hedgehog to give him a quick hug. She
said, “I’ll be rooting for you, Jason.”

            Jason
returned the friendly embrace. “Thanks. That means a lot to me right now.”

            As Kelly
pulled away from him, she added, “And remember, even if things don’t work out
and your wife gets sent up the river, I’m single.”

            “Time to
go,” Jason said, suddenly the model of urgency as he grabbed his briefcase and
shot down the halls. As he went, he passed two large statues of former
Administrators flanking the doors. One was an orange fox and the other was a
red echidna. He mused to himself that they had gone now, much like the justice
he was meant to represent.

---

            The clear
winter sun shone brightly down on the blacktop of the prison playground: a
small, open space outside the actual building with a basketball court. It was
open only to the well-behaved inmates. Ash Fox and Modesty Rapidfire were two
such inmates, and, as such, were seated on the bleachers together, talking
quietly between themselves.

            “I don’t
remember the last time I was allowed recess,” Ash said, staring blankly at the
players on the blacktop.

            “I feel so
sick just being here,” Modesty said. Ash looked down at her.

            “What’s
wrong? Your stomach hurt?”

            She nodded.
The tall fox put a consoling paw on her shoulder.

            “Being
fair, I think the food here does that to all of us.”

            “No,”
Modesty said, wincing. “I mean…I feel like I’m ready to pass out.”

            Ash
frowned. “Do you know what’s troubling you? Apart from the obvious.”

            Modesty
lowered her head. Her chestnut brown bangs hung over her turquoise eyes. Ash
did notice that the normally vibrant woman was paler than usual. He tried to
offer some words of hope.

            “Modders,
hang in there. I’m sure Jase is working around the clock to spring us from
here.”

            Modesty
said nothing. A loud sniffle indicated to Ash that he had grazed over a sore
spot by mentioning Jason.

            “Look, I
know that it’s probably a nightmare to think about this sort of thing right
now, but we both know Jason. Actually, you know him better than I do. Do you really
believe he would be going out of his way to have you locked up forever in this
cage?”

            Modesty
looked up, a bitter grimace etched onto her teary-eyed face. “Ash, have you
ever worried you weren’t…I don’t know…making enough of yourself?”

            Surprised
by this sudden turn in the conversation, the grey fox scratched his thick mop
of head fur. “Can’t say that I have; not in any recent time, anyway. What makes
you ask that?”

            She looked
down at the ground ruefully. “Jason gets up five days out of the week and spends
long hours at the office. He comes home in the evening, optimistic but tired. I
can see it in his face, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. On days when he’s
been at trial, he comes home even later. The first thing he does is get to work
cooking dinner. I can’t cook a simple meal for him after he’s been so hard at
work all day.”

            Ash nodded,
recollecting many times in the past when Modesty had nearly destroyed whole
buildings in her disastrous efforts to cook. Modesty could not cook to save her
life, and oftentimes her attempts to cook endangered the lives of others.

            “What does
he see in me that makes him want to be with me so much? I’ve been asking myself
that question since we first started dating, and I’m never quite sure that I
have the answer. He used to chastise me a lot for doing things like this—you
know, secret missions, raids, special ops—but over time he relented. I guess he
got tired of me ignoring his pleas to stay out of trouble. I would always tell
him there was nothing to worry about. But now…now…”

            Her bottom
lip quivered. Ash gently patted her as tears streaked down the gentle slopes of
her cheeks. He tried to give her an anecdote to cheer up his friend and fellow
Moderator.

            “When Flair
and I first got married, it was kind of a shock adjusting to her being there.
It’s one thing to have a fling but something else to commit the rest of your
life to someone else. I honestly wasn’t sure if I was as ready for it as I
thought I was after the ceremony was over. Like you, I wondered what it was
that Flair liked about me so much that she’d walk down the aisle with me,
especially since she could easily have her pick of any man. I mean, she’s got
no trouble with money, she’s clever, and she’s easy on the eyes, I don’t mind
telling you.”

            Modesty
gave him a look that said she did not need to know this. Ash cleared his throat
and continued.

            “Thinking
about that made me feel like I needed to make extra sure I kept her happy. What
did I have that other blokes didn’t? I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to wake
up one day and find it was something fleeting. But you see, one morning as
we’re lying in bed, she curls up to me and says, ‘No one will ever love me like
you do.’ And like that, I understood it: what I had going for me—why she liked
me so much—is that I was always there for her, never faltering or flagging in
my love for her. I reflected on that for a while, and it occurred to me there’s
nothing like knowing the person you love is happy just to see you be there. Why
does Jason come home every day with a smile on his face, even if he’s had a
rough time of it in court? It’s ‘cos you’re there waiting for him.”

            Modesty’s
lips trembled and she started sobbing. Before Ash could say anything else, a
reedy voice said, “I hate to see dames cryin’. Wassamatta, sistah? You poutin’
over yer hubby on the outside?”

             Ash turned to look at a man in his thirties
standing near the bleachers. He had messy, blond hair hanging down close to his
jade eyes. An ugly tattoo crept along his right arm up to his neck. He had a
casual smirk on his face.

            “And you
are…?” asked Ash.

            “Eddie
Cartah. Been in heah for two years now. Seen a lot of dames like this, start
off tryin’ to put on a brave face, but soonah or latah, they break down with
the weepin’ and the tears and that whole mess. Sistah just needs a little
lovin’ to lift her spirits, amirite?”

            Ash eyed
this dubious fellow with no pretence of politeness. “I’m only going to ask you
this once, Mister Carter: kindly shove off.”

            “Ooh, I
like it,” Eddie said, feeling a need to flex his sizeable biceps. “Big, tall
guy gets all protective. Who doesn’t like a challenge?”

            “A
challenge?” Ash repeated in disgust.

            “Oh yeah.
Scorin’ is all the better when you get past the goalie.”

            Ash’s mouth
hung open. Eddie sat down beside Modesty and said, “Aw, stop your blubberin’,
little missy. Everything’ll get bettah now that I’m heah. Betcha after a day
with me, you’ll forget all about yer little wimpy husband. Probably some sort
of stale bread accountant or somethin’, right? The hot ones always wind up in
unhappy marriages like that.”

            Modesty
recoiled from Eddie. “My husband is not wimpy, buster. He’s a knight of greater
character than you’ll ever know!”

            Eddie
laughed. “That’s a good one! Next, you’ll tell me he’s a raccoon or somethin’.”

            “A
hedgehog, you’re so smart,” Modesty snapped. Eddie’s smirk faded. His eyes
glinted with something terrible rising to the surface of his personality.

            “Cripes,
you’re married to a freakin’ furry?”

            “What’s it
to you?”

            Eddie
looked positively baleful. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s those
little furry freaks, all wagging ears and tails, taking all our human girls for
themselves. Some breeds just shouldn’t mix.”

            “I beg your
pardon?” said a stunned Modesty.

            “I don’t
have a problem with furries as long as they stay in their own kind. But you
can’t walk down the street these days without seeing some human girl pushing
these little abominations in strollers. Half-human, half-beast, and all
hideous.”

            Modesty
glared at Eddie and was about to say something in retaliation, but she started
coughing. Eddie shook his head.

            “Listen,
sistah: tell you what. We’ll go to a corner of the playground and I’ll give you
somethin’ for that cough o’ yers. I bet you’d like a chest rub from a man and
not some creepy pet playin’ at bein’ a man.”

            A burst of
white light exploded in front of Eddie’s eyes. He was on the ground, dazed from
the sensational blow Ash had delivered to his cocky face. Ash towered over the
stricken man and growled, “You get the hell away from her. You understand me?”

            A whistle
tweeted loudly across the blacktop. Immediately, two guards grabbed Ash by his
arms and cuffed him. Modesty watched as the guards hauled the fox away and back
into the prison. Eddie sat up, a hand over his eye.

            “Told ya, sistah.
Furries…freaks of naycha. Bet you anythin’ yer precious pet is out findin’
himself another human girl to pounce on right now.”

            Another
whistle blew, this time twice in a row. It was the signal ending recess.
Modesty quickly put some space between Eddie and herself, now worried about
what was going to happen to Ash. She did not even want to consider the horrible
seed Eddie planted in her mind. Jason loved her with all his heart; he would
never stray.

            …right?

---

            The Usual Place was a
small nightclub in the heart of Sega
City. Unlike most
contemporaneous nightclubs that featured pulsing rave music and a general sense
of needing a shower after leaving, The Usual Place had a vintage Roaring
Twenties feel to it. The stock tunes were jazz and big band. A wooden dance
floor gave the perfect traction for swing dancing. A small stage allowed for
live, vocal and musical performances. Tiny, circular tables with miniature
lamps only large enough to accommodate two people prepared to be very close to
one another littered the space around the dance floor. Tiers of larger tables
jutted out from the high walls. Crystal
chandeliers with blue lights dangled gracefully from the ceiling. The fragrance
of dark coffee wafted through the air alongside the scent of mixed drinks.

            The Usual Place was not
far the penthouse in which Jason and Modesty lived, and so they often went
there for a night of dancing and carefree enjoyment. On this evening, however,
it was a place where Jason was hard at work, reviewing statutes and case law
fervently. His mind was firing like the cylinders of a car engine. He did not
process any of the other patrons’ chatter. He was only dully aware of the
singer on the stage whispering, “This girl was persuasive, this girl I could
not trust…the girl was bad. The girl was dangerous…”
He barely acknowledged the waitress who brought him a banana daiquiri. Jason
was so far from his temporal situation that when he looked up from one casebook
and noticed someone sitting across from him, it took several seconds for him to
process this.

            “Minerva?”
Jason asked, startled.

            “Thank you
for joining us,” Minerva said. Jason stared at her in wide-eyed surprise at her
presence.

            “What are
you doing here?” the hedgehog asked.

            “Honestly?
Wondering what you’re doing here.”

            Jason
glanced down at his casebooks and other, assorted files. He looked back at her.
“Reviewing for the Rapidfire/Fox case.”

            “I see
that. I trust you’re preparing our
case and not theirs.”

            Uncertain
if this merited any words, Jason remained silent. Minerva folded her hands
together on the small table and leaned forward to look him in the eye.

            “Jason, do
you resent being put on this case?”