Work The Problem Ch. 06

PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Morillo nodded. "They fell together, they should keep each other company in Valhalla."

Nobody else spoke up; there was just a general nodding of agreement. Forrester smiled a little. "Okay! That's settled, then. Now there's apparently going to be a ceremony and a lot of speechifying during the thing, so I want you all there and looking sharp, like a credit to yer species."

__________________________________________________________

Ned followed the soldiers down the stone steps into the glade. "This is a cemetery?" he asked. "There's no headstones." It looked more like a large and secluded park.

Holly nodded and gestured at the lush greenery and bright flowers that surrounded them. "There are no coffins here. Everything returns to the earth, and the plants are literally part of those who are buried here. We believe that is a better way to remember them."

There was one stone near the entrance, a huge granite block the size of a billboard. On it was chiseled a long list of the names of those buried in this place. There were a few that were clearly the newest additions, and at the very end were etched the names of both Lieutenant Jenkins and Private Wilson. Sergeant Forrester walked up to the slab and traced one thick finger over the names of his fallen comrades. Marigold and Arabella were flanking him, and each hugged his side as he did so. Cal then moved his finger up to trace over the newly-etched name of First-Paw Glenn Fletcher. The sergeant turned back and looked out over the peaceful park beyond. The sun shone through the trees surrounding the place, casting golden rays over the profusion of flowers that filled in the spaces between the gently winding walking-paths.

"Yeah, the L.T. will like it here," he said in a hoarse voice. He one-arm-hugged each of the lagomorphs by his side, who returned his hug with fervor.

Further into the glade was the newly turned earth that held the honored dead. There was a large group of lagomorphs dressed in their very best, along with all of the human soldiers. The latter were lined up in neat rows and standing at attention.

Yuri was there as well. The Russian stood apart a little from the others with a composed expression.

There was a great many of their hosts who decided to make speeches. Many of them were quite flowery and boring to Ned's ears. To his credit, Mayor Lightfoot kept his own short and sweet.

"I know there have been some fears raised about our guests," said the chubby rabbit-person. He glanced over at Bunce, who stood a little ways away while leaning on his cane. "But make no mistake. If not for the timely intervention of our new friends we would right now at best be enslaved, or perhaps a new food supply. Our own mythology speaks of an evil entity that brought into this world the horror of feeding upon one's brethren. I submit that those invaders were the true embodiment of the spirit of Karaelanga, and that all they had to offer was pain and death." He gestured with a paw at the assembled humans. "We owe much to these strangers, especially those who fell in defending us. We can only hope that our land will give them the gentle rest that they so richly deserve."

Sergeant Forrester was then called up to also give a speech. For once he looked completely out of his element, but he rallied and faced the assembled dignitaries with a stoic expression. "I can't claim to be a brave man. First-Paw Glenn Fletcher, he was brave. We didn't have time to argue or plan, we just looked at each other and I knew that he was going to do what needed to be done. And Lieutenant Keith Jenkins was one of the finest men it's been my privilege to serve under. Compared to the people buried here, I'm not really a hero. But I will do my best, both now and in the future. You have shown us great affection, and we won't forget it."

The sergeant held out a hand, and Corporal Morillo handed him a small book bound in black leather. He opened it to a bookmarked page and gave them all a little smile. "We monkey-boys have a lot more religions than you, and one of them uses this book as its primary source. There's a few verses in it that always help me in times like this."

Cal Forrester began to read in a clear voice that carried out over the quiet crowd.

"Behold, I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed. In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.

For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed.

For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality.

When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:

"Death is swallowed up in victory."

"O death, where is thy victory?

"O death, where is thy sting?"

__________________________________________________________

"The sergeant was very well spoken," said Tavia Hedgehopper. The mayor looked down at her clenched paws and tried to wonder what she would be feeling right now if so many militia had fallen during her term.

Bunce leaned forward. They were in the back of the limousine transporting the VIPs from the funeral. "Of course. That is the danger they pose. These predators are more cunning than the terror-birds that attacked us. They know how to seem reasonable and 'interesting'. But that makes them even more dangerous."

"We've followed the traditions," protested Tavia. "They're guests! We can't just...you know."

Bunce nodded. "I understand your reluctance. But what does tradition matter, in times like these?"

Tavia looked up at him. "And what do we tell our own people? They view these newcomers as our saviors." She knew that the sly old bastard would have an answer.

"We won't have to 'tell' them anything. The only thing we'll have to do is insist that some of our own militia take part in guarding the portal areas. That will get enough of our own people on the ground here, people that we've selected. And then we just need to wait. These predators will slip, sooner or later. They'll show their true colors. They won't be able to help themselves." The older rabbit leaned back. "And then we will be ready to take advantage of the situation."

Tavia dropped her gaze and stared at her feet while her guts churned with worry.

Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
12 Comments
oldpantythiefoldpantythiefover 1 year ago

Makes me want to go out and get me my own little fuzzy bunny to fuck... Na, that wouldn't work. NCOs don't get saluted.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 years ago

determined to "hug the sad" out of her. funniest shit I have ever heard

anubeloreanubeloreabout 2 years ago

Okay, Cal might've been okay with the orgy, but then the little dumbshit corporal went and saluted a motherfuckin SFC, and they're all gonna fuckin die now. (based on his responsibilities, as the senior NCO on the base where Holly is/was, and the fact that they're *army* Cal is at *least* a Sergeant First Class. First Sergeant is possible, MSG isn't unlikely...but he's absolutely *not* some "buck" E5 Sergeant.) "Does he look like some useless, clueless, overbred, soft-handed little butterbar?! Damn it, he *works* for a living!"

|

No corporal would *ever* salute *any* NCO, at least in the *real* military...Air Force...well they're weird. (They sometimes salute NCO's in "training" because after basic, everydamnbody they meet is gonna be some flavor of commissioned officer, and they've gotta learn to genuflect properly...lol) the corp and his buddy should have snapped into "parade rest" (or even "attention" then parade rest if they felt all fancy and shit) and greeted their 1SG (sorry, 1SG just sounds right)...no salutes.

RavedThradRavedThradalmost 6 years ago
Bunnies with swords?

If that's how the bunny people react to Bugs and Daffy, I wonder how they'd react to Usagi Yojimbo.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 6 years ago
"SLAP"-ing Raptor armor

The big problem the defenders have is that the "Raptors" have much tougher armor, vehicular grade really. The bottleneck of the portal only compounds the problems of transporting anti-armor munitions. However, a good stopgap to that would be SLAP rounds. SLAP(Saboted Light Armor Penetrator) rounds are basically small-arms grade versions of the obsolete APDS(Armor Piercing, Discarding Sabot) rounds used by tanks, and are available in 7.62mm and 12.7mm/.50 caliber, among others. SLAP rounds are made to take down lightly armored aircraft and vehicles, so they stand a better chance of working. They work by using a narrow projectile(Usually made of tungsten) in a polymer sabot that falls away after being fired, concentrating the force into a projectile smaller than the barrel for maximum impact and penetration. Of course, this would mean swapping out or reconfiguring most of the American weapons, which I presume still use the American standard 5.56 NATO round. The good-guys' armor is basically useless except as anti-shrapnel protection for now, but can be made lighter and more flexible by treating Kevlar with STF(Shear Thickening Fluid). Standard kevlar needs 20-40 layers to stop bullets, but treated kevlar would only require 6-14 layers to equal that.

-RWPC

Show More
Share this Story

READ MORE OF THIS SERIES

Similar Stories

The Missing Dragon An elusive fire breathing monster leads him to a new world.in Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Endangered Ch. 01 A young dragon awakens.in Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Home for Horny Monsters Ch. 001 Mike inherits an old house. There's a nymph in the tub!in NonHuman
Willing Slave, Unwilling Master What do you do when you’re given a person as a gift?in Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Date with a Drifter Matt hits it off with a biker, but she has a dark secret.in Erotic Horror
More Stories