FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Taluthus had escorted Whistler away from the plush carpeted reception halls and down a flight of bare metal stairs towards a large service lift that ran through the core of Pimlico Eternal. The large orange and black vulcanised fox was silent, arms folded, just watching Whistler quietly, his eyes occasionally darting to focus on the text scrolling over his visor. After a few minutes of silence the otter turned plain grey weasel robot spoke.

"So what happens next, am I allowed to ask where we are going?"

"Of course," Taluthus murmured lifting his visor, "I was just reviewing the crew roster to see what I need for OC-IS-Beta, we're off to the templating centre now."

"We are?" Whistler queried a frown creasing his forehead, "What about the other guy? Isn't he off to templating too?"

"I suspect as much yes, but he was a VIP new hire, you're a new member of my crew so we're going to the industrial template centre. I've got to rebuild you into something OC-IS-Beta needs."

Whistler's shoulders drooped at those words and he backed up a couple of steps, "What do you mean, rebuild? What does OC-IS-Beta even mean? What is going to happen to me?"

Chuckling softly Taluthus shook his head, "I am sure Con explained it to you, that body you are in is a stop-gap, a basic shape. We'll apply a template to you and build you a body that fits our needs. You've been assigned to my crew, Orbital Construction - Infrastructure Group Beta. So I am assigning you to a construction template. I need someone strong, I need someone who can shift heavy loads and compliment the tool wielders."

Shifting from foot to foot the rubbery weasel rubbed a hand against his muzzle, "Great... so ah... what's a tool wiedler?"

Taluthus held up one of his hands, the orange plates retracted back up around his wrist leaving the black rubberised hand bare. Removing an object from his belt the fox slid the socketed item down over his fingers and new orange plates deployed around his wrist locking it in place. It was a series of screwdrivers, wrench attachments and other specialised tools, "We're the tools, it's what we're built for, living bodies capable of performing any task required," he moved his hand arm and the tool attachment shifted and twisted around his wrist, the central tool rotating out, "It's just socketed onto my hand, claws plug in and now I can select which tool I need with ease, same goes for my tail."

Whistler noticed Taluthus' tail was also changing, the orange plates were rearranging themselves into a tiered pyramid shape with serrated edges at each level. It glowed with a faint blue energy and span up slowly as the fox grinned at Whistler, "This is hardcoded to my tail plates, my tail can be a drill but all the smaller tools just socket onto my hands."

The fox then held up one foot showing off the exhausts in the bottom, "I have in-built gas jets as well, feet, lower back and shoulders and hands, so I can maneuver in zero-g. You'll get something similar as well Whistler, I'm afraid your old life is over and done with, you're gonna be working construction now."

Whistler whined, his ears tilting backwards as the large fox unplugged the tool from his hand and fixed it back onto his belt. Looming over him Taluthus grinned softly at the uncomfortable way his newest team member was squirming. The lift then jerked and the doors slide open and the fox pushed Whislter ahead of him out into the plain cement corridor outside.

"Come along, let's get you templated and then we can return to orbit after I finish your orientation."

"Orbit... I'm going into space?" Whistler shouted as he trotted along to keep up with the big fox's stride, "I can't work in space!"

Pushing open a metal door Taluthus coiled his arm around the mustelid's waist, "Of course you can stupid, you're a vulcanized automata now. You don't need to breathe and I'm about to give you the full zero-g package."

The fox's dragged Whistler along after him as he stalked through the large chamber beyond the door. The walls were smooth, some sort of vulcanized alloy, the floor was a tactile rubber mat and standing in two rows of 20 down each side of the room where large devices. They looked very industrial, a variety of tanks, cylinders and strip-pipes connected to blocky looking machines of rubber infused metal alloys and a large crystal containment vessel. It was square and had several pipes attached to ports along its length and no visible opening.

Looking from left to right Whistler could see some of them were occupied, Vulcan automata, fellow sentient creatures in the process of being transformed. Some of them where base forms like Whistler's, others were already specialized and being changed into something else. As he was dragged along by the indomitable and stupidly strong Taluthus he was able to see a couple of the machines start the process and it made him squirm uncomfortably.

"I can walk you know... uhm... this all looks a bit intense, you ... uhm can't I do this later? I mean I've only just been changed I've had no time to adapt to this body."

"Good," Taluthus muttered as he stopped before an empty machine and lifted his visor, "I want you to acclimatize to your actual work form not that basic shape," pressing his hand to a scanner the fox wriggled his fingers and the crystal box opened, "So in you go."

Whistler stumbled forwards and bounced off the far side of the chamber. By the time he regained his balance and turned around the glass wall had shut and he was trapped inside. Wide eyed and a bit terrified he looked around in alarm then squeaked as a point of green light stabbed out of the top of the box and focussed on the crystal set into his collar bone.

"What is happening, please can't we talk about this..." he trailed off as text suddenly appeared inside his eyes, it was overlaid across his vision and scrolled past.

"CPU-Assist Crystal Remote Connection Made - Employee WU-456-987 recognized, template request pending from T-S-127-765, Overseer Unit and Orientation Officer for work crew OC-IS-Beta."

"Ah what is it doing, what's going on!"

Taluthus thumped the glass and shook his head, "Calm down mate, seriously, it's all pretty normal, you're in no danger it's just gonna make you into something useful!"

"Preparing Unit for upgrade," Whistler squeaked as his limbs stopped responding, he found himself spreading his legs, holding his arms out to either side and then freezing in place, "Immobilising Motor-Cortex, wi-fi communication channel opened, user list, T-S-127-765, Template Module Terra-016" Whistler felt a very uncomfortable sensation flow through his body as all his vulcanized muscles and joints froze. He then got to watch as a segmented arm deployed from the ceiling and fitted a snug diamond shaped probe across the crystal in his chest.

"Hard-Connection Made, Employee WU-456-987 prepared for upgrade, referring request to Administrator Level."

OC-IS-Beta: Unit-WU: "What's happening," Whistler shouted, his lips didn't move but his words were projected through the wi-fi antennae in his ears into the chat-room the computer had opened inside his head. It was weird, he understood he had transmitted words and when Taluthus replied his words appeared in his brain as, a memory tagged at the start with a unique identifier.

OC-IS-Beta: Overseer TS: "It's preparing you for templating, it won't be long, I've sent in my request and it is just mulling it over to see if what I want matches what it thinks we need."

TMT-016: "Request is pending, Administrator query logged, awaiting reply... reply incoming. Template selection error, Administrator override logged. Requested template Wolverine does not meet OC-IS-Beta's strength requirements, selection in process."

OC-IS-Beta: Unit-WU: "What does that mean, tell me, that doesn't sound good to me!"

OC-IS-Beta: Overseer TS: "It means the Administrator thinks my crew needs something with a bit more muscle and punch then a wolverine. Looks like your species is going to be re-assigned entirely. I wonder what it is going to give me?"

OC-IS-Beta: Unit-WU: "You fucking tin-pot, I don't want to be a wolverine let alone something else, I'm a purple otter not a rubber freak!"

OC-IS-Beta: Overseer TS: "What makes you think you get a say in this Whistler? You're a convict, worse you're an indentured labourer, VA purchased your work contract, you belong to them for the next thirty five years. If they decide to turn you into a slug and send you crawling through sewer pipes then you best say "Thank you sir" and get on with it."

Whistler was speechless, the true nature of his situation hadn't really been hammered home before. Taluthus had done so with brutal honesty and as the former otter stood there, immobile and awaiting his fate he realised there was nothing he could do. Then the voice of the template machine spoke up again and everything started to happen.

TMT-016: "Template Selected, colour preference selected from employee WU-456-987's memories, deploying in 3... 2... 1..."

Something deployed right in front of Whistler's inert nose, the segmented arm attached to his CPU-Assist crystal had a long tube attached to it and a some sort of gelatinous gloop oozed out of the end of it. It hung in mid air just above his muzzle, rippling slightly and forming into a liquid sphere, suspended somehow against all the laws of physics. It then rippled, golden brown hues draining out, leaving it a smooth, shiny shade of silver rubber before purple and green colours spread across the surface. The liquid shape seemed to fold in on itself, rippling and oozing yet remaining a sphere, it was like there were currents stirring the mass yet somehow it retained its shape.

After a few seconds it had changed colour completely and then it oozed forwards through the air and splattered across Whistler's muzzle. It flowed like melting putty, thick yet liquid, oozing across his shiny rubber skin and sinking down through the fibre of his being. The inside of the tank he was held in turned opaque then mirrored so he could see himself as the strange sphere of liquid spread across his body. It engulfed him from head to toes, from tail tip to claws, a skin tight layer of purple and green liquid that rippled and oozed and shifted around his body.

TMT-016: "Template deployed, initiating change, warning visual, audio and tactile systems may experience interruption during upgrade process. Please do not be alarmed."

It began in earnest then, Whistler's body went numb, he stopped being able to feel anything, all he could do was see. What he was seeing was scary, the purple goop was squeezing against his body, shifting, flowing and changing him.

There was no pain, he was mentally hunched over for the oncoming pain but there was none. Several more tubes deployed out of the floor, burrowing into his calves, his shoulders and the base of his spine. They swiftly flooded with a silvery material that glistened and flowed into his body. He got to watch then as his synthetic muscles started to flex and twist in strange manners. They were unravelling from his arms as the plating that gave him form and definition melted into the purple goop covering him. His whole body was being changed, he couldn't feel anything but just watching himself in the mirror he could see he was growing taller, short stumpy mustelid legs were being replaced by longer, heavier limbs. His feet were growing larger to compensate and now ended in three rounded toes whilst his torso was broadening, thick layers of high density synthetic muscle was crawling over his stomach, chest and broadening shoulders. Beneath the layer of purple and green gloop he couldn't really see many details, just broad outlines so he couldn't tell what he was being turned into and the stupid machine didn't seem inclined to share.

His arms were long, thick and his hands were growing in density as the rubber-nanites covering his body directed the flow of foundation catalyst to change him into what was required. New solid plates were beginning to take shape over his chest, along his arms, bracketing and anchoring the new muscles as they twitched and shifted into position. His tail was doing something behind his body but he couldn't really make it out, it was just a twisting, snake like nest of purple goo right now with streaks of green racing along it.

TMT-016: "Frame modifications now at 70%, internal adjustments complete, beginning cranial re-alignment."

The words caught Whistler off guard, he'd been standing there silently watching his body being re-organised. He'd zoned out, it was as if time didn't matter and he'd lost track of time. Worse he had no reference for time, had it been five minutes or five hours? He couldn't seem to bring up any sort of visual overlay right now and his vision started to waver and break up as his head began to change! His nose grew big and broad and flat to match his new muzzle, short, broad and sweeping back in a graceful curve past his narrow feline eyes. Huge, rounded ears were forming atop his head and mixed all around, top, sides, across his neck were a multitude of curving pipes. The same was happening to the base of his tail, it was growing a series of pipes, one long thick one in the middle surrounded by concentric circles, each layer a smaller outlet than the one before. It formed a sort of tear-drop on the end of a thick, muscular tail that was long yet a uniform thickness all the way along.

The purple goo coating his body was starting to soak in, the tubes pumping foundation withdrew and the colours began to separate. His muscle layers were black, heavily defined, compact yet somehow different from those he had as a basic mustelid. The plates covering his torso, thighs, arms and head were smooth fluid and vulcanised purple metal. The massive cluster of pipes that formed his proud leonine mane and tail tip assemble where bright green. The long curving pipes seemed to point in every direction not just forwards, back side to side. There were pipes pointing in every conceivable direction, at least two on either side of his head. They curved up out of a cluster of green tanks nestled against the back of his neck and shoulders forming a wild, crazy mane just like a lion would have. Whistler didn't' know what to try and say or do, text had started to re-appear across the inside of his eyes which were now a bright vivid green that matched the crystal still embedded where his collarbone should have been.

He was over eight feet tall, he had broad, heavy shoulders, long, powerful legs, a lion's tail complete with tufted tip. His ankles and shins were surrounded by heavy purple plating and green tubes that blended into his big feline feet. His lower legs however where more corded black synthetic muscle fibre, every other automata he had seen had their lower body encased in body plating entirely. His body however had barely any plating except along the sides of his torso and across his chest. From the neck down he was mostly smooth, sleek black synthetic muscle. Flexible, strong, durable and well ripped. He was huge, he was a cat but at least it had kept his natural colours, purple and green were a good mix. What was more intriguing was the knowledge just floating into his mind, he knew what his duty was, what his body was capable of. The pipe system around his head, tail and ankles were all xenon-powered thrusters for zero-g maneuvering. His muscles looked odd because they doubled as photovoltaic panels to power the xenon generator now built into the core of his torso. It had been uploaded into his brain, sequenced into his thoughts, it felt as natural as breathing and pooping once had. Not that he could use any of his new abilities, he was still locked in place, the computer plugged directly into his crystal.

TMT-016: "Template Application now at 100%, initiating system check."

This caused new text to scroll over his eyes and his body to react to each one.

"Testing high strength metal frames, testing locking systems,"

His arms swung forwards and then froze in place, diagnostic images in his eyes showed the joints physically locking as pivots and locking bars rotated into position. His arms could be frozen in place to carry and transport material, this would reduce the strain on his muscles by offloading the weight of what he was carrying to the inactive alloys in his arms. He repeated the test with his legs, sitting down with his legs thrust out before him, joints locking in place, effectively making him one big cargo lifter for attaching to big bulky objects then flying them about.

"System Diagnostic dense rubber grips and magnetic contacts,"

His limbs unlocked though his body remained sitting, the pads on his hands and feet swelled suddenly, inflating and then stiffening into large rubber pads. Perfect for absorbing shocks and creating a larger surface area. His fingers and toes also disjointed, deploying long, electro-magnetic contacts instead of claws that would adhere payloads to his body until he was done moving them. The rubber grips also had the added benefit of making whatever he attached to a part of his body, he could essentially shift and lift items without worrying about points of leverage. This would allow him to tackle objects from any angle.

"Initiating test of slow twitch synth muscle tissues,"

Clambering back to his feet Whistler spread his arms and felt every single muscle in his body twitch and shift and flow. The long, photovoltaic strips of dense muscle tissue rippled and flexed and twitched through a powerful routine. He was strong, he had more lifting and carrying capacity than the standard synthetic muscles most vulcan automata had installed. The muscle beneath his new smooth purple head were the same, regular sort that allowed him to smile but all of the major muscle groups involved in shifting heavy loads had been replaced. It was denser, stronger and used less energy as well and now his frame was 70% dark dense muscle with very little purple plating covering him to give him maximum lift capacity.

"Photovoltaic shell test..."

A diagram of his body deployed in his vision, it cycled through a series of tests, showing energy accumulation from the coating woven into the fibres of his body. It then ran through a series of tests demonstrating the capacity of his batteries and power system.

"Xeno fuelled maneuvering system test, initiated,"

"First test - xenon catalytic reactor."

The final test left Whistler feeling somewhat in awe of Vulcan automata, the template chamber was drained of its atmosphere and then gravity was switched off! He was left floating in the middle of the chamber, held in place by the armature attached to his crystal. His xenon reactor then spun up and using the photovoltaic coating began to synthesize xenon, after running the test and producing enough gas to fill his main tanks to 5% of maximum capacity it declared the test a success. It had taken fifteen minutes to produce that much fuel. Whistler was then hooked into a larger power conduit which plugged into a port between his shoulder blades. The increased energy flow sped up production and all his tanks were reading 100% within two hours, filled from empty that was pretty speedy.

"Maneuvering Jet test initialized"

With those words Whistler found himself drifting from side to side as small puffs of xenon gas under high pressure hissed out of each pipe. First his feet boosters on low power, then his tail to demonstrate maneuverability and finally the jets that made up his mane. His neck muscles locked in place and he could use them to accelerate in different directions as desired.

"Test complete, returning control to unit."

Gravity returned, air hissed into the chamber to equalize pressure and the glass wall opened revealing Taluthus waiting. The orange fox smirked and looked the lion up and down, "Man they made you useful, OK then one last test..." he then transmitted something at the general AI and text flickered across Whistler's mind.

"Indentured Convict full restrictor example approved, WU-456-987 mental restrictor sent to maximum. Control devolved to C-IS-Beta: Overseer TS."

"What..." Whistler vocalised but then lost the plot as a strange lethargy flooded his mind, the outside world grew dim and hazy and then seemed to fuzz over entirely. The world, reality was a grey haze, time had no meaning, there was no input or sensations, everything was just a happy, timeless void. Then it all rushed back, he could see the outside world but not interact with it properly. It was like he was asleep and yet not, though he couldn't really focus or think or see or do just... stare dumbly at the outside world moving past. He was walking along, moving without any conscious control, just a passenger watching, observing and not quite able to connect emotionally to what he was experiencing.

"Restrictor Program Terminated - Returning WU-456-987 to full operational control."

Whistler blinked and looked around in alarm, he was elsewhere, it looked like a small cargo shuttle. There were racks of equipment and from the g-forces pushing against his frame they were under acceleration. It also appeared as if five hours had passed and he was holding a large equipment crate in his hands. His legs were locked in place and his body braced against the forces acting on it. Taluthus was standing about a foot away, feet planted squarely as he watched the lion come back to himself.

"Welcome back Whistler, that was the full restrictor, just incase you harboured any silly thoughts about rebellion or bad behaviour. You belong to Vulcan Automata now, until your sentence is worked off you work for them," he smirked wickedly, "If you don't toe the line and behave the AI could decide to put your free will and mind to sleep until you work out your sentence."

"They can't do that," Whistler whispered, putting the box down carefully, "I... they can't can they?"

"Yes they can, oh every use of the restrictor has to be reviewed by the AI and a judge but I've never heard of the company losing an argument. After all you hardly get to present your case and they tend to only do it to people who are ridiculously violent or won't change their behaviour."

"I'll be good... please... I promise I'll be good!"

"I thought you might get the point, I had to talk the AI into letting us demonstrate the restrictor. But it gets the point home, now then sit back and enjoy the ride, get your visor out of the crate and have a look at the view. You may as well enjoy the ride now you're here and on side."

Nodding the lion opened the crate he had been carrying and pulled out a Very Necessary Visual Interface and slipped it over his eyes. It looked like he'd have to adapt as he went along, this was going to be one hell of a ride.

End Part 5: