FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 4. The plot thickens. Dun dun duuuun.

And a general thanks to everyone who's given good reviews so far. Heh, I'm always a harsh critic of myself. Usually for me to hit 2 pages in Word I'm doing good. Not counting the optional chapter, I'm at 25, and while I'm loading 4 here, I'm already writing 5. (I just hit a REALLY good point to stop 4.)

Enjoy:

__________

AEA. Advanced Exoskeleton Armor, designed to protect it's wearer from harsh environments, with optional attachments to contain full life support. The structure could support up to 1500 pounds before buckling, and take localized impacts of more than 1000 pounds for force. Unlike early exoskeleton armors, this model also contained motion activated hydraulics, which would serve to augment the wearer's physical strength.

The weight of the armor requires wearers to have exceptional strength, as such it is usually only produced for minotaurs. On occasion one can obtain a modified suit fitted for a larger member of another species.

The predominate down side to AEA, aside from the obvious amount of training required to be able to function in such armor, is the resistance the wearer feels to his movements. Motions will be sluggish and the wearer will be unable to move evasively. As such AEA is not recommended for solo combat.

And given the design, Nathan could easily understand why. So he dug his note book out of his bag and began scrawling notes and making sketches, as well as copying schematics from the tech manual. Maybe this whole future-technology thing isn't really beyond my grasp. He thought to himself.

In this manner several hours passed, Nathan looking for ways to reduce the limitations without sacrificing strength.

The door hissed open, admitting Tiera. She casually stripped out of her uniform, tossing it in to the ever expanding pile. She watched Nathan for a moment, so engrossed in his work that he hadn't noticed her come in. "What did Aerix want?"

Nathan looked up, slightly startled. "How did you .."

"Wolf." She answered before he finished asking. "Keen sense of smell."

Nathan nodded. "And why are you .."

"Because," she cut him off, "It's more comfortable than my uniform."

Nathan nodded again. "Makes sense. I'm going to guess then that nudity doesn't hold the same stigma that it did in the 21st century?"

"Right." Tiera nodded. "In modern times, clothes are for fashion or function. My uniform is light impact armor, so it has to be covering. Around here most will be wearing their uniforms, because there really isn't much non-military personnel aboard.

"In more residential populations, clothing is worn based on your job, your status, and your personal tastes. A heavy equipment operator, if male at least, will always wear shorts or pants at a minimum. A mother taking her pups shopping may not wear anything that covers the body, but will likely have a large number of pockets. Those of wealth will often wear flashy clothes made of natural fibers, simply because they are expensive.

"Also, those with abnormal anatomies often will wear clothes to cover up that fact."

"'Abnormal anatomies'?" Nathan gave her a puzzled look.

"When the marketing started, the companies did research on what would be their largest buyers." Tiera explained, "Furries, or people who had an overly high attraction to anthropomorphic animals, who were also well known for being exceptionally sexually deviant.

"Furries often found the idea of males with multiple penises, hermaphrodites, creatures with prehensile penises and the like to be most desirable. There were also others, most of them though were impossible like a penis that was as big as a person, the heart couldn't give it enough blood.

"Anyways, the companies produced such things, and that genetic coding ended up in the gene pool, so sometimes throwbacks occur, but they aren't common. More common than they were in humans, though."

Nathan gave her an odd look. "Creepy."

"Yeah." Tiera nodded. "And you never did tell me what Aerix wanted."

"Nothing important." Nathan shrugged. "Just threatened to kill me."

Tiera shook her head, chuckling. "Yeah, sure. And I am the queen of Uranus."

"In 500 years, Uranus is still the butt of all the jokes." Nathan sighed, noticeably pronouncing 'Uranus' properly.

Tiera grinned. "Yep. So, what did he want?"

"You are going to keep pestering me until I tell you, aren't you?" Nathan asked.

"Yep."

"Fine. He said 'If you hurt Tiera, I'll kill you'." Nathan said, slightly irked. "Happy now?"

Tiera mumbled something incoherent, then found a subject change. "A message came for you today."

"Eh? For me?" Nathan looked at her, surprised.

"Yeah, that was my reaction." Tiera grabbed her uniform, and after searching the pockets of three different suits, found the disk. "Here we are. Kit didn't say who it came from, so.. I guess we find out?"

Tiera flopped in to her computer chair and plugged the disk in to a slot on her desk. Two quick keystrokes brought the display.

The screen showed an older lion, rather over weight. He looked like the friendly sort, smiling as he talked. "Greetings, Mr. Ericson. My name is Alphonse, but I'm better known as Uncle Bob. I own and operate a museum of sorts. A collection of items from before the war. Many of the items in my possession are from your time, or before.

"As such, I have been seeking someone with knowledge of such items to help with the museum, be it making damaged items function or correcting misinformation about the uses of items.

"To date we have only been able to get aid from local historians, and researching the programs over the Net. When we heard that someone from that era had survived in Cryogenic Stasis, we agreed that you would be the best source of information.

"If you are interested in this position, please send a reply to Uncle Bob's Old World Curiosities, and we can arrange a meeting to discuss the details."

"Uncle Bob?" Nathan shook his head and laughed. "Okay, you people are as screwed up as we were."

Tiera looked at him funny. "What? I've always wanted to go there."

"... Why?"

"You hadn't figured it out by now?" Tiera asked. "I figured at least my book collection would give it away. I'm fascinated by the 20th and 21st century. That's why I was assigned to you, I knew more about your era and culture than anyone else, and I knew better where to research anything else needed.

"As soon as we caught sight of your ship, I was called in. After finding her designation, I pulled up the technical specifications, crew roster, mission overview, and the obituaries of the entire crew. Beyond that I was able to find details on most of the crew, including you. Such as your family, your work history, education etc."

"Kinda creepy that you know so much about me." Nathan said with a smirk.

"Well, you have been dead for 400 years," She replied, "and you are something of a historical figure."

"True."

"So, what about that job?" Tiera asked.

"I'm not sure." Nathan shrugged. "But, maybe I can arrange to talk to this 'Uncle

Bob', at his museum that way you can come see it."

Nathan was caught off guard as Tiera pounced on him, hugging him. "You'd do that for me?" She sounded like an over eager kid told they were going to Disney World.

"Of course I will." Nathan smiled. For a moment he just enjoyed the warmth of her body pressed against him, a faint flowery fragrance caught his nose. Her shampoo he assumed. "... So, where is it, anyways?"

"Lunar surface." Tiera answered. "I'll arrange transportation and leave, and tell you when we will be able to be there."

Nathan nodded slightly.

Tiera realized the position she was in and quickly sat up, looking rather embarrassed. "Erf. Sorry..."

"It's fine." Nathan said, grinning. "You're warm."

Tiera blushed faintly, looking away. Her eyes found Nathan's not book. A convenient change of subject. "What are you working on here?"

"Nothing important." Nathan shrugged. "Just poking the design for the Advanced Exoskeleton Armor, seeing what I can do with it."

"You can actually understand the tech manuals?" Tiera asked, sounding rather surprised. "No one bothers reading them. They give me a headache."

"Tiera, I'm a mechanic. I understand these things." Nathan pointed a couple of things out on the schematics. "The problem with their design is that the wearer has to exert a large amount of strength to overcome the resistance of the hydraulics. If it were done with cables, you could have it move fluidly with the wearer, using the same idea as a motion capture system they used in 21st century computer animation. The cables would work in the same fashion as muscles."

Nathan continued to explain a theoretic design for powered armor, as well as the quirks he needed to work out of it. But Tiera stopped paying attention, technicians were all alike, get them started on a subject and they will ramble incessantly, despite the fact that the person they're talking to doesn't have a clue what they're saying, and doesn't care either.

* * *

The warden was pacing his office, going over the list of prisoners and guards killed in the riots. Everyone was sent to Phobos to die, even the guards. Even him. But he cared for his men. He hated it when he had to unleash Plissken, hated sending so many prisoners to their deaths. But it was them, or his men.

He dropped in to his desk chair with a sigh and started to fill out the forms to request additional guards. He lost 20 in the riot, and he was already understaffed. Oh well, 2 more years until I retire. He thought as he worked. He was looking forward to retiring, maybe on Europa.

His com screen flicked on, interrupting his work. "Warden Korin, it's been a while."

The warden glanced at the screen and suppressed a growl, though he couldn't hide the distaste in his voice. "Admiral Darkmoon, nice to see you."

"Enough with the pleasantries." The Admiral said. "I don't like you and you don't like me. We know this, so let's just get to the business at hand."

"Very well, sir. You called to issue particularly unpleasant orders personally?" The warden asked, wondering what was in store for him this time.

"No, not an order. A request." The Admiral said. "It can't be on the records. So, you could say I am asking you for a favor, which I fully intend to make worth your while."

"You want me to do you a favor?" The warden laughed. "When hell freezes over."

"You might want to check the weather there then. I am prepared to offer you the men and equipment you need if you do this for me."

That peaked the wardens interest. "What do you need?"

"One of your prisoners to vanish from the records."

"Easy to do." The warden said. "I just had a riot, can just report them killed. Who is it?"

"His name is Plissken, he's a snake. Been there longer than you have been alive, probably one of the worst you have." The Admiral said. "I don't need him dead though. I want him released."

The warden stared in disbelief, speechless.

"I have need of skills such as his." The Admiral continued, "It's no concern of yours though, all you need to do is pass information on to him, and let me know his, and your answer. If you do it, I will ensure you get the proper men and equipment for your job."

"How do you know I won't say I'll do it, and then not?" The warden asked.

"Because I know you are too honest to do that. Just copy the file I am sending to disk, and give it to him." The Admiral said, "And, let me know as soon as he answers." The screen went dark, leaving the Warden alone to consider the Admirals offer, and how heavily the release of Plissken would weigh on his conscience.

* * *

Toel quietly walked in to the study, pausing for a moment to examine the chessboard, he pondered his move, knowing well that his father would instantly find any hole he left. His mind wandered, he let his imagination run wild for a moment.

For that moment in time, he saw not a chessboard with glass figures, but a small pitched battle, armies clashing while their kings sat on opposite sides of the field, sipping tea and making small talk with the queen. And all of this was happening with Beethoven's 5th in the background.

"Daydreaming again?" Toel's father asked with a chuckle, bringing him back to reality, where the chessboard was just a chessboard, but the 5th really was playing. "Anywhere else in the solar system and you wouldn't get away with that overactive imagination."

"Well Father, you are the one who fueled it." Toel said, then moved a meager pawn a step. "Check."

"That I did." His father replied, examining the board. "And with good reason, the further we are removed from the existence of humans, the further we fall in to being animals." He slid his bishop to take his son's pawn, knowing he wouldn't risk the queen.

"Did you hear the news from the Jump Pad though?" After a moment, he noticed something. A pawn, only two spaces from the opposite edge. With a side step, he took the rook blocking his path. "They found a living human in a derelict vessel."

"Interesting news, but what will one human do?" His father asked, realizing the trap he'd fallen in to. He couldn't take the pawn with his bishop, because that would leave his king open. "One cannot exactly reproduce without others of his own kind." He slid the king over a space, delaying the inevitable.

"What will one pawn do, father?" Toel asked, moving the pawn forward, replacing it with a queen. "Cloning and genetic engineering produced our race, why can it not restore the human race?" It was down to just being cat and mouse, eventually the king would run out of places to hide.

"True, true." His father moved a pawn in to the path of a queen. "But will he agree?"

"Why would he not?" Toel asked, ignoring the pawn, knowing it to be a trap. He pursued only the king.

"Perhaps we could send someone to make the offer." He was being backed in to a corner and he knew it. "I ask you this though, what will it solve?"

"Music. Culture." Toel said with a smile. "These things and more will be returned."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Humans created them. They are part of humans." Toel said, thoroughly convinced he was right. "After all, how many songs have our kind produced? How many works of art? How many, Father? Why do we sink deeper in to the nature of the animals we came from? Because we have nothing to separate us from them, we fight for our survival, but why do we survive? We survive to survive, nothing more."

"The question becomes though." His father said patiently "Is it a genetic part of humans, or does it come from how they are raised? If it's not genetic, then we will simply have produced another species. Humans in name and appearance, but no less animalistic than the rest of the solar system."

"A possibility, true. But, what if it is? Can we risk letting this chance fall away? And besides, we should at least bring him here to Europa. I'm sure he'd like the change of pace." He slid a piece. "Checkmate."

The older feline eyed the board for a moment. "Well done, and well spoke. Very well, I will send a messenger to him and invite him to visit our estate. From there we could discuss this with him."

Toel nodded, purring slightly. "I am glad you could see it my way, Father." He

reset the pieces on the chessboard, then headed out of the study. He had another world to save, video games were one of the few things humans greatly improved on in the 22nd century.

* * *

Terrance stepped off the transport, this was his first time on a space station, although they weren't too different from the lunar colonies. But he was still excited, and rather disappointed that there weren't any souvenir shops. He was supposed to meet someone here, but he hadn't been told who, so he found something shiny to look at.

"You Terrance?" A voice behind him asked, startling him.

"Eep. Er, yeah." He said, turning to see the speaker. A small 2 tailed fox with a friendly smile, and very nice tails. He's cute. But I'm here on business. Gotta keep my hands to m'self. "I'm Terrance, and you?"

"Kit." The fox said. "I'm supposed to show you to the derelict, let you take a look at it and make sure you really want it. Honestly, I don't think it's got much of a scrap value."

"Well, lead on." Terrance said. So I can enjoy the view. "We're not after it for the scrap, it's for a museum."

Kit nodded, leading Terrance to the derelict. It wasn't at all what he expected, it was a big, bulky ... box.

"Looks like a Borg cube." Terrance said with disgust, earning a very odd look from Kit. "Nothing, never mind. What's it like inside?"

"Dunno, haven't seen it inside." Kit said. "But it's open."

"Let's have a look then." Terrance said, heading in to the ship.

The insides of the ship were pretty dull, however what the two found inside the ship, was not. Terrance also learned that what is said about two-tailed foxes isn't true. At least, not in Kit's case.

A couple hours later, the tour of the ship, as well as other things complete. The two left the ship, acting as though nothing had happened. "So yeah, we'll take the ship." Terrance said, smiling.

Kit nodded, "Your transport leaves in two days. So enjoy your stay."

"I think I will." Terrance said, and then softly "Especially if I can see you again."

"Well, I'm a busy fox." Kit said, blushing. "But, I'll try to find time. Right now I gotta report to the boss."

Terrance nodded as Kit headed off. He watched the fox's tails for a moment, smiling to himself. Shame he's up here and I'm down there.. He then headed to find where he was supposed to sleep, a long flight was rather tiring, so was the tour of the ship.

Kit had a slight skip in his step as he walked away from the wolf mix, he could feel the others eyes on his backside, and it made him happy. He pondered thoughts of requesting a transfer to the surface as he headed towards Kilin's office.

The office door was open, he poked his head in. "Sir?"

Kilin was standing by his desk. "Enter, Kit."

"Yes, sir." Kit entered, barely getting his tails through the door before it closed, he winced inwardly, but didn't say anything. "Sir, I just got done with the representative from the museum that wants to by the derelict, they'll take it. Money will be transferred as soon as it's loaded on the freighter."

Kilin nodded and turned to face the fox. "Good. Now, there's another bit of business we need to discuss, Kit."

"Sir?"

"Someone informed the human as to our plans." Kilin growled, "Do you have any idea who could have done such a thing?"

"No, sir." Kit said.

"You are the only one who could possibly have known." Kilin said, advancing on the little Fox.

Kit knew there was no talking his way out of this, and that he couldn't fight Kilin, his only hope was to get to someone who could. He tried the door but found it locked. He didn't get a chance to come up with new plan before he was lifted by the scruff of the neck, claws tearing in to his skin.

"Trying to run now?" Kilin growled as the spun Kit around, slamming him in to the wall and pinning him there by his neck. "That proves you're guilty."

Kit tried to say something, but couldn't draw the air to speak. He found himself thankful for his uniform, the impact armor meant he didn't get any cracked ribs from being slammed in to the wall, it still hurt though. And there was the whole issue of not being able to breath. Kit found himself hoping Kilin would just make it quick.

"You think I'm going to kill you, don't you?" Kilin asked, a menacing smile crossing his face. "Well I'm not. It's Phobos for you. Guard duty on Phobos." He flung Kit across the room.

For half a second, Kit felt better, because he could breath. And then the situation became much worse. The really bad side was Phobos, but the more immediate concern was the wall that was fast approaching. He hit the wall with a yelp and the sound of cracking bones. He found himself unable to stand, he'd hit at a bad angle, the impact armor couldn't protect his legs.

Kilin walked over to him laughing. He took his time crossing the room, after all, Kit wouldn't get very far on his arms. "Maybe if you're lucky, a prisoner will take a liking to that ass of yours, and you won't be killed right away." He slammed a foot down in to the middle of Kit's back. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Being a sex toy for several hundred inmates."

Kit could only lay there and whimper, tears rolling down his face, both from pain and fear.

Kilin lifted the little fox off the ground and growled, "Nothing left in you? Well, that's a shame."

Kit found himself flung across the room again, this time he struck his head, collapsing to the ground in a heap, his vision fading, he could taste blood. He was lifted again, his mind was trying to shut down. Falling, impact. Short fall, didn't hurt much. He vaguely registered his uniform being stripped off.

Pain. Tearing, claws on flesh. He couldn't patch everything together, but he concluded that Kilin was scarring his body. Finally the blackness overtook him.

Consciousness returned for a bare moment some time later as he found himself flung bodily from Kilin' office. It only returned long enough for him to see a wall, he heard the impact, it was wet and full of breaking bones. So this is how it ends? ... At least I'm avoiding Phobos...... Darkness there and nothing more.

_________

So ends Chapter 4. And with it, Kit's life? Poor Kit.