FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 1: New Dawn

His eyes fixed themselves to the unfurling smoke filling the screen. His lips danced along the stream of prayers he uttered, never faltering on a single silent syllable, willing the outcome to happen. Though the battleship shot through the haze, he did not doubt the outcome.

"Fire again!" he ordered.

His eyes never shut for an instant, not even to blink. The newly elected President wanted to witness every moment that would give birth to his new nation. The missiles accelerating rapidly towards the warship did not disappoint his expectations. Having spent all its flares to avoid the last blast, the U.P. battleship had no chance against the new wave of destruction.

At 1547 Earth Eastern Continental time, a nation's independence was declared complete.

As cheers burst forth from the advisers in the room, President Hawthorne blinked and turned to the back corner. There sat the only man in the room not celebrating the victory, the ambassador from U.P. Mars. Whereas his eyes could not be forced to look at the screens beforehand, now he couldn't tear them away. In disbelief he watched the celebration in front of the screens, where the explosion now looked as if it were some spectacular set of fireworks looped on repeat. The deaths of all the military personnel could be repeated on demand for years to come if anyone were to simply request it. President Hawthorne's wiry frame now stood beside Ambassador Li, one hand clasped to his shoulder.

"It's a new day, Mr. Li. The United States of America," he gloated, "is once again a whole nation. And it was all due to His glory."

Ambassador Li looked at him, defeated. "How could you do this? We're the same nation, for God's sake!"

"It is for God's sake that I have severed our ties, Mr. Li," he said coolly. "Just be glad that you weren't in the middle when I decided to cut them."

"President Regmi won't--"

"President Regmi can't do anything about it. She's isolated on Mars, the leader of an underdeveloped colony." His eyes flashed. "It relied on us--our productivity to stay alive. That battleship was one of six that serve all the colonies. She's not foolish enough to send any more when we have an entire stockpile here to destroy them. This coup d'etat was a success." His voice wrapped itself around the ambassador's head, silkily smooth, but suffocating.

Ambassador Li found that, for the first time in his career, he was unable to think of any way to deescalate the situation by negotiation. President Hawthorne sensed this and, satisfied, turned back to the screens. Ambassador Li saw hundreds of deaths; President Hawthorne saw one birth.

*****

"Damn!"

One hundred million kilometers away, President Regmi's yell echoed through the mission control room as it pierced the stunned silence. No one had dared to speak when they saw one of the finest battleships become nothing more than space junk, falling to earth in a shower of flames. Even with all the weapons and expertise aboard, the ship was not prepared to face the arsenal that was intended to defend the large country's borders.

Without another word, President Regmi turned on the spot and stormed out of the room. Behind her, the hiss of the doors closing was met with the continuing confused silence. She needed to get out, to think. She felt closed in, claustrophobic. Every step it took to reach atrium of the presidential base seemed like ten too many. The many doors and corners that she routinely used were suddenly inconveniences that she never knew existed, and with each one her anger grew.

Finally she reached the atrium, heading straight to the pressurized shield suits. Shoving herself roughly into one, she let the suit adjust to her body and prepared for an exit to the Martian atmosphere. The airlock hissed, and she was free.

When she passed the threshold into the true wilderness of Mars, Agrata Regmi stepped into the thin rays of the Martian sunrise. The night sky, dotted with countless stars, had given way to a reddened sky. The vast stretch of rocky dirt expanded before her, reaching the horizon without a single sign of another person's existence. This, she thought, is where I need to be. Clear my head, and then I can get back to that bastard, Hawthorne.

Agrata Regmi was a natural-born leader. A native Martian, she excelled in almost every school subject and took nearly all the elected leadership position she could get her hands on. Where she went, her classmates would follow; what she asked, they would do. It was as if she held a strange power over others. Of course, it was more attributable to the fact that she had a natural talent for reading other people and a confidence the size of the Sun rather than any hypnotic power.

The Martian infrastructure in which she was raised had grown to such a substantial size by the time she was in school, that nearly 40% of the declining population of Earth's civilization lived on the new planet. The major economic and governmental powers had worked hard to build a sustainable system in the harsh environment in order to expand humanity's reach in the solar system. Now, two billion people lived on the secondary planet.

Each government controlled a portion of the colony, creating nations that extended beyond physical borders on a sphere to now become complex networks on a multi-planetary scale. The United States of America controlled one of the largest portions. To match the importance that the country placed on the achievement, it changed its official title to the United Planets.

But even with that major achievement, a political resistance to this system had been growing on Earth. As the colony became more accessible, more U.P. citizens immigrated to Mars. A sociological trend occurred, where more atheistic or secularly-minded people wanted to immigrate, while the more religiously minded viewed the move as a betrayal of their gods' work on Earth. Agrata, however, began to see a problem early in her political career. The conservative movement wasn't just an interesting sociological tidbit, it lead to very different compositions in representatives. While Agrata had managed to win a popular vote between the voters of Earth and Mars, more representatives and senators were elected on Earth. As the resentment grew within the movement about Earth's role in supplying the Martian colony, these representatives were positioning themselves to make a move.

And today it finally happened.

"Damn!" She shouted. "We might have just lost Earth." She picked up a rock and hurled it so far that it became a speck in the distance. She did not move. She did not speak. Her keen, dark eyes were looking out across the Martian terrain, contemplating the next step.

*****

The setting sun was fleeing Earth, taking its light from the land. Darkness seeped from the cracks and the edges to fill the absence. Among the trees, the shadows spun themselves into webs, trapping the forest floor and falling over an immense structure. The square building almost appeared to be a ruin. It wasn't simply damage to the outside, caused by vandals or storms; this building was weathered by time.

The façade maintained enough integrity to show its academic roots: great Dorian columns lined the entrance, over the top of which were carved letters; ivy, which normally was out of place in such a forest, blanketed the walls; and only a few stained glass windows remained that showed an insignia. This building had been here for much longer than the forest itself, it seemed. The trees appeared to be carefully growing away from the walls out of respect for the ancient structure, so as not to damage it any further. Enough light passed over the tops of the trees to cause a glint to appear on the dark panels atop the roof.

Strangely, this building did not seem abandoned at all. In fact, from behind a few windows in one corner, a soft glow emanated from computer screens which cast two large silhouettes. They leaned in more closely to the computer screen, studying the results displayed on them.

"I think," one voice tentatively offered, "that should just about do it." A single claw delicately touched the enter key. A burst of activity appeared on the screen and a loud thump could be heard from somewhere deeper inside the building, resolving to a pleasant hum. The figure leaned back into the chair, a smile coming across a muzzle. The technical genius, Troy, stretched his feline frame luxuriously and then brought a paw to rest on his chest. "Looks like I've done it again!"

"And they said you couldn't even fix toasters," smirked Arion. He laid a heavy, coal black hand on the tiger's shoulder and leaned in to examine the images. His long face became illuminated, revealing an irregular white blaze running down the equine snout. The tired eyes blinked hard, trying to clear their vision. "So everything is running again?"

"Yup," Troy responded cheerfully. "As long as you don't advertise this location in the apartment listings, you should be undetectable. Too bad it took you a test run to figure it out."

"It's not the equipment I cared about losing." Arion stood up to his full height now, letting out a weary sigh. At nearly eight feet tall, Arion's muscular frame made him a veritable giant. His mane draped almost elegantly down his thick neck and over his shoulders. There was a wild, and yet effortlessly controlled air surrounding him. Accentuating this air, Arion had opted to dress in a more primitive style, wearing only a grey loin cloth. Apparently the chilly dusk air didn't bother him. "Let's go check out the machines then."

Troy sprang from the chair, excited to show off his handiwork. "I was able to piece together two machines from the wreckage I could gather." They moved through the dark hallways, feeling the hum growing stronger in their chests. "I am an optimist, so I made sure to create a modular setup. Any new parts you find can be added on easily by a humble toaster mechanic, or you could even construct more units."

They passed through a doorway and entered what seemed like an old lecture hall. Down where the lectern originally stood were two pod-like masses of metal, wires, tubes, and glass. The doors were open, revealing a padded interior, clearly made to hold a person more than comfortably. Soft green light poured out from underneath the machine, and a dim yellow light filled the beds.

Arion strode down to the pods, clapping a hand to one's side. "Ack!" Troy bounded down and caressed the machine. "Be gentle with my babies, Arion. They're delicate."

The equine chuckled, remembering how one of these very machines easily held his massive body after the final session. "They'll be fine, Troy. But if you feel so strongly about them, I'll leave them alone."

"Thank you," he cooed.

"As long as they can do the job and morph people without any complications, we're good to go."

The tiger turned to him, fixing him with his amber eyes. "We will start again. Those bastards won't wipe us off this Earth."

"Never." Arion looked back to the machines, as he felt guilt well up inside his gut. "Misfits are hard to exterminate."