(Cue author rambling for a second) So, this is the first chapter in my story. Now, I'll apologise that it's not overly yiffy, infact in the main story, there won't be any detailed yiff. Ofcourse, due to the fact that I'm a dirty minded pervert, I will load subchapters that are.. Abit more fun. I appriciate any comments you may have, however if you just want to tell me it sucks. Meh, I already know I'm not a good writer ;) Without further inanity, I give you the first chapter of Only Human. -------------------- Cold. No surprise. Came the first conscious thoughts, overtaking the beauty of dreams. His eyes flickered open hesitantly after a long sleep. And white. Cold, white, sterile... Must be a hospital, was there a pod malfunction? "Good morning, Mr. Ericson." A voice broke the silence of his thoughts, the source? A speaker on the wall. "Good morning to you, too." His joints popped as he stretched, before rising from the bed. He was fairly short, at just shy of 5 and a half feet, with a strong frame. A young man in his prime. I wonder how close to on schedule we arrived. "Can you tell me what year it is?" "Yes, sir." The speaker replied, "It is presently 07:56, December 8th, 2547." Bloody great, after a 50 year flight, the first person I talk to is a bloody smartass. "No, seriously. What year is it? The ship wouldn't have even held together that long." "I understand that it is hard to believe," The voice sounded calm, expecting that reaction. He couldn't tell if it was male or female, and had a slightly inhuman quality to it, which he attributed to the speaker. "But it really is 2547. This will not be the hardest piece of information for you to accept." ". . . . You're serious, aren't you?" He dropped back on to the bed, his legs suddenly feeling their age. "The ship held together almost 500 years, that's impressive. What of the others? How many survived?" "You are the only one." "450 years late and one survivor." He sighed, thinking of his crew mates. "That's a botched mission all right. Do you know what happened?" "We have been running diagnostics, and checking logs. Some of the logs were corrupted, but near as we can tell, something made the navigational software think it was somewhere else." "The computer was programmed to wake up the techs if anything went wrong with the navigational software though." "And the computer didn't think that anything was. Surmising from the logs, the navcom figured itself to have found a 'landmark' and corrected its course for that. Then further down the line it realized it wasn't where it needed to be, and readjusted its course. The machine did not consider this a malfunction because the navcom software was working perfectly fine in its routine diagnostics. "As cryopods began to fail the computer took the resources devoted to those failing and put them towards the remaining. It's just a random chance that it happened to be yours that lasted the longest. At least that is what we have surmised so far." "Can I review the ships logs?" He asked, "I was her chief mechanic." "You can't leave this room for a few days. Standard procedures after the 2149 plague. The first returning deep space crew came back with a virus that was dormant in them, until they spent time in earth's atmosphere, before it was caught and a cure found for it, it killed almost half a million people. Needless to say we don't want something like that happening again, especially not in such a tightly contained environment." "Understandable. So that leads me to another question." He hesitated for a moment, having a sinking feeling that he wasn't going to like the answer. "Where are we?" "The Lunar Jump Pad, a space station built to orbit earth, approximately halfway between earth and the moon. It was built in the early 22nd century as a staging point for the materials needed to build the first Lunar colony, then became a major stop over point for travel between earth and the lunar colonies." The reply came as a shock to him, and also quite a bit more detailed than he'd expect. ".. I know I'm going to regret asking this; Why am I here and not on Earth?" "You're right. You won't like the answer." The voice actually sounded rather sympathetic, "Earth is no longer habitable. In the late 22nd century, tension was rising between nations. Countries began making plans, building weapons. The US, Japan and Germany all began work on highly lethal chemical weapons. Viruses, the idea being to inoculate their own soldiers, and unleash it on the opposing countries. Few survivors, no long term damage. "Until they were unleashed that is, there was no contingency plan for if the virus mutated. The three were highly contagious, and spread fast. When people began getting infected with more than one, a new virus was produced. In the end it was a supreme killing machine, more than half of earths population was either dead or infected, and the number was jumping rapidly. "Several world leaders got together and discussed the situation, the only viable way to stop the spread of the virus to the lunar colony and beyond, was to unleash an archaic weapon. So every doomsayer in the late 20th and early 21st century was right. In the end, the nuked it all to oblivion. It's been nearly 300 years, the radiation is still to high for life to be sustained, and we've yet to come up with that miracle technology that eradicates radiation." Silent for a moment he considered the answer before asking "So all that's left of the human race, is on a lunar colony and a space station?" On the other side of the wall, the speaker turned away from the view screen with a sigh, "I'll answer the rest of your questions another time, Command just called me to the bridge." She then departed for the residential district. A young wolf, tall and thin, with an excellent muscle tone, despite growing up in zero gravity. He'll have to find out sooner or later, but now is not the time. I doubt he could take that kind of a shock. But what happens now? Very few have seen a living human, and many will resent his existence. He'll have no money, no home, no one to turn to. In many ways it would have been better for him if his pod had failed. "Please state name for voice recognition." The automated voice interrupted her thoughts. "Tiera." "Thank you, please wait." Ironically, it took the machine longer to say that than it took to take her voice recording and compare it to the record, and check for differences outside of the acceptable bounds. "Approved, thank you." She stepped in to her dorm as the door hissed open, like all quarters on a space station it was small. Unlike most, it was cluttered. Most of the clutter was books, novels from before the war. Books, and uniforms waiting to be washed, another of which was added to the pile. He'll need a job if he's going to survive. He said he's a mechanic, maybe an antique ship repair station. * * * In a dimly lit outdated office, complete with the artificial windows that make one think it overlooks the lunar landscape, sat an old overweight lion, Uncle Bob as most called him. Uncle Bob was like that favorite uncle every guy had while growing up, the one that would tell dirty jokes, belch the alphabet, and occasionally even misplace a porn magazine. He was also a shrewd business man, and no ones uncle. His name wasn't really Bob, either. He had inherited Uncle Bob's Old-World Curiosities ("A mind-boggling collection of artifacts from the darker times.") from his father, a collector of all manner of relics from before the war. Presently, he was sitting at his desk, staring at the numbers on his computer screen, wondering if it was time to sell the collection. "Hey, boss?" Terrance poked his head in to the office, "Got a minute.. Something you might wanna hear." "What is it this time Terrance?" Uncle Bob asked, then taking a more sarcastic tone, "Did the aliens come to take you home?" "Nope, not yet." Terrance smirked, flopping in to the couch. Terrance was a young mutt, his mother was a wolf, father an unknown breed of 'domestic canine', Uncle Bob suspected it was the Australian Shepherd, orphaned at birth, Uncle Bob adopted him because he loved the collection. "Better even than that though. It may not be true, but rumor from the Jump Pad is they picked up a derelict craft there. The Freedom 7, that's the first ever deep-space craft produced on earth. It was reported missing after not returning within the accepted time frame." This peaked Uncle Bob's interest, "So, you think if we buy it, it'll attract new customers?" "Well, maybe..." Terrance shrugged, "But what they found on it would attract a lot of interest. One of the cryopods was still intact. A single crew member survived." "So? A surviving crew member?" "Yeah. Surviving human crew member." Uncle Bob's eyes lit up, "Well, that's a whole different matter son. You see what you can find out about the ship, see if we can buy it. I'm going to try and figure a way to convince the human to work for us." * * * Ezekial Darkmoon sat behind his desk, the office around him was brightly lit, decorated with pictures of the admirals before him, although he had removed the human ones. It was the most advanced office, in the most advanced building on the lunar surface, Lunar Command. Presently, he was running scenarios by the base computer, they were just possibilities, but rumors were circulating of a rebellion on Europa and he wanted to be ready. "Admiral," his assistant came over the com, "you have a call from Commander Kilin on the Jump Pad. He says it is an urgent matter about the derelict they picked up. Shall I patch him through." "Do it." Ezekial growled as soon as the tigers face appeared on screen, "Kilin, this had better be important." "I am sorry to have disturbed you sir." Kilin said, bowing his head submissively, Ezekial could tell it killed him to have to do that to a mouse, of all things. "It is extremely important information concerning the derelict we were instructed to pick up. It is the Freedom 7, the first deep-space crafted launched from Earth. Normally this wouldn't mean anything, I understand. But one of her crew survived. I would have just ordered my crew to dispose of it, but unfortunately word spread fast, and in the interest of maintaining control over this facility, I was forced to provide it with proper medical attention and revive it." "Troubling indeed." Ezekial pondered this problem for a moment. "What of an 'accidental' death in the med bay?" "Considered it. The medical personnel are either intrigued by it, or think of it as a pet." "So you're saying people like it?" "Yes, sir." "Then I have a plan." The little mouse grinned, a most disturbing sight, "We hire him." "What?!" Kilin lost his composure for a moment, then stuttered ".. Sir, are you sure?" "Certainly, what better way to show acceptance of him, than hiring him, despite his obvious physical deficiencies." The mouse gave his PR smile, something mice were very good at, "Then, as everyone knows the station for new recruits is randomized. So we send him to Phobos, he dies in a riot." "Brilliant plan sir." Kilin smiled, times like these, he liked working for a mouse. "But, there's one small flaw. What if he doesn't join?" "Good question." Ezekial pondered it once more. "Why wouldn't he join? He has no money and no home, he needs to eat. But suppose he doesn't join, where will he go? He has nothing to his name. If he doesn't join, we just let the vagrancy laws kick in. When he's picked up, we send him to Phobos, and he dies in a riot, but as a prisoner instead of a guard." "Sir, the media.." Kilin said, "They'll say 'Phobos is too harsh a punishment for a first offense vagrancy.' and you lose favor." "Hmm, good point Kilin. I did overlook that." Ezekial began to spin a pen between his fingers, "How will I make it appear that I'm doing the best thing for our people?" "Perhaps, sir, if he were to attack and injure, or maybe even kill, one of ours? Then he would be the medias monster." "Excellent suggestion Kilin. Problem solved." Ezekial nodded, "Now if you will excuse me, I have an uprising on Europa to plan for." "Yes, sir." The screen went blank leaving Kilin standing in his office. "Kit, get in here!" It took a moment for the little fox to make his way in to the office, trying to make sure his uniform was perfect, and make sure that Kilin couldn't tell he was eavesdropping, "Sir?" "I need you to deliver a message to the human, what's his name?" "That would be Nathaniel Ericson, sir." The little fox replied. "And the message, sir?" "Mr. Ericson," Kilin began, "it has come to our attention that you are now unemployed, due to the USAF disbanding. The PDD offers you guaranteed pay, meals and a place to sleep. In the interest of equality we will reduce the entry requirements for you, due to your special circumstances. Please respond. Commander Kilin of PDD." "And when should this be delivered, sir?" Kit asked as he finished writing the message. "Immediately." "Yes, sir." * * * Several hours later found Tiera seated at her computer, staring intently at the screen, tail twitching now and again. She had spent the last two hours searching for information on this human, one Nathaniel A. Ericson. Born February 18th, 2037, no siblings. Joined the USAF at age 18, going from there to the deep space program, due to his skill as a mechanic. May 4th, 2061 he set out for a 50 year mission on Freedom 7, the first manned deep-space craft. Deceased: Declared May 4th, 2136. Other information, such as his extended family, all manner of details on the Deep Space program, and countless news reports on the crew of Freedom 7 were found too, but for the most part, those were uninteresting. Her research was interrupted by a soft chime, indicating someone at her door. The door hissed open, revealing a small two-tailed fox. "Hi Tie..err, you're nekkid..." "Yes, Kit, I am." Tiera said with a smile, "Like the view?" Kit looked for a moment, then shook his head "Not particularly, no." "Aww," she pouted, "What's not to like?" "That thing between your legs for starters." "Oh, you mean the vagina?" Tiera grinned, "You're just jealous because you don't have one." Kit blushed and shook his head. "Nuh-uh. I'm happy with what I got, I just happen to like my lovers with them, too." Tiera snickered, sticking her tongue out at him. "Anyways Kit, what brings you here? Obviously not plans to kidnap me and do naughty and perverted things to me. It's a shame too, if what they say about two-tailed foxes is true..." "You'll never know." Kit taunted. "But, I'm here about the human." "What about him? He's kinda cute, isn't he. But I saw him first so he's mine." "Feh, Humans don't turn me on." Kit grumbled, then returned to the business at hand. "I came here because you're the only person I can trust to do something. Kilin is planning on getting the human killed." "Spying on the boss again?" Tiera scolded him, "How's he intend to do it?" "Long story short they're gonna recruit him and station him on Phobos and make sure he dies in a riot. 'Cause they know that he can't get by without a job or place to live so if he doesn't join up, they'll nail him for vagrancy, set him up, and send him to Phobos." Kit sighed, "The offer has been delivered, he's to respond when he is released from the med bay. I really can't do anything to help him, because then Kilin will know it was me, and .. Well, I don't have money keeping me in a non-com post." "Mrf. I'll see what I can do." Tiera said, considering her options. "Thanks for the information, Kit." "Yeah.. just make sure that nothing happens to him." Kit turned to walk away, "And that Kilin doesn't find out I told you anything." "Will do," Tiera nodded, "And Kit, the non-com post is not my choice, I can't control what my mother does." "I know." The door hissed shut, leaving Tiera alone once more. Well, fuck. He's got no home, no friends to stay with. No money for a hotel, and we can't get it billed to the PDD. So I guess I'll let him stay here for a while. That will be interesting. Tiera sighed, calling down to the med bay on her com. "Med bay, can ve fix you today?" The voice on the other end said, she figured it would be Kurz, the slightly insane panther with a fake German accent. "Uh, how about.. no." Tiera replied, "I'm just wondering if you can tell me when the human is going to be released?" "Oh, zat you Tiera? I think he vill be released in two days or so." Kurz paused for a moment, "Ja, he vill be released in two days should all go vell." "Thanks, Kurz." Tiera said and quickly closed the channel. ---------------- Here ends the first chapter. It'll get more interesting, I swear!