FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Roger loaded up the last of three wooden crates into the bed of his old HJ47 pickup truck. He latched the tailgate closed and took one last look back at the grounds of his local gun range. He'd done well at the swap meet, having traded for and purchased a number of old military guns for his collection; not limited to but including the crate of unused SKS rifles and two crates of surplus ammunition that were now sitting in the back of his truck. He wasn't interested in owning quite so many of these particular rifles, but for the price he could easily test and pick the best one or two to keep and sell the others for a nice profit later on at the next meet.

Unfortunately, he now had a veritable arsenal in the bed of his truck and was eager to get home as he found such situations uncomfortable. He zipped the soft top of the truck's bed closed and walked around to the cab, got in, and drove off a few minutes after the old diesel engine in it rumbled to life and warmed up.

The range was located a few dozen kilometres outside the city he lived in, and he unconsciously turned on his CB radio, picking up some trucker chatter but mostly just listening for reports of speed traps and any other annoyances that might lengthen his trip home. The trip back to the city was uneventful with only a handful of other vehicles on the road.

The situation changed as soon as Roger was in the city proper though, something he always found amusing, as if cars and semis materialized out of thin air. He ignored the few drivers who slowed down to gawk at his truck that stood out of place amongst the sea of much more modern vehicles; his focus being solely on getting home.

"What the fuck?" he exclaimed, slamming the horn and swerving left as the SUV beside him decided to make a lane change without looking. He was getting dangerously close to being in the oncoming lane, and the driver of the SUV remained oblivious of the fact they were pushing him into it. He looked in horror at the semi that had slammed its brakes with its horn blaring and practically stood on his clutch and brake pedals, knowing that a head-on collision with it was inevitable. Over his CB screamed "GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY YOU IDIOT!" likely the semi's driver, probably fully aware of the uselessness of his words.

Roger cried out "FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK-" The world went bright white around him right before the two vehicles hit, the sound of the truck's horn cut off in the same moment.

"-ME!" he finished as he suddenly found himself in what looked like a small aircraft hanger, the locked wheels on his truck squealing as they skidded along the metal floor before coming to a stop.

He didn't even notice when the truck lurched forward and stalled as the weight of what had just happened hit him, causing him to release the steering wheel and pedals. His heart was pounding loudly in his ears, drowning out the heavy sound of his breathing. Nor did he notice the figure running over to his truck.

Within a few moments he calmed down enough to stare out at the hanger he was now in, hoarsely whispering "What the hell?" as he tried to comprehend what was going on. He slouwly caught his breath while blinking repeatedly and rubbing at his eyes, trying to dispel what he was seeing because he knew he should be seeing the crushed front of the semi he had surely just become intimate with and wondered if he was dead.

The hanger, if that's what it was about a quarter filled with variously shaped and sized containers. The walls and floor looked like they were made out of steel and one end had a very heavy looking set of doors that occupied most of the wall. It was brightly lit, and had a futuristic look to it, like something out of a sci-fi movie. There were markings that looked like no language he'd seen evenly spaced along the walls.

Roger jumped against his seatbelt when something yelled in a rough-sounding basso "Human, show your hands! Why are you here?" from outside the truck, his head snapping to the side as he looked at where the voice came from. The rifle was the first thing he saw and he recoiled from the sight of its barrel trained on him, looking up at its holder, blacking out from the sight.

====================================

Marrin walked between the stacks of cargo in the main hanger, inspecting the containers of mining supplies that were bound for their next stop at the colony on Valkter. Though it wasn't his part of his duties as first officer of the Teshar, he felt that the new quatermaster had not done a thorough enough inspection when they picked up their current cargo. There was just something about Fynor that seemed off, and while Marrin couldn't put a finger on it, the old wolf had taken it upon himself to make sure the young and hotheaded lynx was doing his job properly.

He sighed as he noticed some webbing that wasn't tied down tightly enough, nothing worth chewing Fynor out over, but he wouldn't leave it that way and made his way between the stacks of containers to resecure it.

Right as he leaned forward to grab the webbing a flash of light as bright as any star filled the bay. The wolf threw himself to the floor in expectation of the explosion that never came; instead came squealing followed by a popping sound coming from about 40 metres away down the hanger. He jumped up and ran towards it, stopping when he saw what looked like a wheeled land vehicle unlike any he'd seen before.

<<Human!>> he thought as he noticed the vehicle's occupant, pulling out the plasma rifle he carried on his back and running towards the vehicle. When he reached it, he aimed the rifle at the human, who clearly had yet to notice Marrin and had the appearance of shock and surprise written all over them.

The human continued to ignore him when he barked, <<Human, show your hands!>> instead the man looked around at the hanger, confusion taking the place of surprise on his face. Assuming that the human didn't understand Rukot, the speech of his kind, Marrin switched to English and yelled, "Human, show your hands! Why are you here?" prompting the man to look at him, eyes going wide, and then slump over against the door of the vehicle as they lost consciousness.

The wolf shook his head incredulously and turned his attention away from the unconscious human, instead looking over the vehicle. It was blocky and off-white with a dark green cloth cover behind the portion the human was in. <<Must be for moving cargo,>> he thought while walking around it.

He pulled a small device from his pocket and spoke into it, <<Send a security team to the hanger.>>

====================================

Roger groaned as he slowly returned to consciousness, thinking to himself "What a crazy dream, but it felt so real." Whatever he'd fallen asleep on felt cold, smooth, and hard and he sat up and gave his head a shake to dispel the last vestiges of grogginess from his mind. The light was bright when he opened his eyes, prompting him to close them again almost immediately.

He sat and waited for his eyes to adjust to the light, feeling around on what must be a bench that he'd fallen asleep on. The air was still and completely lacked any smell. He rubbed at his eyes a few times and opened them briefly a few times, catching glimpses of polished metal and a large window a few feet away. His eyes hurt less each time he opened them and he looked around and saw that he was in a small room that contained only the bench he was sitting on. The door and one wall of the room were windowed, and through them he saw a larger room that was lined with similar doors and windows.

"Where the hell am I?" Roger said aloud and wondered if he was still dreaming. He pinched himself hard on the arm and the pain failed to change his situation. He stood up and walked over to the door and noticed that it lacked any sort of latch, nor did it budge when he tried to open it. He noticed that the glass, if that's what it was, felt impossibly smooth and resigned himself to the fact that there was no way he was strong enough to break it. The windowed wall was similarly constructed.

A door on the wall of the large room opposite of his cell and he cried out wordlessly as the same wolfman he'd seen in his dream walked through. The creature appeared to be some sort of cross between a man and a grey wolf, though its fur was white in places like an old dog's. "Holy shit, werewolves are real!" he exclaimed, backing up towards the wall behind him, nearly tripping over the bench as the wolf strode directly towards Roger's cell.

The wolf stopped in front of the windowed wall and stared cooly at Roger for a moment, a paw-like hand moving to a what he assumed was a keypad similar to the ones he'd seen beside the doors of the other cells in the large room.

The wolf's mouth moved and its gruff voice came through the window as if it wasn't there, "You're awake," it said flatly, a statement of fact and not a question. Roger just stared at it bewildered, trying to comprehend what was going on.

The wolf continued, "I am Marrin, first officer of the Teshar. How did you sneak aboard and why are you here?"

"W-w-what are you?" Roger stuttered, "Where am I?"

"You know what I am, human, now tell me how you and that land vehicle got aboard this ship."

"Ship? Land vehicle? You mean my truck?" Roger continued to answer the wolf with questions and tried to make sense of what was happening. The way it said "human" was filled with a contempt and loathing that sent a shiver down his spine.

"I'm going to ask one more time, human, why are you here and how did you get aboard this ship undetected?"

"I don't know why I'm here! I don't even know where 'here' is! I was driving and got into an accident. Am I dead?"

"You will be if you don't tell me why you're here. Did the empire send you?"

"Empire? What? I told you, I was driving and got into an accident!" Roger's heart was starting to pound again, it was clear the wolf didn't believe him. "My name is Roger, I'm from Willcox, Arizona."

"What planet is this Arizona? It is no colony I've heard of."

"Planet?" The realization that Roger was no longer on Earth hit him hard and he sat down. "Am I in space?"

"Yes, you are aboard the Teshar, a freighter for the Rukot Conglomeration." The wolf reponded and looked at him with a hard curiosity. "Where is this Arizona you speak of, there are no planets near here by that name."

"Arizona is a state, not a planet. I'm from a planet named Earth. Please, I just want to go home."

The wolf's look turned to rage, as if Roger had just uttered some terrible insult, "LIAR!" it yelled, causing him to jump and press back against the wall behind the bench, terrified by the ferocity behind that one word.

The wolf calmed a little, glaring at him, "You are an empire spy, that much is obvious, we'll see how much you want to lie after a couple of weeks of half rations." It turned and started walking away.

Roger threw himself off the bench and towards the window, crying out "I'm telling the truth! I'm from Earth!" He pounded on the window hard, though it made no sound, "Damn you wolfman, I can prove it, give me the bag out of the cab of my truck!"

Marrin stopped and looked back at the panicking human, "Earth is a charred husk of a world, your race destroyed it hundreds of standard years ago. That is how I know you are lying." He walked to the door he came in through, paused for it to open, and left.

That last remark sent Roger reeling. Earth destroyed hundreds of years ago? How could that be? He was just there mere hours ago. He cried out, "EARTH IS THERE, I AM FROM THERE! IT CAN'T BE GONE!" He continued to pound fruitlessly on the window, tears forming in his eyes as he realized that crazed wolf was going to keep him locked up and starve him out of some sort of hate he didn't understand.

After a long time of continued pounding on the window and yelling he calmed and sat back down on the bench, spending what seemed like hours going over again and again what the wolfman, Marrin, had said to him. He was in space, on a ship even! Aliens were real and they looked like a less scary version of Hollywood werewolves. He refused to believe that the Earth, his home, was gone, that was impossible, especially not for hundreds of years. Drowsiness started to take hold of him again, the emotional turmoil of what was going on had exhausted him and he laid down on the bench and fell into a fitful sleep.