FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I blink my eyes open, or at least I think I do, the world around me so dark and empty that I couldn't tell if I was awake or not. I try to sit up but find myself weighed down, my limbs heavy and sluggish, like I was wearing a jacket made of lead. Darkness surrounds me on all sides, a void of nothingness completely engulfing everything. What stands out to me most is the complete silence, the only sound I am able to hear being that of my own thoughts and the beating of my heart. Where am I? What is this place?

Trying to see anything in this inky void was fruitless, there is no light, no wind, no sound, and most certainly no people. It reminds me of my cell back at the compound, except even in my cell there was noise. Voices drifting in through walls and under the door, the sound of generators rumbling through the concrete, and even a few laughs every now and then. Here, however, there was nothing. It was like the calm before the storm, the silence so oppressive that it put me on edge and made me feel claustrophobic.

Suddenly my head starts spinning, nausea threatening to make me puke. It passes quickly, but in its place comes a sudden chill, the temperature around me dropping rapidly. The eerie feeling of being watched descends on me like I'm prey being stalked by a predator. Is there something out there, hiding in the dark? Surely not, this… this place, these feelings, it's all just a dream, a figment of my imagination, a nightmare!

I can feel the temperature dropping evermore, piercing through my skin like a knife made of ice. My teeth start to chatter uncontrollably and I want to wrap my arms around myself, to keep the little warmth I have left burning, but I still cannot move!

I try screaming in frustration, and even though I feel my mouth open, nothing comes out. Maybe all of this is real… Maybe… I am dead. Is that it? Am I dead, and this desolate place is my own, personal hell?

My thoughts are interrupted as the air suddenly grows stale and becomes thinner, leaving me to suck in what I can with shaky, ragged gasps.

Before, there had been a constant supply of air, but now it feels like it has all but stopped, slowing to barely more than a trickle. My breathing hastens and grows louder, my mind screaming at me to calm down lest I use up all the oxygen there was. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, beating against me from the inside as if it was trying to escape while stress consumes my mind and sends me spiraling into a panic.

Wha-- What's happening! I can't… I can't breathe! I scream inside my own head, thrashing around and fighting against the invisible bonds that keep me immobile. Pressure starts to build inside my chest, my lungs begging for more air. Quick, ragged gasps escape me, my head starting to feel faint and dizzy. Darkness should be closing in on the edges of my vision, but the place I am in is already so dark that it does not matter.

Pain shoots through my skull, my voice screaming internally as what feels like a thousand pins push their way out of my head! The same happens to my back, thousands upon thousands of little pinpricks covering my skin as something pushes through from beneath.

Tears start to stream down my face as the pain becomes overwhelming, my voice screaming out into the darkness for someone, anyone, to save me.

Stop! Please, make it stop! I sob, my voice contained within my own head. If anything, the pain just increased.

***

It feels like it has been days now, trapped inside this place and unable to get out. There was just enough oxygen in the air to keep me conscious, yet my body craved for more. At least the pain had settled down to something more bearable. My sobbing had long since stopped, my body trying to conserve the energy needed to continue breathing what little air there was.

Suspended there in the void made me feel small and helpless, the feeling of being watched never leaving me. Everything remained still and motionless, silent as a grave except for my own thoughts bouncing around inside my head. They were so loud yet so quiet at the same time.

"Stabilize--... Don't let him--…" Echoed a voice, their words unclear and distant.

I look up so fast I fear I might have given myself whiplash. Voices… I swear I had just heard voices. I wait, holding my breath, straining my ears, listening so intently as to not miss it again.

Nothing came, and I let my head fall with disappointment, the brief shimmer of hope dissipating quickly. Am I finally going crazy? Hearing voices that are not there?

"Malfun-… Increase… Syste-… Failure…" There it was again, another voice this time! They sounded far off and echoey, as if someone was shouting down a long tunnel. I can't make out what they are saying, their voice distorted and barely audible. Their tone, however, was clearly panicked, worried.

They came again, much closer this time, making me jump in surprise.

"The jump has scrambled some of the systems, life support is barely functioning!" someone said, their voice light yet with a slight bark to their words.

People! Actual people! They were out there somewhere, hidden behind the veil of darkness, just out of reach yet so close! I do not understand what they are talking about, but I do not care! I just want them, need them, to help me.

Help! Please help me! Get me out of here! I shout, throwing everything I have into trying to project my voice out into the void. Unfortunately, they either couldn't hear me or were ignoring my pleas, moving on with their conversation.

"How do we fix it?" came the other one, their voice much closer. They sounded deep and rolling, yet feminine at the same time.

"Let's see… safest bet would be to restart the system," the first one responded.

"Then do it."

"Right, this should take only a few minutes."

There was silence for a moment, then, some unknown force, leaving me gasping in desperation, ripped the oxygen from my lungs. My throat constricted, my lungs working hard to try and suck in any amount of air possible. My head starts to feel fainter, clouding over with panic and unhelpful thoughts. Pressure grew in my chest rapidly, traveling up and into my throat, making it feel like I was being crushed from the inside out.

Then it was over, fresh air filling my lungs once more! I gasp, sucking in as much as I could, the pressure that was building now fading away. Slowly my breathing came back down, light shudders racking my body.

"Alright, good," said the lighter of the two, "His vital signs are stabilizing. Abnormal heart rate has settled and breathing has evened out."

"Good, good, now get him out, she wants to see him as soon as possible," replied the other.

Their companion responded, but their voice was faint and barely more than a whisper.

Please, wait! Get me out of here! Help me! I try to scream, to get their attention, but they slowly disappeared, fading into the background.

Please, don't go… I whimper, fresh tears starting to run down my cheeks as I tried desperately to hold onto the feeling of not being alone. Sadly, emotions were not tangible enough for me to grasp, and the warmth of hope I had of escaping this place disappeared.

The skin-crawling feeling of being watched returned and my mind slowly fell back into despair. I could hear them, two people talking just beyond the veil of darkness, their voices muffled, as if I was listening in on a private conversation from another room. They were so close, so very close, yet so far.

Unhelpful thoughts crept back into my head as I let myself become stagnant once more. Perhaps the voices were another part of my eternal punishment, teasing me with how close I was to freedom. I couldn't think of anything else as to what this place could be, it had to be a prison, a cage that will torment me for all eternity.

I must have died during one of the therapy sessions or perhaps out on a mission. I can't remember much from back then, everything was always fuzzy, like I was looking at the world through frosted glass.

It feels like it has been a while now, hours maybe, possibly days. Time was impossible to tell here. There is one thing I am noticing now, though, and that is the subtle brightening of the void around me, a warm, red hue starting to take over. It was as if I was looking at a light bulb with my eyes closed, the light filtering through my eyelids. The voices from before begin to grow in strength, becoming louder, closer, to the point it sounded like they stood on the other side of a door.

Then came the falling, before I had just floated there, but whatever mystical means had kept me hovering seems to have disappeared, letting me fall down into the ever-brightening darkness.

My eyes bugged out of my head, my mouth agape as I try to scream! I wanted to flail, to claw at the air, and try to stop myself from falling! My limbs remain motionless, however, glued to my sides by some unseen force as I plummet into the unknown, like a rock thrown from a cliff.

***

Slowly, my eyes crack open, white light blinding me for a second before my eyes finally adjust. I'm inside some kind of box, like a coffin, my body fitting snuggly inside.

White light strips flank me on either side, straps of what I can only guess to be flexy-steel keeping me bound tight. Above was a glass pane, frosted over with ice, shadows dancing around just on the other side. I was laying on something soft yet firm, my body sinking into the material and being hugged on all sides.

Some kind of crash padding perhaps? I think, flexing my fingers and toes as feeling starts to return to my extremities.

A mask covers my nose and mouth, two hoses connecting it to the pod. Fresh air flowed in through one hose, and when I breathed out, the other would suck away the carbon dioxide.

"Alright, unlock the pod and let's get him out of there," someone said. It was one of the same people as before! The deeper one I believe.

"Unlocking in 3… 2… 1…" replied the other.

With a hiss, the pod I was in shook, the top popping off with a crack as the ice broke away, the hydraulics of the door lifting it up. A sudden rush of warm air quickly whisked the previous cold away.

Everything was so fuzzy, my vision blurry and unfocused. Two dark silhouettes appeared above me, blocking out the glow from the overhanging lights. I couldn't make out who or what they were, but I knew for certain at least one of them was huge, their form looming over both me and their companion.

"Wakey, wakey, human!" Said the larger one, reaching down, plucking the mask from my face, and letting it hang over the side of the pod.

I gasped and shuddered, breathing in the recycled air around me. It felt like I had been drowning and only now breached the surface of the water.

"Calm yourself," the smaller one huffed, reaching over and unlocking the clasps of the straps.

"W-Where am I?" I groan.

"You're on the Artemis station," replied the smaller one, pointing a device at me that looked oddly like a radar gun. A wide, red beam shot forth, and they dragged it down my body. It flashed blue, and the person let out a contemplative hum before walking away.

"I… The what?" I mumble. What is the Artemis station, why am I here, and what is going on? My head pounded in protest, a mind-splitting headache forming and telling me to stop thinking.

"The Artemis station," repeated the large one, "It's an all-female prison station that holds non-humans."

"P-Prison? But... why?" I lift my hands to my head, cradling it as the room starts to spin rapidly. I close my eyes tightly, blocking out the light and blurry images to try and stop myself from feeling nauseous.

"You don't remember?"

"Temporary memory loss," explained the smaller of the two. I opened my eyes when they returned, the blurriness had not abated just yet, and the brightness of the room left me squinting. From their voices, I could tell they were both females, but of what race I am unsure. "It's a common side effect of slip space. Do not worry, your memories will return. Now, take this."

She pressed what felt like a piece of paper into my hand, no bigger than a postage stamp.

"Place that on your tongue and let it dissolve," she instructed before pulling out the same scanning device as before.

I do as I'm instructed, placing the small piece of paper on my tongue as she scans me again, this time the beam flashing green. Within just a few seconds, the flavor of coffee explodes in my mouth, making me jump in shock.

"W-What is this?" I mumble, trying to swallow the excessive amount of saliva that had started to pool in my mouth.

"A caffeine patch, it helps clear up the side effects of slip space," said the smaller one, who I had to guess to be a doctor or some kind of medic.

And indeed, it did help, because not but a moment later, the pounding in my head slowly fade, and my vision started to clear. I was in what looked to be a medical room, with white walls, ceilings, and floors making the place seem far brighter. Off to one side, tapping away at a touch screen computer, was a Venmar.

Her black and grey coat of fur stood out against her white surroundings, a large bushy tail swaying idly behind her, her claws clicking against the glass screen as she typed. She wore a white, form-fitting jumpsuit, red crosses decorating the shoulders, a grey, honeycomb-patterned hexagon printed on the left side of the chest. Once she finished typing, she trotted over on her two, long, slanted legs, her dark brown eyes examining me intently.

"Curious, your appearance does not match the images that I have of you," she said, walking around the white, bullet-shaped pod I was sitting in and examining me from every side. "I do not believe this to be a side effect of slip space or of stasis, perhaps genetic?"

"What are you talking about?" I croak, looking over my shoulder and following her as she came back around. One might think that seeing the head of a wolf talking perfect English would be strange, but to me, it was perfectly normal. My mother was a Venmar and I had grown up surrounded by aliens, things like this did not freak me out as much as it did for most humans.

"Na'Vesca, would you be a dear and fetch that mirror over there?" asked the Venmar, pointing towards a large body-length mirror that sat in the corner of the room.

I finally turn back around to look at the other person with us in the room and am startled at what I see. I jerk backwards, looking up and down at the colossal of a woman before me. She was a Kilnoid, large, nearly seven or eight feet tall, the rather advanced-looking power armor she wore hiding the swell of her chest and concealing the well-defined muscles that every Kilnoid had. A large plasma caster was slung over her shoulder, and a rail gun pistol was holstered on her hip. A helmet was hooked to her belt as well, black with a green visor, two sharp triangles melded to the sides of the headgear, most likely for her ears to fit into.

She was covered in a mop of thick, shaggy brown fur, though it was trimmed around her face, making her two, solid black eyes pop. Large, pointed, bat-like ears framed the sides of her head, and with the fur on her face trimmed shorter, the fur on top of her head looked almost like hair, styled in a comb-over and shiny with either gel or hairspray. Not a very common practice for the usually violent and war-loving race, but it was a growing trend among the newer generation. Mainly the ones who grew up in the core worlds rather than on their home planet of Tel'ar'a.

The lips of her short, stubby muzzle were quirked up in amusement, the glistening white tips of a pair of tusks peeking out from beneath her upper lip. Four-digit hands, one thumb, and three fingers rested on her wide hips.

She turned her attention to the Venmar and nodded, lumbering over to the mirror and gingerly gripping it by the frame. Luckily, it was on wheels so all she had to do was roll it over.

I gazed into the mirror and paused, looking at my reflection in wonder. It was me… but… not me? My hair, once short and black, was now long and white, coming down to just past my shoulders and I could swear that it looked thicker, as if I had grown more. In addition to this change, there were my eyes. I have always had storm grey eyes, just like my father, but now, one of my eyes, my left one, is a shockingly electric blue.

I finally notice the suppressant collar around my throat, and, as if it was a trigger, memories I had forgotten, now trickle back into remembrance. The R.O.F, the raid, the prisons… Amelia. I shake off that last thought, not wanting to think about her just yet.

The collar had a sleek and simple design, silver metal with a light beige inner padding as to not be uncomfortable for the wearer. There was a vertical seam in the center, indicating where a high-powered magnet attached the two pieces.

I bring my hands to my head, running my fingers through my hair. It was rough and coarse, not having been washed in a very long time. My fingers catch on a knot and I wince when I accidentally pull it, making pinpricks of pain crawl across my scalp.

The pain reminded me of my dream, of just floating there in a void as small pinpricks covered my head and back. Was there possibly a reason for that? My hair had changed color, grown longer, and there was no doubt more of it. My eyes had shifted in hue as well, what is to say nothing else about my body had changed.

With that thought in my head, I grab the zipper of my grey jumpsuit and pull it down, shrugging it off my shoulders and letting it fall so the top part hung around my waist. Still seated in the pod, I turn the best I can, presenting my back to the mirror while looking over my shoulder. There, starting at my shoulders and tapering down to the small of my back, clear as day, was a light coating of white fur.

"How…" I whisper, my eyes wide and mouth agape. My mother had been a Venmar, my father a human. While rare, extremely rare, it was not impossible for humans and aliens to produce offspring. A sub-species that most people call Hybrids. However, while I was a Hybrid, I had not been born with any characteristics of my mother, which was strange in and of itself. But now… now I wasn't sure what to think.

Was I some kind of late bloomer? My hair is now white, like my mother's fur, and one eye is now the same color as hers. To top it all off I now had fur partially covering my back. It wasn't much, just short and barely more than a light coating, but still, it was there.

"As I suspected, you are a Hybrid, are you not?" asked the Venmar, data-pad in one hand. "I suspected something was off when my scanner was picking up some… abnormal readings. That, as well as your sudden shift in appearance."

"I… Yes, I am," I whisper nervously. My shoulders tense, my gaze shifting to the floor, just waiting for the ridicule, the insults,

"Extraordinary, absolutely extraordinary," she breathed, her eyes wide and a huge smile decorating her muzzle.

I blink a few times, confused at the lack of hurling insults and degradation. When I finally look back up, I find the Venmar zipping around, taking pictures of me and tapping at her data-pad so fast her hands were a blur.

“I must document everything!" she squealed, “A Hybrid, and here of all places! I don't care, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity!"

"Calm down doc," grunted the Kilnoid, "The kid is still a prisoner. Though I guess this does half explain why he's here. Hybrids ain't exactly human, but it is a bit weird given that this place is supposed to be just for women."

"Hmm, you are correct, it is rather strange. Perhaps an oversight on someone else's end, a rather… interesting mistake."

"A… mistake?" I mumble, looking at myself in the mirror. Those eyes, once just those of my father, are now being shared with my mother. My once black hair, now white and long. White fur partially covering my back, and perhaps even other places on my body I have not yet realized. I was short, scrawny, my ribs showing through my skin. My eyes looked like they hadn't slept in days, and my throat was dry and horse.

Thinking back on it all, I finally realize, I truly am nothing more than a big mistake. I'm a freak of nature, an accident, a cross between two separate species that should never have come together. Yet here I am, the product of said unnatural pairing. What a disappointment I must be, a criminal at the age of 14, a terrorist at 17, and a murderer as well.

How disappointed my parents must be. Them, dead, while their only son turns to a life of crime… Then there is my cousin, Amelia. How disappointed she must feel… She probably hates me now, the one person in my life that actually cared about me. What must she think of me? Disappearing one day without a trace, only to show up on the news years later, accused of being a terrorist and murderer. I am not sure how I will ever make it up to her. Perhaps I will escape again, truly this time, not like those impromptu, spur-of-the-moment attempts like before, but truly planned and executed.

Should I do that though? My hands are stained with blood; I have nowhere to go even if I do get out. Perhaps I should just accept my punishment, live out the rest of my days in a cell, and slowly rot away. I do deserve it after all. Maybe I could think better if I wasn't so tired… so very tired…

I look down at my hands, the same ones that had indirectly, and directly in some cases, caused the death of so many innocent people.

I deserve this… No… I deserve worse than this, imprisonment is a blessing compared to what the others got. I think to myself, my hands starting to tremble. At least my memories had started to return, though I am not so sure if that is a good thing.

Looking back into the mirror, I just glare at myself, loathing the person before me with every fiber of my being.

The Venmar approached, holding something in her hand that looked like a small gun, red crosses on the handle, and a glass vial of blue liquid chambered in a slot on the top of the device. It was a syringe gun, a device used to deliver shots and medication without the use of a needle.

"Hold still, this will help with repairing your muscles. They've become atrophied after spending nearly a year in stasis," said the medic. She pressed the syringe against my neck, pushing aside the suppressant collar. There was a click, and warmth bloomed from the injection point before fading quickly. There was no pain, just a slight warmth as the heated medication was shot into my body at nearly 60 miles per hour.

I felt so tired, even though I had just awoken from, apparently, a yearlong nap. Was it true though? Had I really spent a year asleep in some pod, being transported halfway across the galaxy? We are probably in the outer rim, a desolate place where only mining colonies and pirates roamed.

If that was the case then I had missed my birthday. I'm 20 now, though I don't feel like it really matters anymore.

The medic continued to run tests on me, making me take countless amounts of medication. Some were to help kill off any bacteria I might have brought with me, while some were to help my body recover from such a long trip. Eventually, she bathed me in UV light, killing off any germs or bacteria I might have brought with me.

I understood, they could not have an outbreak happen on the station. If we truly were in the outer rim, then it would take at least a year to get back to the core worlds, three months minimum if they had a ship with an advanced slip space engine.

"Alright, I've finished with everything I need to do here, Na'Vesca will escort you to be processed," explained the Venmar, tapping a few more times on her touch screen.

I nod solemnly, going to get out of the pod when pain flared up in my legs, making me stumble and wince noticeably.

"Perhaps we should get you a wheelchair," suggested the Venmar, gaze shifting over to one that was nearby against the wall.

"No... No, I'm fine," I say, pushing myself through the pain and hopping out of the pod. I wobbled for a second, a sharp ache shooting up my calves and threatening to make me collapse. I managed though, gritting my teeth and enduring it.

The doctor raised a brow, surprise evident on her face that I am managing to stand on my own. While it did hurt, and my mind feels exhausted, I can't deny that my body feels energized and ready to go, like I had just drunk my tenth cup of coffee and was high on caffeine. Maybe the caffeine patch had something to do with that?

"Very well, off you go then," she dismissed, waving her hand lazily in the direction of the door, going back to her data-pad and pouring over the information.

I turn my attention to the Kilnoid, Na'Vesca, who has been standing off to the side up until now. She had placed her helmet back on, the black metal and sleek green visor obscuring her face, the two triangle slots on the sides no doubt cradling her ears.

"Hands please," she says, stepping forward and unhooking two metal circles from her belt. I hold out my hands, fingers splayed, knowing what she's going to do.

She takes one of the circles and pulls on it, the piece of metal splitting into two half circles. She places one around my left wrist then does the same with the right. They look like big, silver, gaudy, bracelets, but with a tap to mini-computer built into the armor on her forearm, a band of blue light comes to life in the center of the rings. Upon activation, I instantly feel the pull of the high-powered magnetic cuffs. Na'Vesca pushes my hands together, the mag-cuffs jumping to one another with a sharp clang when they got close enough.

With that done, she leads me over to a door located at the back of the room, opposite an identical door on the other side. It opened up, sliding into the wall and revealing an elevator cab.

Stepping inside, Na'Vesca maneuvers herself behind me, and with another tap to her forearm, the doors close and the elevator begins to rise.

I hear a click, then a low thrum as something powers on behind me. My eyes go wide, body tensing. What had she just activated? Was it the plasma caster, or something else? Why would she be activating it! Did she plan to kill me, or beat me up?

"Relax, Hybrid, it's just a stun baton," she explained, "Don't act up and everything will be fine."

I glance over my shoulder at her and the large baton in her hands. It had a white shaft with black lines running up and down the length, another handle sticking out to the side for the baton to be used defensively. The top half was split down the center, making the shaft split off into a sort of two-pronged fork. I could see the electricity jumping from one prong to the other, hear it crackle and thrum with power.

I relax a little knowing that it was a stun baton, but I still remained attentive and alert. Or at least as alert as my exhausted brain would allow me.

"Though... if you want to start a fight I won't mind, been a while since I've had a brawl, though I doubt you'd be able to put up much of a fight." The smirk was audible in her voice, and I just shook my head, the following huff she lets out either one of disappointment or amusement. I'm not sure which.

Finally, we come to a stop, the doors sliding open and Na'Vesca pushing me through them and making me stumble. I can feel my knees wobble, the pain flaring up and biting at my muscles. It wasn't too bad as to be impossible to move, the painkillers the doctor had dosed me with helped a lot in keeping the pain to a minimum.

After steadying myself, I take a look around the room and had to do a double-take at what I saw. Red. Red, red, and even more red. At first, I didn't understand what I was seeing, then I looked closer and found that all the red was individual jumpsuits of varying sizes. There were indents in the wall where the jumpsuits were strung up on hangers, dangling from what looked like a conveyer belt.

However, jumpsuits were not the only article of clothing there was. There were separate conveyor belts built into the wall, some holding undergarments, others black boots and socks, all varying in design to fit their respective species.

The clothes were not the only thing that caught my attention. Jutting from the walls and ceilings were dozens upon dozens of circular disks on mechanical arms, two cone-shaped protrusions sticking out of them with glowing blue tips.

Security turrets, there is no doubt in my mind that that is what those are. What is confusing, however, is that there did not seem to be any cameras. Perhaps the turrets doubled as a monitoring system as well.

Walking further into the room seemed to make the turrets come to life, the disks swiveling on their metal arms and pointing in my direction. It was as if they were alive, tracking my every movement with uncanny precision.

"Don't worry about those," said Na'Vesca behind me, "They won't do anything so long as you stay in line."

"Not like I can do much of anything in this condition," I chuckle dryly.

She leads me over to one of the alcoves containing red jumpsuits, stopping and stepping away towards a control panel on the wall.

"Standing still with your arms out so the computer can get your measurements," said Na'Vesca, her face hidden beneath her helmet.

I was about to ask how I was supposed to move my arms when she tapped at her wrist-mounted computer, and with a beep, the cuffs demagnetized, allowing me the freedom to use my arms. I heard a whirring noise all around me, a high-pitched hum filling the room as nearly two dozen turrets charged their cannons. They extended outwards on their arms as they looked at me, prepared for anything I might do. They were like snakes, poised to strike should the need arise.

I stood, feet together, and arms out. A blue light appeared on the wall above me, a laser shining down and scanning my body from the floor up. It beeped once it finished and the conveyer belt of jumpsuits started to move, sifting through the many sizes before slowing and coming to a stop.

Na'Vesca plucked a suit from its hanger and tossed it to me. I caught it, feeling the soft material beneath my fingertips, but I didn't get to examine the suit for long, Na'Vesca leading me over to the next machine.

This being a female prison, the underwear, which thankfully looked like boxers, was paired with bras as well, for the convenience of the species that had breasts. The machine scanned me once more, and when it finally came to a stop, Na'Vesca once again plucked the article of clothing from the hangers. Thankfully she left the brassiere on the hook.

The same thing happened again with the boots and socks, the station's computer system scanning my figure and instantly providing a pair of footwear that would fit me perfectly.

"There are changing rooms right there," said Na'Vesca, gesturing off to the side towards several sliding, opaque, white doors. "Use one and change out of those old rags."

"R-Right," I nod, making my way over. The door slides open and I step inside, only to notice there was another turret in the room with me. It was smaller than the ones outside, hanging from the ceiling by its metal arm, far up in the corner of the room and watching me like a hawk.

I grimaced, not liking the idea of someone watching me as I changed. I've been seen naked before, mainly during my time with the R.O.F. It was unavoidable, the hideouts small, the living quarters limited. Just because I had to endure it, did not mean it made it okay.

I had little choice in this matter, however, so I just sucked it up.

I deposit my new clothes on the floor before taking the front zipper of my old, grey jumpsuit in hand and pulling it down. I shed the suit quickly, or at least as quickly as I can with my legs aching as much as they are.

Once down to my underthings I hesitate, shooting the turret a quick glance. It was still fixated on me, the glowing blue tips of its cones looking like eyes in the dim light. Eventually, I muster the courage and whisk the underwear down, quickly snatching the fresh pair from where it lay and slipping them on.

I shake off the feeling of being watched, continuing with changing, donning the new socks on my already bare feet. From there I took the red jumpsuit and pulled it on with a bit of difficulty, feeding my limbs through the respective holes and zipping it up.

The suit was rather comfortable, far softer and better fitting than my old one. Which had been loose and chaffed in... places.

I slip my feet into the boots and pull them up, the elastic laces automatically tightening to a comfortable fit.

Now finished, I exit the little cubicle, finding Na'Vesca leaning against the wall while tapping the screen on her forearm.

"What now?" I ask.

She looked up from her fiddling, eyeing me up and down before responding, "Go through one of those doors." She nodded to the back of the room where several white, metal doors lined the wall.

I look to the doors then back to her before heading over. The door was big, clearly made with larger people in mind, just like the rest of the station. It was a necessity for most modern alliance space stations, whether they be prisons, outposts, or command centers, to have large doorways to accommodate the larger races like Kilnoids and Skals.

I could feel what felt like hundreds of eyes on me, and taking a quick glance around I figured out why. Every single security turret was trained on me, watching, waiting, ready to spring into action should I do something stupid.

What is behind this door? My cell? Probably not, not here anyways. An interrogation room? Maybe it is a lab judging by the white door, though this place does seem to favor white as its main color. Are they running experiments on prisoners here! I have heard horror stories about prisons located in the outer rim, how they use the prisoners as test subjects for sick experimentations!

Was that it! Was I going to be experimented on, used as a guinea pig so some whack job can test out their insane ideas! That had to be it! It was a perfect idea, and no one would complain or care that horrible, criminal low lives were being put under inhuman experimentations!

I can hear the blood rushing to my ears, feel the beat of my quickening heart, every breath I take coming quicker, growing louder. The door seems to grow larger and larger with every step, looming over me like an inevitable force.

Then I was in front of it, the white slab of metal sliding up and out of the way. My eyes widen at what I see, my hands trembling and legs threatening to give out. Before me, inside the room, was… nothing. There was nothing. Just a room, with white glistening walls, floors, and ceilings, not a hint of dirty or grim to be seen.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, my shoulders sagging as my mind settled. I step into the room, looking around nervously. It was like I was inside a giant white cube, only a few light strips on the ceiling being enough to illuminate the whole area. Behind me comes the clang of metal on metal, followed by a click.

I yelped at the noise, whipping around to find the exit closed off. The door had shut and locked, melding with the wall so seamlessly it was like it was never there.

I swallow the lump in my throat, turning back around and fidgeting with my hands. It was quiet, just like the void in my dream, except this time I was surrounded by nothing but white.

I stood there, shifting my weight from one leg to another, gritting my teeth against the pain yet unable to stop myself. I had to move, had to keep my body moving so I remained distracted. Pain was the best way to do it, letting me focus on that rather than the deafening silence that would have driven my insane. I waited for something to happen, anything to happen! Yet nothing did.

It felt like hours had passed, but it could only have been a few minutes when, "Greetings, Jason Wilks. Welcome to the Artemis station," someone said, their voice projecting out and filling the entire room. They sounded almost human, their voice tinny and feminine yet monotone.

"W-Who are you! W-Where are you!" I exclaim, my head spinning as I look around the room rapidly. There was no one here but me, the room completely devoid of anyone else.

"I am the warden of this facility, your jailer," they responded calmly. It sounded like they were all around me, their voice loud but not shouting. "You may call me, Artemis."

Artemis? Like the station? That is a little weird.

"A-Alright, Artemis, where are you?" I ask confused, looking around the room and not spying any cameras or speakers, not even a turret was anywhere to be found.

"Where I am is of no consequence, but if you must know, I am everywhere."

"What is that suppose—"

"You are an interesting creature, Jason Wilks," she interrupts, "A Hybrid, half-human, half-Venmar. Your full name is Jason Aladora Wilks, and you are 20 years of age. At the age of eight, your parents died in a terrorist bombing of the Glazzstock National Mall on earth. Afterwards, your older cousin, Amelia Coraline Rhodes, gained custody of you."

"How… do you know this…" I whisper, still looking around the room desperately, trying to find anything that might explain the origin of the voice.

"I know everything about you, Jason Wilks. Like how at 14 you were a criminal long before anyone realized it. And how at 17, you went and joined that same terrorist group that had killed your parents."

Anger and indignation boiled up inside of me. I hated that no one believed me, that all anyone could ever see was the worst in me and never take a moment to consider my side of the story.

"I did not join them, they kidnapped me!" I shouted, hands balling into fists and shaking with anger! I glared around the room, wishing I had someone or something to direct my rage towards! "They stole me away during the night while my cousin was out working!"

"Yes, you said these same words in front of the court just before your sentencing. All lies I'm sure," she says dismissively, "Regardless of whether or not you were kidnapped, your criminal actions during that time should have landed you with the death sentence. Though some… outside interference, was able to weaken it to just life without parole."

Outside interference? What does that mean? She was right, however, I was the one who had done all those things, regardless of whether I had control over the situation or not. And sometimes I did, yet still, I went through with what those monsters demanded of me.

"It wasn't my fault…" I mumble, tears starting to come to my eyes as my anger all but evaporated, sadness and guilt taking its place. "It wasn't my fault… I couldn't… I wasn't able to…" My voice broke, becoming hoarse and strained as I tried to hold back from crying.

"It was your fault!" This time it did come as a shout, the slightest hint of anger seeming to slip into the monotone voice. "Terrorism, hacking, anarchy, arson, murder, kidnapping, blackmail, extortion, not to mention your two rather unsuccessful escapes from prior facilities! Need I go on, Jason Wilks!"

"N-No! N-- No…" I stutter, whipping at my face and trying to dry up the tears that had started to leak from my eyes.

"Very well," she sighs, calming back down, "I was confused at first when you were first delivered, wondering why a male was being sent here. However, after going over your file, I have determined that it was a simple mistake."

I look up at the wall in front of me, my brow knitting in confusion and asking, "I-It was?"

"Indeed, you were meant to be sent to the Apollo station, an all-male alien prison, my brother. Someone, most likely a human I suspect," she said, her voice gaining a sharp edge when mentioning humans, "Entered the wrong destination. Organics, always messing things up." She sounded annoyed at the situation rather than angry, though I am not sure whether that is good or bad.

"So, does that mean I'll be transferred again?" My question came out with far more disappointment in it than I had intended. I am just so tired, my brain feels exhausted and my body is in pain. The mere thought of being trapped in stasis again is making me feel sick, all I want to do is lay down and go to sleep and never wake up.

"Unfortunately no, Apollo station is on the other side of the galaxy, nearly a hundred thousand light-years away. Personally, I would love to shove you back into a stasis pod and ship you off for a two-year journey! Sadly, my higher-ups have denied me the funds and essentially told me to deal with it."

I couldn't help the surge of relief that welled up in my chest, a soft sigh escaping my lips. On one hand, I was glad I didn't have to go back into a stasis pod, on the other, however, I wasn't sure how to feel about spending the rest of my life in a prison full of alien women. Sure, it sounded like some kind of wet dream come true, but in actuality, it seemed horrifying! Women took up half the roster for most wanted criminals, and some of the most notorious pirates of the age are females too, like The Jackal and Red Herring.

I don't know what to think anymore, my mind is such a jumbled mess right now, so many emotions flowing through it. My legs are starting to ache even worse now, all the walking and standing having forced my muscles into action when they weren't ready. There's a light throbbing in my head, no doubt the start of an unwelcomed headache.

"I am going to be watching you closely, Jason Wilks. I control everything in this facility, I am Artemis, and I am always watching, always listening. I will know every step that you take, every breath you breathe, and every word you speak!" Artemis declared, her voice containing a bite of confidence and assurance.

It was strange, the way she spoke. In the beginning, she sounded robotic, monotone, but I had noticed that as we spoke, her tone started to change rapidly, more emotions seeping into her voice. Then it clicked. The strange way she had called humans 'organics' and had referred to herself as 'Artemis' as if she was actually the station itself. Her strange, monotone voice, slowly evolving with the conversation and the way she called another prison facility her 'brother.'

"You're an A.I, aren't you," I say, the question coming off as a statement. There was silence for a long moment, and for a second I thought that perhaps Artemis had left. If my hunch was correct, which I have no doubt it is, then she should be able to hear me regardless.

"I am impressed, not many people figure that out so quickly," Artemis finally responds, "You are correct, I am the artificial intelligence program known as, Artemis. As I said before, I am the station itself, and do, in fact, control everything."

"Anyone who has met as many A.I as I have would have been able to tell. Your speech evolved throughout our entire conversation, so did your tone and the emotions in which you communicated," I explained, shrugging it off like it wasn't that impressive. Which, if you have met as many A.I as I have, then it really is not. Once you know what to look for it is rather easy to notice the subtle things.

"Yes, with your background I'm sure you have met some of my less than legal brethren. But enough of this, I shall assign you a number and a cell now."

In the center of the room, a hole in the floor opened up, and rising out of it was a chair, similar in design to those you might see at the dentist. Attached to it were half a dozen mechanical arms with three claw-like fingers. A silver tray rested on another arm that extended from the base of the chair, four items spread across it evenly.

One was a syringe gun, a glass vial containing some unknown clear liquid slotted into the top chamber. Next was a scalpel, followed by an adhesive patch. The last thing on the tray was a small, metal disk, no bigger than a quarter.

"What… is this?" I ask nervously, taking a step back as I eyed the apparatus warily.

"It's just a simple surgery chair," Artemis explains, "You see, every prisoner on the Artemis station is implanted with an identification chip. It registers you into my systems and allows me to keep track of your whereabouts."

"So you want to cut me open and shove more metal inside my body, all so you can skip a little bit of paperwork and keep an eye on me?" I ask incredulously.

"Pretty much, now please, take a seat."

"What if I refuse?"

"If you refuse, then I will simply flood this chamber with sleeping gas and do the procedure while you are knocked out. There is no avoiding this, Jason Wilks."

"Alright, alright…" I sigh, nervously shuffling over to the chair. I perch myself on the edge of the seat.

"Whenever you are ready," she said.

I take a deep breath, holding it in for a second before letting it out slowly, trying to calm my nerves. This shouldn't be a big deal for me.. I've had my head split open and electronics shoved inside, a little identification chip shouldn't be that much of a problem! I touch the back of my head, where my skull meets my spine. I couldn't feel it, but I knew my neural implant was around there somewhere. Man do I miss my implants. Even if I hadn't gotten them voluntarily, I won't deny they are awesome to have.

"Okay, it's fine, you have implants, it's just like getting another one installed, that's all! No need to get scared!" I mumble to myself. Finally, I concede and swing my legs up, lying back and letting the chair cradle my frame.

The mechanical arms start to move, one going down towards the tray and retrieving the syringe gun while two more bend down towards me. My whole body tenses when they get close, their three-clawed pincers looking far more deadly up close. My fingers dig into the arms of the chair as one arm pinches the zipper of my jumpsuit between its claws, pulling it down halfway, the other arm pushing the suit aside to reveal my right shoulder.

The claw holding the syringe darted in so fast I did not have time to react! It pressed the barrel of the instrument against my shoulder and pulled the trigger. It didn't hurt, but there was a strange warming sensation that bloomed from the injection point. It faded quickly, getting swept away by a numbness that started to take over my shoulder.

The arm returned the syringe gun to its place on the tray, picking up the scalpel. The other two active arms retrieved the last two items, one holding the adhesive patch while the other gripped the identification chip.

"You won't feel a thing," Artemis reassured me, though it didn't help in the slightest.

Slowly, the arm with the scalpel drew closer, making me shut my eyes and grip the chair so tight that the faux leather beneath my fingers squeaked. I waited, readying myself to feel the bite of sharp metal cutting into my skin. A minute passed, then two, then three, yet nothing came.

"We are done," said Artemis.

"Huh?" I open my eyes, finding the mechanical arms no longer active. The syringe and scalpel were back in their original positions perfectly, as if they had never been moved. I look down at my shoulder, finding a small, white patch stuck to my skin.

"That's it?" I ask, dumbfounded. I was expecting to feel at least a bit of discomfort, but there had been nothing.

"That's it," confirmed Artemis, "I injected you with a numbing agent; it should wear off in a little bit."

"How come the medic that got me out of the stasis pod didn't do this?" I ask, zipping up my suit.

"I am the only one with access to identification chips, for… security reasons," she answered vaguely.

Sitting up and sliding off the chair, I take a few steps back as the multi-armed apparatus descends back into the floor. A door opened on the other side of the room, opposite of where I had entered… at least I think it was opposite. The room was nothing but one color, throwing off my sense of direction dramatically.

"X-1475," said Artemis.

"Um... what?" I ask confused.

"X-1475, that is the number I have assigned to you. Section X, tower 14, room number 75. Go through the door, the elevator will take you to your destination."

"O-Oh, r-right, um… Thanks?"

There's a pause for a moment, like Artemis couldn't find the words she needed, then, "You are… Welcome. Now go, I shall be watching you, Jason Wilks. Do not cause me too much trouble."

I nod, unsure whether or not she could actually see me. I made my way over to the door, slipping inside the elevator. It was huge on the inside, for an elevator that is, most likely to accommodate the larger species. The walls are made of thick glass and with a quick glance around, I find there is no control panel or keypad.

There is a hiss from behind me, and looking back, I find the door sliding shut, once closed, the elevator shifts and begins to rise smoothly. I sigh and lean back against the wall, sliding down till I plant myself on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. It hurt, bending my legs like this, but I didn't care, the slight comfort it brought being well worth it.

"It's ok, everything will be ok…" I try to console myself, to take away some of the weight that was pressing down on my shoulders. Sometimes I wish I could just melt through the floor and disappear, leave behind the world and just… sleep.

It's like I have extreme jetlag, which, technically, I did. Artemis and the doctor had confirmed our location, even if they hadn't said the words exactly. It takes about a year to travel from the core worlds, mainly Earth and Lua, the homeworld of the Venmar, to the outer rim. It is going to take a long time for my inner clock to sync up with however the Artemis station runs.

It is funny really, how I ended up here, how my entire life has been one disaster after another. It would make a pretty good book I bet, it has all the main things a tragic hero needs. Dead parents, tragic back story, a life of crime, trauma that the hero has to learn to deal with. That is when the healing process is supposed to begin, right? Our hero learns the error of his ways, decides to turn over a new leaf, heals their scars, and then hooks up with the hot chick that was there throughout the entire series, and then boom! The end, everyone lives happily ever after.

"Not in this fairy tale," I sigh, letting my head rest against my knees.

After what feels like hours of traveling up and up through the station, warm light suddenly shines into the compartment, brightening the cab considerably more. I have to shield my eyes, one hand coming up to block out the light while I used the other to help drag myself to my shaking feet. I blink a few times, my eyes slowly adjusting to the sudden change in brightness.

"What the…" I gasp, the view before me no longer the grey metal walls of the elevator shaft. Through the transparent walls of the elevator cab, stretched out before me, is a massive courtyard, easily the size of one of those mega stadiums back on earth.

High above was a massive domed ceiling made of glass or some other transparent material. What caught my attention most of all, however, was the large patches of greenery. They were everywhere, scattered across the white floor far below me, like little islands decorating a white sea.

Patches of trees and grass, some alien, some not. Small pools of water, rock formations, waterfalls, and… people. Hundreds, upon hundreds of people, all wearing the same red colored jumpsuit as myself. All prisoners. It was a flowing sea of red as people mingled and moved about, all of them too far below for me to make out any details of their figures.

Near the center of the courtyard lay a roughly circular-shaped island of greenery with a large pond at its center. A rocky cliff face halfway encircled the pond, and from this height, it looked like a crescent moon. From the rock face flowed a small waterfall, the crystal clear water cascading down into the pool beneath.

I press my hand to the glass, my eyes wide and heart longing. It has been so long since I've last seen a tree… of any type of nature really. I want to reach out and touch them, to feel the rough bark beneath my palm, to feel the smooth grass between my toes. Perhaps they have simulated breezes, or maybe the air is still and stale like on the rest of the station. I don't care, I just want to feel something of home.

Then it was gone, whisked away by the ever-rising elevator, the walls transitioning back to the grey metal of the elevator shaft. Something inside me diminished, my heart falling into my stomach as the first glimpse of something real was stolen away.

The elevator slowed, it was almost imperceptible, but it was there, the slightest hint of deceleration before finally, it came to a stop. The door of the elevator cab split in two, a seam running down the center, like a large crack in the wall. The two parts slid away, curving around the outside of the cab and opening up to reveal a long hallway lined with doors easily a good two to three feet taller than my five-eight frame.

I stepped out, wary of my surroundings even though I could see all the way to the end of the empty hall. I looked at the door on my immediate right, the large, white slab of metal decorated with a grey, honeycomb-patterned hexagon in the center, two red lines connecting the hexagon to the top and bottom of the door. Above it was a digital plaque, the words "Prisoner X-1499" scrolling past, followed closely by "Vail Orna Akar Ta'Velkor."

It was easy to deduce that the resident of this room was a Skal, they were the only race who had such long, drawn-out names.

"What did she say my room number was again?" I ask no one, trying to remember what the A.I Artemis had told me. "Oh, right, 75."

I began to walk, scanning the doors and looking at the plaques above them to see which room was which and who occupied where. I moved on quickly, ignoring the names and just focusing on the numbers. The rooms counted down from right to left, or up from left to right, depending on which way you were going, so it was rather easy to just count down from 99 as I went.

"78… 77… 76… 75!" I counted, coming to a stop in front of one of the near one hundred identical doors that lined the corridor. "Prisoner X-1475" scrolled past on the plaque above the door, my name… my… full name, "Jason Aladora Wilks", taking its place.

Moving to stand right in front of the door, a seam in the center formed and split open, the two parts sliding into the wall.

Stepping inside, I am not greeted by any out of the place strangeness, instead, it was simple, the bare minimum, something that was all too familiar for me. A toilet and sink in one corner to the left, and a simple bed resting in the center of the wall on the right, made up with sheets and a comforter, both, of course, white.

Though, perhaps there is a little bit of strangeness to the room, like the fact that the bed was big enough to hold at least four or five average-sized people while the toilet and sink seemed to be made for human use! Or like the fact that the back wall was actually a massive window looking out into space!

Peering out the massive, wall-sized window, I see thousands of twinkling stars, countless asteroids, tumbling end over end, and a strange alien planet far below. Risky to have a space station located inside an asteroid belt, but also a good deterrent for anyone who thought of escape.

The planet below looked inhospitable, its surface tan and brown, tiny speckles of blue dotting the landscape. It was no doubt a desert planet, the very few dots of blue most likely oasis' that would dry up in time.

I drag myself over to the bed, the very sight of it making my eyes droop. However, before I climb into it, I notice a small panel built into the wall next to the head of the bed. On it was five buttons, each one engraved with a simplified silhouette of a head, from the top to the bottom there appeared to be a Kilnoid, Skal, Silistain, Asta, and Venmar. Currently, a blue light highlighted the Kilnoid's symbol.

Curious as to its function, I press the symbol with the Skal's head on it. There was a deep thunk from beneath the floor followed by a soft whirring of gears. The bed, to my surprise, started to lower down into the floor, only for another one to come up and take its place. It was strange, however, because it was not a bed but rather a large hammock made of some kind of synthetic weave.

"Well then… that's… interesting," I say dumbfounded, a little surprise that a prison would be nice enough to accommodate for something like sleeping arrangements.

Now understanding how it worked, I pressed the Venmar symbol, thinking since I'm part Venmar, and that they are closest to a human in height, the bed would fit me the best. To my utter disbelief, however, I was forced to take a few steps back as a circle-shaped bed, easily capable of fitting at least half a dozen people with room to spare, emerged from the floor. There were at least a dozen or so pillows strewn about, the bed made up of mostly thick blankets covering a thin mattress.

I wasn't entirely sure what to think about that, for being half Venmar I really didn't know much about that side of my heritage. Regardless, the bed was far too big for just me. Hesitantly, I press the Asta symbol, the second species closest to human height. The large, circle mattress disappeared into the floor, and in its place, at last, was a bed of relatively normal size.

I don't hesitate, kicking off my boots with some difficulty and crawling onto the bed. I lay back, resting my head on the single pillow, letting my body sink into the first real mattress I have laid on in almost a year.

It was… bliss… The sheets crisp and soft, the comforter thick and warming, the mattress soft but not yielding, the pillow the best thing I have ever laid my head on. Though I think the high praise only comes from the fact I'm so tired. I could have cared less if the bed was just a blanket stretched over a wireframe, so long as I had something to lay down and sleep on.

I closed my eyes, mind drifting into the unknown. This darkness was a welcomed sight, unlike the one in my stasis-induced nightmare. Here it was warm, here it was safe. Thankfully, it was not silent, for I could hear the low thrum of the station as its reactors kept the multi-million ton space station powered. Sleep was my escape from this world and the pain it brought, and soon enough, everything went dark.