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A refugee Ferret who has only recently found somewhere to call home begins the story of how she got there. This tale goes into background of a series started in “Sixth Ship To Planet Dirt” located here: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/24212153/
This is a submission to the Thursday Prompt writing group. This week's prompt was the word ‘autumn.’ Check out the group's user page here: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/thursdayprompt/ And the other stories generated from this prompt here: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/24936013/
X--- PREV| FIRST | NEXT --->
Before Planet Dirt: Part 1: We Had Such A Lovely Home
By: DankeDonuts
https://www.furaffinity.net/user/dankedonuts/
It was a hot, dry autumn on Brydun VI. Indian Summer, the humans used to call it on their world. Oh, I know that’s where my ancestors hailed from. Where all our ancestors once called home. But Earth was never my world. I’ve never been there. I don’t think I’d even be allowed to set foot on it, now. Except as part of some prison-ship work detail.
Did they know? The ancestors of mine who decided to recraft themselves into Ferrets, I mean. Did they know that their distant descendants would someday look around the humans in their midst and see aliens? Be seen as aliens? Lesser things? Genetic traitors?
I prefer to think they knew exactly what they were doing. That they saw the divisiveness, the hate, the blind self-righteousness inherent in humankind. And decided to abandon a rotten genome the moment the tech existed to make any other option possible. Mustelids from a sinking ship. Goodbye and good riddance!
That’s cruel of me to say, isn’t it? Maybe even bigoted. I don’t know. I try to teach my kits not to hate. But why do so many of them have to make it so hard?
Where was I? Ah, yes. The too-warm autumn. That’s when the moving around started, for us. My husband, Shollo. Our son, Eskoo. And daughter, Keesha. My name is Tovi Kaidis. I am recording this for the Planet Dirt Heritage Foundation. Mine is just one story of many. One for every being who lives here now.
My kits aren’t old enough to remember when we lost our house. The one left to us by my grandmother. On the edge of Neo Nebra. The whole colony world was going through a boon of beryllium mining, and the local government wanted to expand starport operations. That was the what they said on the holonews, anyway. Never mind that ‘those operations’ went through a number of mostly Fur and Scalie neighborhoods. That was just an unfortunate coincidence, of course.
We passed on the first round of land buys. There was a minor scandal when rumors started spreading that the Humans who sold their land got a better deal than the rest of us. But nothing ever came of it. When the second land grab started, they upped their starting offers for everyone. Up to what the humans apparently got the first time around. Shollo and I started mailing back the mailers they sent us. Shredded.
That’s when the developers started putting the screws to those of us that weren’t going to sell at all. The megacorp behind the starport plans, DyMech Industries, underbid all the other contractors to take over the basic infrastructure work in the area. And promptly stopped doing any. Supply stoppages, cost of living increases, any excuse they could scrape out of the barrel. The absolute best one, which some slimebag in a suit and hardhat had the nerve to say to my face was that if we’d just move out and let them build the damn port than there’d be all the metal in the world to rebuild the sewer line!
As neighborhood after neighborhood degraded, crime went up. There was an elderly Komodo couple, who lived up the hill from us. I thought they were going to die roped to their house of that’s what it took to keep hold of it. But they walked away after their visiting granddaughter someone was cut up during a mugging attempt. The rest of us set up a neighborhood watch after that. DyMech responded by spreading rumors in the press that we were intimidating their surveyors. Started lobbying to have our beam pistol permits revoked.
Shollo lost his job when the diner closed. Our kits were weaned, though, so I was able to make ends meet by doing repair jobs while he looked for something steady. I was a computer tech before I set it aside to raise the kits. And computers are in everything, always have been, so it’s steady work. It didn’t take him long to find a new place to cook at, being a boom economy and all. There were plenty of restaurants and hotels opening up in the city proper. But I never really stopped doing the side jobs, because there was always someone else near us who needed something fixed. All the local shops were drying up.
Once the area reached a ‘minimum threshold population,’ I think those were the words, the situation changed again. Much for the worse. The phrase ‘eminent domain’ started being bandied around on the holonews. Four years to the day that the port was first proposed at City Hall, the legislation which handed our property to DyMech on a gilded platter landed on Governor Tasniam’s desk.
When he signed it, he was surrounded by eager construction workers. All of them human, like him. There had been some Furs in the relevant government office, but they’d all resigned in protest by then. Tasniam took his time signing, though. Made a speech about how he’d secured a last-minute buyout period from DyMech. Translation: ‘Take their creds and go peacefully so I don’t have to blow taxpayer funds siccing the police on you for squatting. I have poll numbers to watch out for.”
In the end, we received a cred-flim for less than a third of the Round One offer. I wanted to claw out the face of the very polite little man who passed it over.
It was a long, sweltering evening when we hitched the last of our things to the cargo sled. Eskoo and Keesha got one last walking lesson in the front yard. From the patio to the curb, where we lifted them up into our speeder. They were both fussy getting into their toddler webbing, because of the heat. Hover-wreckers were parked in the lot over. Waiting without patience for us all to get out of our way. He drove the kits, I drove the sled. Up around the hills and away.
We had such a lovely little house. With a big bay window up front and a cozy little kitchen in back. A spacious basement, where we used to host game nights with our friends. An old, old willow tree took up much of the back yard. It was just a short walk from a lovey park that overlooked a river a short cliff. Where you could stand and see the sparkling water below and the seven planetary rings above. Feel the wind in the grass tickling your toes. And at night, you could always see one of the Pleiades. So blue, so beautiful…
Sorry. I didn't mean to cry.
Can we continue this later?
X--- PREV| FIRST | NEXT --->
This is a submission to the Thursday Prompt writing group. This week's prompt was the word ‘autumn.’ Check out the group's user page here: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/thursdayprompt/ And the other stories generated from this prompt here: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/24936013/
X--- PREV| FIRST | NEXT --->
Before Planet Dirt: Part 1: We Had Such A Lovely Home
By: DankeDonuts
https://www.furaffinity.net/user/dankedonuts/
It was a hot, dry autumn on Brydun VI. Indian Summer, the humans used to call it on their world. Oh, I know that’s where my ancestors hailed from. Where all our ancestors once called home. But Earth was never my world. I’ve never been there. I don’t think I’d even be allowed to set foot on it, now. Except as part of some prison-ship work detail.
Did they know? The ancestors of mine who decided to recraft themselves into Ferrets, I mean. Did they know that their distant descendants would someday look around the humans in their midst and see aliens? Be seen as aliens? Lesser things? Genetic traitors?
I prefer to think they knew exactly what they were doing. That they saw the divisiveness, the hate, the blind self-righteousness inherent in humankind. And decided to abandon a rotten genome the moment the tech existed to make any other option possible. Mustelids from a sinking ship. Goodbye and good riddance!
That’s cruel of me to say, isn’t it? Maybe even bigoted. I don’t know. I try to teach my kits not to hate. But why do so many of them have to make it so hard?
Where was I? Ah, yes. The too-warm autumn. That’s when the moving around started, for us. My husband, Shollo. Our son, Eskoo. And daughter, Keesha. My name is Tovi Kaidis. I am recording this for the Planet Dirt Heritage Foundation. Mine is just one story of many. One for every being who lives here now.
My kits aren’t old enough to remember when we lost our house. The one left to us by my grandmother. On the edge of Neo Nebra. The whole colony world was going through a boon of beryllium mining, and the local government wanted to expand starport operations. That was the what they said on the holonews, anyway. Never mind that ‘those operations’ went through a number of mostly Fur and Scalie neighborhoods. That was just an unfortunate coincidence, of course.
We passed on the first round of land buys. There was a minor scandal when rumors started spreading that the Humans who sold their land got a better deal than the rest of us. But nothing ever came of it. When the second land grab started, they upped their starting offers for everyone. Up to what the humans apparently got the first time around. Shollo and I started mailing back the mailers they sent us. Shredded.
That’s when the developers started putting the screws to those of us that weren’t going to sell at all. The megacorp behind the starport plans, DyMech Industries, underbid all the other contractors to take over the basic infrastructure work in the area. And promptly stopped doing any. Supply stoppages, cost of living increases, any excuse they could scrape out of the barrel. The absolute best one, which some slimebag in a suit and hardhat had the nerve to say to my face was that if we’d just move out and let them build the damn port than there’d be all the metal in the world to rebuild the sewer line!
As neighborhood after neighborhood degraded, crime went up. There was an elderly Komodo couple, who lived up the hill from us. I thought they were going to die roped to their house of that’s what it took to keep hold of it. But they walked away after their visiting granddaughter someone was cut up during a mugging attempt. The rest of us set up a neighborhood watch after that. DyMech responded by spreading rumors in the press that we were intimidating their surveyors. Started lobbying to have our beam pistol permits revoked.
Shollo lost his job when the diner closed. Our kits were weaned, though, so I was able to make ends meet by doing repair jobs while he looked for something steady. I was a computer tech before I set it aside to raise the kits. And computers are in everything, always have been, so it’s steady work. It didn’t take him long to find a new place to cook at, being a boom economy and all. There were plenty of restaurants and hotels opening up in the city proper. But I never really stopped doing the side jobs, because there was always someone else near us who needed something fixed. All the local shops were drying up.
Once the area reached a ‘minimum threshold population,’ I think those were the words, the situation changed again. Much for the worse. The phrase ‘eminent domain’ started being bandied around on the holonews. Four years to the day that the port was first proposed at City Hall, the legislation which handed our property to DyMech on a gilded platter landed on Governor Tasniam’s desk.
When he signed it, he was surrounded by eager construction workers. All of them human, like him. There had been some Furs in the relevant government office, but they’d all resigned in protest by then. Tasniam took his time signing, though. Made a speech about how he’d secured a last-minute buyout period from DyMech. Translation: ‘Take their creds and go peacefully so I don’t have to blow taxpayer funds siccing the police on you for squatting. I have poll numbers to watch out for.”
In the end, we received a cred-flim for less than a third of the Round One offer. I wanted to claw out the face of the very polite little man who passed it over.
It was a long, sweltering evening when we hitched the last of our things to the cargo sled. Eskoo and Keesha got one last walking lesson in the front yard. From the patio to the curb, where we lifted them up into our speeder. They were both fussy getting into their toddler webbing, because of the heat. Hover-wreckers were parked in the lot over. Waiting without patience for us all to get out of our way. He drove the kits, I drove the sled. Up around the hills and away.
We had such a lovely little house. With a big bay window up front and a cozy little kitchen in back. A spacious basement, where we used to host game nights with our friends. An old, old willow tree took up much of the back yard. It was just a short walk from a lovey park that overlooked a river a short cliff. Where you could stand and see the sparkling water below and the seven planetary rings above. Feel the wind in the grass tickling your toes. And at night, you could always see one of the Pleiades. So blue, so beautiful…
Sorry. I didn't mean to cry.
Can we continue this later?
X--- PREV| FIRST | NEXT --->
Category Story / All
Species Ferret
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 249 kB
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