OUTCAST
BY RAZOR DA WOLF

PROLOGUE

The late twenty-first century brought a number of amazing revolutions in science. One of 
them happened to be the understanding of genetic manipulation. Scientists quickly got 
involved in experiments with this new science. It didn't take long for hybrids to be born. Furs, 
a mixture of human and animal DNA, entered into the world. Most were gentle and peace 
loving, not caring for the violent human pursuits, but history has shown that science has a 
tendency to be perverted in the wrong hands. Genetic warriors were spawned, nations pitting 
them against entire armies. And so a stigma was born. The United Nations condemned all 
genetic deviants, and human armies around the world turned on the helpless furs. Thousands 
were killed. Recoiling from the shock of being attacked, the furry communities banded 
together and formed a global resistance. Striking back hard and fast using tactics best suited 
to their individual natures, they still made little progress, and were forced into remission. 
Hiding underground in huge well-defended cities they built themselves, venturing to the 
surface only to scavenge for technology they could not produce themselves, they survived 
and worked towards freedom for all species. Whole cities on the surface were left 
abandoned. The human armies patrolled these regularly, keeping a tight reign over the 
surface, not bothering to venture underground. Our story starts here, in the city above a city. 
Below is New Luras, a central base and city for the furry resistance. Almost two decades ago, 
the city above the ground was a bustling happy place. That changed when the war began.

<~>

Razor groaned softly, trying to sit up. A cold breeze rushed through the storm drain and he 
hugged his body, shivering. His fur was damp and dirty and didn't offer him much protection 
against the icy zephyr. Sitting up slowly, brushing at his eyes, he shook off the last remnants 
of sleep, groaning again as he shifted his weight and felt the muscle in his left arm scream in 
protest. Crawling slowly, he propped himself up against the one side of the storm drain, 
cradling his arm against his chest and sighing. He looked down at the dirty and bloodied 
bandage around it, then shifted again, pulling his legs up to his chest, wrapping his tail 
around his footpaws to try and keep warm. Slowly, using painstaking care, he tugged at the 
bandage, easing it off. He flinched as the wound beneath it felt the bite of the cold air. 
Groaning again, he placed his other paw tiredly over the wound, closing his eyes. He tried to 
concentrate, to direct some sort of healing into it, but he was too tired. He was so hungry, 
and exhausted. 

He chuckled weakly and spoke to himself, "Well at least there's water to drink here. I won't 
die of thirst." He shook his head and looked down again, cradling the arm. He let out a long 
painful sigh, trying to think back.

<~>

Energy blasts echo through the streets, lighting up the dark night sky. Screams of terror, the 
sounds of fighting. A small otter pup, cowering in a dark alley, eeping fearfully. A dark 
shadow falls across his body. A snarling, sickly grin from a human soldier, the moon glinting 
in his rifle's metal as he raises it and aims at the otter pup's head. The pup stares at him with 
large, innocent, unknowing eyes, reaching out to him with little paws, craving comfort and 
calling in a pleading little chirp. The soldier chuckles and starts to squeeze the trigger, then a 
puzzled look crosses his face and he falls forward. Behind him a big white wolf stands, 
holding a blaster. He kneels down and checks the soldier, then looks up at the scared little 
pup and smiles softly, holding out his arms. The pup chirps and scampers forward to the 
wolf, shivering in his arms. The wolf whispers soft and reassuring words into the pup's ear, 
hefting him up. He turns, running from the alley as more sounds of gunfire echo across the 
city. The otter pup murrs softly, clutching at the warm chest fur of the wolf carrying him. 
Exhaustion soon takes hold of the pup and flings him into the darkness of sleep.

<~>

A young otter, barely 14, walks down a long corridor, an underground complex. He wears 
only a blue bandana, tied around his neck and resting in his golden chest. His muscular, 
brown-furred body moves with ease, almost gliding down the corridor. He reaches a door, 
and pushes it open, immediately greeted by a bustling noise. A white wolf bent over a table 
studying maps looks up and smiles, waving a paw.

"Razor! Come over here my young friend." The otter smiles softly, his eyes displaying the 
great affection he feels for the wolf. There are others in the room, mostly clad in coveralls, 
working at computer stations and studying charts. The otter chuckles, wondering how they 
can stand wearing all those heavy clothes, and pads over to the table where the wolf stands.

"Morning Rigel. What are we doing today?" The otter rests a deft paw on the table, studying 
the plans, trying to look grown up. 

The wolf smiles at him, ruffling his headfur playfully. "You are not doing anything. You're 
staying here in the command post." Rigel grins as he studies Razor's body. "You really should 
wear more clothes Raz. Some of the females will be starting to notice you soon."

Razor blushes and grins "I like this. its comfy. Clothes are so stuffy and hot."

Rigel chuckles and shakes his head, shrugging "Fine. you're your own fur. Just take care of 
yourself. Now, today I'm going out on a routine scan of the city. Promise me you'll stay here 
and be good, okay? I'll be back round about six. Make sure you're at home when I get back, 
okay?"

Razor snickers and nods "Yes dad."

The wolf leans down and kisses the young otter between the eyes, then hefts his rifle and 
makes for the door. Razor waves, then goes to find something to occupy himself.

<~>

Rigel never came back. His team's signal had been lost a good hour after they had left. Razor 
was inconsolable. He stayed in his room and sobbed his heart out for months. The otter's 
surrogate parent had been all he had ever had. The others tried to comfort him, but nothing 
helped. He had known that this might happen, war was never easy. but then, war was all he 
had ever known. Every single fur in the complex took turns to spend time with him, fearing 
he might take his life if left alone. Before long, he became the adopted mascot of the rebels. 
A kindly old bear, Taskur, took Rigel's place as leader of the resistance. He knew the most 
about the Old World, what it had been like before the war, and Razor received lessons from 
him now and again. Slowly, very slowly, the chasm in Razor's heart started to knit, and he 
ventured out of his quarters now and again to spar in the practice room or to get something 
to eat. Eventually, he found he could face life again, and returned to the command center. 
The pain still stabbed at him, when he thought back and remembered how many times he 
had come in to see Rigel working, but he knew he couldn't just cower in a corner. And 
besides. he wanted to make Rigel proud.

<~>

Razor grew and learned much in a few short years. At 16 he had mastered basic hand to 
hand combat and had sneaked an attempt at the arcane arts, much to Taskur's rage. The 
bear relented eventually and let Razor pursue his interests when it became obvious that the 
little otter had a talent for it. On the day of his eighteenth birthday, he was presented with a 
silver staff, something the base smith had worked on for a good couple of months. As Rigel 
had predicted, he soon became the target of many of the females on the base. He was forced 
to admit that his choice of appearance did have its shortcomings, when women constantly 
tried to brush against his groin. When they, did he simply smiled and shrugged. He had no 
interest in them, something he never admitted to another person. One night, he lay awake, 
staring at the ceiling, wondering what had made him different from all the others. He was 
afraid of what he might be, and he knew the rumours that were circulated by the women that 
were sore about being brushed off like they had been. He just wondered if maybe they were 
right. maybe he was gay?

<~>

The cold wind whistled through the drain again and he shivered. The pain dug at his heart 
and he started to sob. They had cast him out so viciously when he had revealed his secret. 
Their faces, twisted masks of derision, faces that had once been friendly and caring towards 
him. And now he was alone; injured and scared. 

Looking up, he stared out the grating that covered the drain's entrance. He had managed to 
drag it back into place after he had crawled in here. Now he looked past it, staring out at the 
desolate city, so quiet, so uncaring. A crack of thunder blasted across his ears, amplified by 
the drain, and was soon followed by a steady downpour of rain. The small trickle that ran 
down the center of the drain swelled, and soon a stream of water flowed over his footpaws. 
He gasped from the cold, grabbing down at his staff and holding it against him, not wanting 
to lose his last connection to his old life. Holding it tight, he was slightly reassured, and he 
clutched it like a security blanket.

The full storm broke quickly and soon water gushed over him, chilling him to the bone. His 
normally waterproof fur was dirty, and did not function as it was supposed to. Drenched and 
shivering, he strapped his arm to his chest, then moaned and kicked the grating away, 
hopping to the ground outside the drain. His shelter for the day was gone now. but night 
was fast approaching. He could hide better in the dark. Moaning and leaning heavily on the 
staff, he limped up the stone steps that lead to the street above the pier. Straining his ears, 
he searched for any sign of danger, then crossed the street, whimpering to himself softly. In 
this state he would not be able to run. or to defend himself, if the humans found him. He 
had barely escaped the first time, but the wounds they had inflicted would be sufficient to 
make the second encounter a quick capture. or kill. He shook his head, pushing away the 
depressed thoughts that threatened to drag him under. He looked up at the dark sky, its 
angry clouds seeming to condemn him. He dropped his ears, tears welling in his eyes and 
mingling with the rain that fell on his face. So so alone.

<~>

"DAMN IT TASKUR! He's just a kid!" Roan paced the command center, yelling at the bear in a 
blatant show of insubordination. His turned to face the ursine commander, his foxy muzzle 
snarling.

Taskur's grey face turned away, his body beginning to show his age. "Child or not, Roan, I 
cannot allow our forces to be weakened by someone like that."

"WEAKENED!? Fuck Taskur, that kid is one of the strongest furs I know. You're a prejudiced 
old bastard! Just because he's gay, that doesn't mean he's a pansy! There are sure to be 
other gay furs in the force even right now. You of all furs know the stats, 10%. Damnit 
Taskur, let me go find him, please!"

The old bear crossed his arms and drew himself to his full height, towering above the fox. 
"Captain, my word is final here. He remains an outcast until he renounces his ways."

Roan smashed his paw into the wall "Gods you are an idiot. Didn't you listen to one word he 
said? Do you REALLY think he would have CHOSEN this pain!? Bugger you Taskur, bugger 
you!"

With that Roan stormed from the command center. Taskur slumped into a chair, putting a 
paw over his eyes. Sighing loudly, he looked up and scowled at all the furs watching him still. 
They all jumped and returned to their work.


Roan loped down the corridors, grumbling loudly to himself "Fucking old bastard. Impotent 
idiot. he's going to get us all killed!" He barked loudly at someone in his way and the fur 
blanched visibly, scurrying away quickly. Flicking his fluffy red tail angrily, he suppressed a 
tear at the thought of his old friend. "I'm sorry Rigel, I can't do anything." Suddenly he 
stopped in mid stride and pricked his ears up, an idea growing in his head. "DAMN Taskur, 
I'm going out there!"

He stormed into the old hangar; his sonic-rifle slung over his shoulder and a tight black 
leather jacket zipped up over his white chest fur. Stopping and pointing to the engineering 
fur on duty, he barked "OPEN THE DOORS!" before running over to his scout cycle and 
putting on his helmet. 

The raccoon at the controls stood staring at him, before voicing his opinion "I'm sorry sir, but 
we have no orders."

Roan spun round so quickly the raccoon nearly wet himself. "Bugger the orders! I'm going 
out there! If I have to, I'll blow them open myself." Roan reached for the missile controls, 
and the raccoon jumped and flicked the switch. The hangar doors opened, letting in a gust of 
cold, windswept rain. Roan pulled down the helmet's visor, started the cycle and roared out 
of the complex.

<~>

Razor huddled under the overhang of a collapsed building. It offered very little protection 
from the cold wind, but it did at least keep off the rain. He could hear the engines of the 
human patrols, and he crouched low, curling up into a tight little ball and whimpering softly. 
Pain still teased at his nerves, and over it all, the overriding tiredness sucked all his strength 
away. Closing his eyes, curling tighter, his mind slowly slipped away, and he slept, hoping he 
wasn't discovered.


A sharp brilliant pain in his side wrenched him from sleep as he tumbled over, slamming 
against a fallen brick wall. He groaned and coughed, gasping for air.

A derisive voice bore down on him "Aww. is the little otter scum tired?" Another swift kick to 
his side, throwing him to the floor, twisting in agony. He opened his eyes slowly, trying hard 
to focus through the roaring pain. An angry face glared at him, camouflage uniform below 
that. He groaned and tried to claw his way out of range but the soldier stepped closer and 
wrenched him upright by the scruff, pulling roughly and digging his fingers in painfully. Razor 
tried to yelp and twist away from the cruel grip, tears springing to his eyes. The soldier 
laughed and dragged him out from the building, yanking on his scruff and pulling his arms 
into a painful position each time he tried to resist. He suddenly found himself surrounded by 
eight grinning marines. Their grins turned to roaring laughter as the one that was holding 
him threw him to the floor. Razor groaned from the pain, rolling slowly onto his back and 
gasping for breath, his eyes shut tightly. Instinctively he brought his tail up to protect his 
groin, but on of them grabbed it harshly, yanking hard and causing him to whimper in pain. 

Looking up with tear filled eyes at his captors he pleaded in a low weak voice "please. 
don't."

This brought a fresh uproar of laughter, and one stepped forward, grabbing his headfur and 
pulling his head up so he was looking straight into his torturer's eyes. "Why should we you 
furry little bastard? Half human scum like you don't deserve to live." He let Razor go and 
stepped back. "So guys. do we waste this one?"

Razor whimpered and tried to curl up, "please. don't kill me."

The was suddenly an unsure voice "I dunno guys. this one looks like just a kid. he's barely 
eighteen. they aren't all bad you know. Just the ones trained for killing."

The other soldiers burst out laughing, slapping the younger soldier who has spoken on the 
back "You'll learn private. the less of them there are the better, no matter what they are or 
what they do. Wha' the fu."

A sudden roar from behind Razor somewhere cut off the soldiers' laughter and a flaming 
bullet punched a hole in the ground nearby, followed by the thud of a body. Razor twisted, 
opening his eyes and looking up at the young human soldier who had frozen in fear. It was 
obvious this was a rebel raid, and Razor slowly regained his senses. This must have been the 
first time the young soldier was in battle, because he had gone snow white and was not 
moving a whisker. Razor heard the roaring of a gun again and suddenly reached up and 
pulled the soldier down onto him, just as the fiery bullets flew through the space where the 
human had been standing. Groaning in pain as the human fell onto his wounded arm, Razor 
held back the tears and fear as the soldier stared down into his eyes, his own eyes filled with 
surprise.

"You. you saved me." 

Razor couldn't answer, the pain flooding too quickly through his body. The soldier realised 
why and rolled of, crouching next to him. "Are you okay?"

Another roar of gunfire, then the gruff voice of a human "ALEX!!! What are you doing you 
idiot?! Kill the fuck and get your ass over here, we have to go!" 

The young soldier looked up, then back down at Razor, brushing a hand across Raz's brow 
then leaning in and whispering. "Lie still like you're dead." He drew his knife and pushed it 
between Razor's chest and arm, leaving it there and getting up, running from the gunfire. 
Razor did as he was told, and lay very still, listening to the receding noise of the human 
vehicle. Then the sound of fast footpaw falls.

"RAZOR!? Are you okay?" A fox voice.

Razor groaned unhappily and coughed, trying to get up and move away. Strong paws gripped 
him and shook him gently. "Its okay Raz, I'm here to help you." 

The otter just moaned and looked up, tear-filled eyes shimmering. "Roan? Is that. you?"

Strong arms hugged him close and he flinched as his arm yelled at him. The hug softened 
and a gentle paw explored his body, checking for injuries. "No broken bones. but you're 
going to be sore for a long time yet. Those bastards. Its okay Raz, I'm here now, let's get 
you back to the complex."

"But. Roan, I'm gay." Razor hung his head, looking down at his injured arm.

The fox suddenly went serious and looked ponderously at Razor. "And that makes you a 
worse person? Just because you find men attractive? Come on you silly otter, you need help, 
that arm looks nasty." Roan picked him up gently, and Razor cringed in pain. Gently carrying 
him to the bike, he seated the otter in front of himself, taking off his jacket and putting it 
around the shivering form. Then he climbed onto the bike and started it, just as Razor tried 
to turn.

"My. my staff. in the building." His eyes pleaded.

Roan smiled and hopped off the bike, running into the derelict building and quickly emerging, 
carrying the silver rod. Sliding it into the carrier on the bike, he hopped on, hugging Razor to 
his chest and then sped off towards the base.

<~>

"Well doc? How is he?" Roan leant against the door to the sickbay, carrying a small bundle 
underneath his arm and grinning happily.

The friendly female panda doctor turned and smiled at the fox. "He's going to be okay. He's 
lucky you got there when you did. He had a dislocated tail, someone must have jerked on it 
bloody hard, but it was repairable. He's badly bruised, that includes his tail base, and the 
blaster burn on his arm will take a while to heal, but otherwise he's fine." She tapped a chart 
in her paw and smiled "Its about time for his next shot of antibiotics. why don't you come 
along and help me. He's a royal pain when it comes to injections."

Roan chuckled and nodded, following the panda to a room off the main ward. Inside Razor 
lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling and counting tiles. As Roan and the doctor entered 
he grinned widely and churped "ROAN!!! Have you come to get me out of here?"

The doctor shook her head and chuckled "He's been complaining that its boring in here." She 
took a bottle out of her pocket, filling a syringe from it, then grinned devilishly at Razor.

The otter continued to grumble "Roan, tell her I need something to do." then noticed the 
syringe and yelped "NO no. not again, those things hurt!"

Roan chuckled and walked to the other side of the bed, gently squeezing his paw "Come on 
Raz. be a brave little guy." He looked at the doctor "In the butt?" As she nodded, he 
chuckled and sat down next to Raz. "Come on Raz, show us that cute ass that drives the girls 
crazy." He grinned playfully as Razor smirked and shrugged.

"Oh alright. just make it quick doc." and he rolled over slowly, kicking off the blankets. The 
doctor administered the injection, and that was that. She smiled and patted his butt cheek 
softly, then left. Roan grinned and pulled the blanket back over Razor as he rolled onto his 
back again.

"So how are you feeling?" He smiled softly at the otter.

The otter shrugged and grinned "Okay I guess. bored out of my skull, but okay." He paused 
and looked down at his paws. "Thank you Roan. if you hadn't been there, those guys would 
have killed me."

The fox patted Raz's shoulder and smiled "Hey, I'm just glad you're okay. And whether they 
say so or not, so is everyone else, well. most people anyway." Grinning, he bent down and 
picked up the parcel, putting it on the bed. "Here. got you something."

Razor studied it carefully, cocking his head to one side. "What is it?" Taking it in his paws he 
shook it lightly and heard nothing. Opening it slowly, he clapped his paws once and chirped 
happily, hugging Roan. "Oh thank you thank you thank you. I've been feeling naked without 
one." He grinned broadly as he lifted the blue and silver bandana out of the parcel, tying it 
around his neck.

Roan chuckled and shook his head "Damn I've missed your smile. You were such a cute kid, 
you know that?" 

Razor blushed and smiled back, then frowned and looked back at his footpaws, asking in a 
low voice, "How is Taskur?"

Roan grinned "Pissed as hell that I brought you back, but he'll get over it. Already the others 
have voiced their anger when they saw the state you were in. He won't be able to throw you 
out again. Oh, by the way, I got you your old room back. All your stuff is in storage 
somewhere, and as soon as we find it we'll send it right along."

Razor hugged Roan again, gently purring happily "It feels so good to be home."

Roan smiled and patted the otter on the head "Its good to have you home. I've got to get 
back to work, but I'll be back later to check on you, okay?"

Razor nodded thankfully and smiled. As Roan turned to go, he piped up "Its good to know I 
still have some friends.

Roan stopped and turned back "You have plenty of friends Raz. You just have to find them."