All That Glitters Ch. 00 - Prologue

Welcome readers. It has been a few years since I have posted, due primarily to an accident which resulted in the necessity for several operations to correct problems. Between hospital time and rehab, I have not really been in the right frame of mind to write stories that Literotica readers would appreciate. I hope to correct that with this offering.

This is the start of a new series. It is a SciFi piece that starts with miners in space, but quickly escalates to something much larger. The first chapter (Ch 00) is low on sexual offerings as it is intended to introduce some of the characters and set the story line. There will be a hint at sex but not the usual amounts that you would find in my stories. I hope to write at least one chapter per month while making them more suitable for Literotica's nature i.e. more sex.

Looking back on my written work, I have noted several stories that require additional chapters and am moving to fill in those. I intend to continue with "The Hunt", "Demon Spawn", "Husband Can't So I Did", and "The Dare". So those of you who found the first chapter(s) of interest can look forward to seeing these story lines continued, and in some cases, ended.

I also have several drafts ongoing of new pieces, including: "Holly Jenkins: Escort", "Loving Husband", "Night of Masks", "Penultimate Wrestling", "The Suit", "The Gift", and "The Wrong Resort". Pieces that I have been dabbling with during my ongoing medical situation. Unfortunately, not being in the right frame of mind, I never found that these stories came up to the standards that I had set myself. Poor as those standards might have been. Now that my mind is moving back to being more sexually oriented, I find that I have been able to correct and enhance these stories and will post them soon. This year, and especially the next couple of months, will be productive for me and, hopefully, of interest for you.

As usual, I claim sole responsibility for the story line. This story is a fantasy, with no basis in reality. Any similarity that you may perceive to current events, people, or situations real or imaginary is completely unintended. Look no further than the story line for its intent and purpose.

Big shout out to SaddleRidder for all the help she provided in editing. Couldn't have provided anywhere near as good a product without her help.

Please rate and comment. But keep your comments respectful. If you rant and rave or are disrespectful in your commentary, it will be deleted.

Having said all this, I am pleased to be back as an author. Sorry for the delay. Enjoy.

Liramor-23 Mining Platform (LMC-23), 109 Piscium star system, 106 Light Years from Terra

Sean Murphy was a big man. Tall and broad and heavily muscled, a native of planet New Ireland (Éire Nua), he was paying the price for his size. He had been on Liramor-23 for just over two years now and had regretted his choice of the Liramor Mining Company (LMC) from day one. LMC was miserly, doing everything on the cheep. While they provided the necessities, any luxuries were paid for by the employee. Everything had to be imported. Nothing was made on site, which meant you paid handsomely for those few luxury items available, which the company imported, at a hefty price.

Equipment, especially suits, were generic sizes, meaning that nothing fit Sean's 210cm height properly. So, if you wanted, or in Sean's case needed equipment alterations, you had to pay for them out of your own pocket. He'd been on station for twenty-six months now and it had taken him till just two months previously before he could afford any equipment upgrades due to the prices. Which meant that he wore ill fitting and often very tight mining suits for Extra Vehicular Activity (EVA) work on the rocks.

Mining in space was difficult and dangerous, made more so if your equipment was not sized for you. The price of parts was such, that Sean had to make choices when he recently ordered his new suit upgrades. He had chosen custom made arms that would fit his oversized body. That meant he was still crammed into an ill-fitting body and lower limb assembly. He could, however, now use his arm and glove assembly with much finer dexterity than ever, which pleased him immensely. His job was to monitor, direct and repair the various mining bots that hovered around the rocks being picked apart for their mineral wealth. Which led to his current problem.

Suit time was strictly limited. Overtime was heavily discouraged by the company. Which meant that a ten-hour shift included one hour of in brief and suit-up time, eight hours of EVA time, and one hour to de-suit, debrief and brief the next shift. But therein lay his problem. To whit, there was no next shift.

Despite the best efforts of the various mining companies to prevent it, diseases still slipped onto mining platforms. The Flu had come to LMC-23, in a big way. In this particular case, it was a variant of the disease that the infirmary did not have inoculations for. The disease had rampaged through the platform before the infirmary could replicate the necessary vaccine.

Due to medical improvements over the centuries, people no longer died of the Flu. But it still caused general sickness that needed caring for. Over half of the station was medically excused from EVA work for their own protection, and isolated to private quarters or the infirmary, dependant on the severity of the case, in order to control the spread.

But with no one to take over from him, Sean's EVA time was being racked up on this shift, so much so that he was currently fourteen hours into this EVA. With the exception of emergency situations, the maximum allowable suit time was restricted to twelve hours. Part of this was safety concerns, but the other part was LMC practices, they didn't want to pay overtime, which kicked in at fourteen hours. At least he would be getting time-and-a-half for his first thirteen hours and double time from fourteen hrs onward. Still, he hadn't been able to feel his feet for the last two hours now. It was time to get them to call this shift.

"Ops Five, Charlie One-Two-One: Over"

"Ops Five: Go."

"One-Two-One: Is there a replacement for this shift being readied?" he asked. "I haven't been able to feel my feet for some time now. Over." He hoped that fact would light a fire under them.

"Ops Five: There is no one available to take up the next shift. We want you to park the bots for maintenance for the next two shifts. Over."

Damn, that meant he would be another two hours getting all the bots parked!

"121: Alright, but I want double time-and-a-half on this one. Over." Let them stew on that! He thought.

"Ops Five: Agreed. Get the bots parked then head in. A recovery team will be there to help you. Out."

Sean worked as fast as he could to get the bots parked. Usually, there was one attendant for every four bots, but Sean was out alone with all twelve mining bots assigned to cage five, another breach of protocol, as miners should not be out by themselves. It took him over two and a half hours to corral and park the widely spread out bots, making his EVA sixteen and a half hours in duration.

Finally completed, he hooked up to a 'Bus' and headed for the recovery landing. The shuttle system, or 'shuttle bus' referred to simply as the Bus, crept along the cages allowing miners to hook up and be brought to the station. They normally followed a programmed circuit route but could be directed to one cage, as was done for Sean. The Bus took twenty minutes to bring him to station.

"Ops Five, Charlie 121: Heading in, open the barn door, over." Sean sent as he approached the recovery landing.

"Ops Five: Door is open, don't let the critters escape. Out." Sean smiled at the old joke, an admonition to hurry inside. The critters, if there were any, would not survive long escaping into space.

He detached himself from the Bus aiming at the recovery landing. Short puffs of his suit drive sent him to the landing just as the hatch cycled open. He slipped inside and started the procedures for activating climate controls. He heard the clicking and groaning from his suit as the warm air cycled into the airlock with a high-pitched whistle and began to impact on the cold exterior of the suit. He felt the gravity plates activating, and he was slowly pressed into the deck.

He realized he would need the recovery team as gravity forced him down and he was increasingly unable to remain upright. This had never happened to him before, but then, he had never been out this long either.

That's when the pain hit him. The upper part of his legs sent shockwaves into his body as gravity took him into the deck, his body unable to support him.

People will tell you that you cannot hear screams in space, but Sean's screams were heard four bulkheads away...

Conference Room 1, Command and Control Level, Liramor-23

Fiona Marsh, Director Liramor-23, slammed through the conference room door an hour after the initial incident was recorded.

"What the hell happened?" she snapped, looking to her HR specialist Diane Ancien.

Diane Ancien, a forty-three-year old administrative specialist, was from planet, Nouvelle France and spoke standard with the soft lilt that French speakers had. She was a tall red head whose body showed the years of experience she and her family had in space. People who lived in space tended toward long and lean bodies, and Diane was no exception.

"Miner named Sean Murphy was in EVA for more than the recommended time. He's a big man and doesn't really fit in any of the standard mining suits well. He bought some customized upgrades recently, but they were for his arms. He was fitted into a suit that could barely accommodate his size. He had done this many times before but had never been in EVA this long. No one has, as company policy does not allow for more than a twelve-hour max outside. With the current problems with the Flu epidemic, he had no follow-on for his shift, so Ops Five asked him to stay out, offering him double time-and-a-half. He accepted. But after fourteen hours requested a return to station as he "could not feel his legs". With no follow-up shift, Ops Five ordered him to park the bots for maintenance, which he complied. That put him sixteen and a half hours in EVA, two and a half hours past the time he indicated loss of sensation in his legs. Plus drag time on the Bus from Cage Five to station." Diana report.

Fiona looked over to the Chief Medical Officer.

Dr. Mark Ronda was the CMO of Liramor-23. At fifty, he was half-way through his expected lifespan in space. Like Diane, he showed his family's space heritage but unlike her, his dark hair was prematurely turning grey, an affect of his chosen profession. Originating from Sol system, the human home star, he had spent twenty years of his early career in the military and was a veteran of the Terran Unification Wars. As were many people on station.

"Miner Murphy collapsed on entering the airlock after gravity hit him. He had lost the use of his legs from poor blood circulation due primarily to the constriction of the suit on his legs. Preliminary assessment indicates he will lose the legs as he has had no circulation from mid-thigh down for several hours. We'll know more in eight hours, but I wouldn't count on a better prognosis. The only thing we can hope for is saving more of the legs during amputation. This is a bad one, boss." The CMO finished.

"Where is Ops Five?" Fiona asked.

"Right behind you ma'am." David Markham announced as he stepped into the room.

David Markham was a Terran who had headed out into space to "make his mark" but soon found his mark was best suited as an operations supervisor. He was good at it. Still young at thirty, a medium height, handsome blond man. Despite his age he was none the less a good Ops manager. He only had ten years in space and was the first of his family in space, which showed in the compact dimensions of his body.

"I took over at Ops Five at 20:00 hrs, fourteen hours into Miner Murphy's shift. As there was no follow-on for his shift, or the next two shifts because of the current medical emergency, I asked Murphy to park the bots for maintenance. I had no idea of the end results of that request. Sorry ma'am." David relayed contritely.

"The report is complete, just waiting input from the CMO before it is signed off." He finished.

"Thank-you Mr. Markham. Your shift is complete?" Fiona asked.

"Once the report is completed, yes ma'am. Cavanaugh took over at Ops Five once I was declared implicated in the incident." David responded.

"The CMO's addition will likely not be available until after tomorrow, so forward what you have for now and go off shift." Fiona ordered with a nod. "You will not be available for duty until this is resolved on station. Your pay will be suspended during the investigation, but from what I can see this was a comedy of errors that will impact many people, and station policy. Meaning you will likely not be charged for mismanagement or docked pay. That could change though, dependant on the results of the investigation. You're dismissed."

David nodded and quickly left, glad that he hadn't been pulled into what would likely be a long and boring session of recrimination and finger pointing. He had anticipated that his pay would be held but was glad for the Director's statement at the end. They would have to overrule her now to charge him alone.

As soon as the door closed behind Ops Five, Fiona looked at those assembled in the room. The CMO, HR, Senior Operations Officer (SOps), Senior Legal Officer (SLO), Chief Communications Officer (CCO), Chief Information Officer (CIO), and the Chief Financial Officer (CFO) all looked back at her. The only person missing was the Miners Union Rep who, thank God, was down with the Flu.

"Comments? Suggestions?" She asked.

"We could say he was libel for his own injuries." SOps suggested.

Richard Fent was another man from a space faring family. His family originated from planet New England and at 40 he was just entering the prime of his life in space. His Nordic heritage showed in his fair skin, blue eyes, and blond hair. He was noted early for his administrative skills and rose quickly to his position as the senior operations officer on the station.

"Not possible." The SLO interjected immediately. "He's on record complaining of the lack of proper fitting suits. The only thing going for us is that those sizes are rare."

"NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!" Fiona snapped, emphasizing each word. "Any Boy Scout legal practitioner would be able to blow holes in that, never mind what a capable interplanetary lawyer could do. WE ARE NOT GOING TO FIGHT THIS ONE! It will be cheaper in the long wrong to accept culpability and give the best medical aid we can to Miner Murphy. We WILL roll over like good little puppies and do everything we can to help in this tragic situation. IS THAT ABSOLUTELY CLEAR?"

Looking at each of the senior personnel in turn to ensure they got the message, she made sure to use her maximum force of will on all of them enforcing that they would be behind her on this.

"In the long run, it will cost us less to do this than take the chance of lawsuit that could cost us millions." She looked to the CMO.

"Make sure that you prep the amputation areas for reseeding. He gets new, medically induced legs from this. This probably means he's off the station once he recovers from the amputation?" she asked the CMO.

"It will take him eighteen months minimum to regrow his legs and complete his rehab. That can't be done here. He will have to go to one of the more advanced planets to get this kind of work." The CMO stated.

"That will take him past his three-year term with us." HR commented.

"He gets paid until he is found medically fit. I want him to think the best of us so much so that he has a desire to re-up with us after his rehab. That means he gets a proper fitting suit if he re-ups. Clear?" She snapped once again looking around the room. "Whatever he needs he gets. I don't want this coming back to bite us in the ass. His recently purchased arms go with him. He has paid for them in more ways than one.

"I want new protocols in place to prevent this in future. If we can't provide the equipment, we will make it available at cost for basic suit parts. Anything over that is at the miner's expense. You said suits of that size were rare, which means we will likely not need to do that often?" She looked at HR who nodded in return.

"Right, CCO - you will make up a station-wide communication on this one, explaining the incident and the new protocol. Make sure that all miners understand that this does not mean they start looking for improvement on their equipment. It is for 'unusual' circumstances. We will make sure that anyone else coming here with special requirements get those BEFORE they arrive on station. Cheaper that way and shows how 'caring' LMC is to the needs of its personnel. Clear?"

"I'll get right on it ma'am. You'll have a draft in half and hour." CCO stated. The SLO nodded in turn assuring Fiona of his support.

"CFO, you will make an injury compensation package available to him and explain his upcoming expenses before he leaves the station. I don't want him trying to contact us if his rehab is not with a Liramor medical facility. The only way he could do that would be through a lawyer, who would likely jump at the chance to 'help' him. You and HR make sure he is fully aware of all compensations he is entitled to before he leaves the station. Make sure you have input from Legal before everything gets signed off."

"It will be a couple of days before he could leave the platform, so we can come up with a good package for his 'medical needs.'" The CFO stated, HR and SLO nodded in turn.

"When is the next supply shuttle due?" Fiona asked SOps.

"Not until the end of the month, three weeks from now. Murphy will be on station until at least then." He replied.

"Anything else that needs to come to my attention?" Fiona asked her senior personnel. When no one brought anything up, she dismissed the group. This one would be simple as far as medical emergencies went. She didn't have to communicate a death to a family.

Thank God for small miracles. She thought.

She would allow Ops Five to be suspended for a couple of days without pay, but with the new protocols in place, he would not be found culpable and would not loose any pay over this incident. It showed due diligence without inflicting unnecessary grief on one of her better employees. Most people banked the majority of their pay as there were few places to buy things on station. So, in the long run, he wouldn't notice the suspension of pay.

Time to get back to work. She thought, heading for her office.

Liramor-23 Infirmary

Sean Murphy slowly came up from the depths of a fog-induced dream. Momentarily bright lights were quickly dimmed, and a hand gently touched his shoulder. Garbled words impinged on his consciousness. He recognized his name.

"Sean? Can you hear me?" A soft voice asked.

Sean looked over to the shoulder that had the hand on it and slowly followed the arm upwards to a pretty face. The woman was in medical gear.

Shit. He thought. I'm in the Infirmary.

He tried to answer the question, but his mouth was very dry. A straw poked his mouth and he trapped it with his lips and sucked gently, filling his mouth with sweet tasting water.

"What happened?" he asked but remembered half-heard comments. Something about his legs. "My legs?"

"You didn't have circulation in your lower limbs for at least four hours that we can determine. Your legs died in your suit. I'm sorry, we had to amputate. Your time in space has come to an end. For now."