Chutney

<snip>
The door slid shut and the lift began to ascend with three quarters full of piss-warm water, four buckets worth of kelp and an exhausted three million year old ship’s cook with a massive headache, that almost killed the first intelligent new life he encountered.
The door opened on the Promenade, dumping the whole lot into the lobby. Brett was so tired he could barely look up and see the mob of rodent men, scampering away from the deluge of water rushing across the floor. “Because, of course there are.”
</snip>

Wetly rolling over onto his back Brett lay there in the shallow, dirty puddle for a moment, while he caught his breath.
The Promenade looked... different.
His brow knitting in consternation, Brett gazed around the barely recognisable ruin of Blue Dwarf's social and business hub. Gone were most of the shops and bars, only to be replaced by a twisting, ramshackle shanty town, built of junk and detritus.
Disentangling himself from a few fronds of kelp, he sat up with a low groan and looked more closely around his immediate surroundings, trying to find anything that bore any resemblance to the Promenade that he used to know.
By his reckoning, he was down near the aft end of the strip, where the red light district used to be; but almost nothing remained of the sleazy clubs and lap dancing bars of old - just a few bits of broken signage and some fractured neon tubes promising XXX girls and boys, protruding out, above tumbledown dwellings of dirt and corrugated iron.
A couple of metre high gerbils were staring him from behind a decaying concrete bench, their beady black eyes watchful and suspicious.
Brett waved at them “Hi?” he tried, but they scampered off in a nervous flurry, leaving him to shrug and shake his head “Huh” he grumbled.
“You are... new... are you not?”
Startled by the frail, wheezing voice behind him, Brett lunged to his feet and turned to see an ancient-looking ferret standing on its hind legs, flanked by several other younger and lither specimens of the same ilk. Standing at just below Brett’s own height, the creature was wearing ornate but faded red robes, an old fez and a pince-nez. In one hand it clutched a cane, which it leaned heavily on, supporting much of its weight.
“Who... Who’re you?” Brett asked in astonishment
“My name is Chutney,” the old ferret replied is its dry, dusty voice “and you?”
“Brett – Brett Bishop”
“Well, Mr. Bishop, may I be the first to welcome you out of your... What do you humans call it? Stasis?”
“Yeah, I just got out” Brett nodded and gestured around at his surroundings “What is this place? Where are the other crew?”
“Have you not made contact with them?”
“No – They’ve no idea I’m even here. Where are they?”
“The other humans are off the ship at the moment” Chutney wheezed “No doubt seeking supplies, to put an end to the food shortages”
“Food shortages?”
“We are starving, but it is of little consequence” Chutney waved a clawed hand, dismissively “We ferrets get by”
“Well, I could whip a few kelp burgers up” Brett offered “Healthy and nutritious – they’re like a salty explosion inside your mouth”
Chutney made a low wheezing noise which Brett belatedly realised was laughter “Thank you but no my dear man. We like our food a little more... lively” the old ferret leered “and since none of the other humans know that you’ve just emerged from stasis, they won’t miss you, will they?”
“What are you saying?” Brett asked, taking a nervous, squelchy step backwards
“I’m saying that you can stick your salty explosion up your arse” Chutney snarled, with a sudden hard edge to his voice “Ferrets are carnivores, so it’ll be Brett burgers for us tonight!” he turned to nod to two of the ferrets flanking him “Branston, Piccalilli – Get him!”

<tag>
Thought I'd give you something to do David
Brett has a pack of hungry ferrets after him – What does he do?
All being well, the cleaning chickens will be sorted out in short order, and we’ll get Brett met up with the rest of the group
</tag>