Mass Effect: The Forgotten Soul

Chapter Four: Strange New Life

"Never walk away from home ahead of your axe and sword. You can't feel a battle in your bones or foresee a fight."

Martin made a makeshift bed out of the crates that were all over the shuttle. He and Velpia decided to take up shifts watching over the autopilot. Of course, since he couldn't fly the shuttle, she instructed him not to touch the controls and wake her if anything happened. She also set up proximity waypoints on the nav computer to let Martin know when to wake her. This was a notification system to alert them when they needed to use a Mass Effect relay or reached a point. This was all above his head, and he knew it. He started to wish he was thrown in a time machine and sent backward in time rather than gone forward.

The relays had amazed him; then again, it was the size of a small moon. It reminded him of a massive gun, which made his inner childlike wonderment bounce with joy. He dared not let Velpia see his excitement.

His time alone in the cockpit was used to read. She showed him how to access the extranet when they passed by a comm bouy, which allowed him to start reading up on the time he had missed. There was one subject that he avoided. Instead, he skimmed through a few general summaries on general Human history that he had missed, trying to skim through as much as possible to grasp the 'world' he was introduced to. Sleep was difficult for him; his mind would race around, searching for answers on how he ended up here. He only came up with some vague theories, some of which almost gave him a panic attack.  Eventually, once he laid down on the floor with his legs propped up on one of the crates, he found some sleep. 

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Martin's mind stirred slightly as his four-hour nap ended unceremoniously. She must be having a blast; she hasn't woken me up yet, he thought, surrendering once more to sleep.

When he finally awoke again, it was to a jarring, half-formed thought: the ship drifted toward a star, and the realization shot through him. He bolted upright, disoriented. The shuttle was eerily quiet; no vibrations, no engine hum, just an unsettling stillness that filled the air. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and quickly scanned the cabin. It was empty.

Panic crept in as he rose from the floor and hurried to the cockpit. "Where is-?" he muttered under his breath. He approached the side door, hand hovering over the manual release. For a moment, doubt seized him, and he hesitated. Wait, he recalled her earlier warning: Don't open any hatches.

Reluctantly, he returned to the cockpit and peered out the front of the shuttle. His breath caught in his throat. This wasn't space at all. Instead, he was greeted by a chaotic landscape of tall, brown-tinted buildings, some soaring like skyscrapers while others dangled from the ceiling, all bathed in a sickly yellowish-red light that resembled a distant sun. Flames flickered atop some structures, casting erratic shadows that danced across the surfaces below. The entire scene radiated a sense of decay and desperation.

Where the hell am I? The thought gripped him, and he moved back to the shuttle's door, his hand clenching around the handle. He hesitated again, weighing the consequences of breaking her rule. But before he could second-guess himself, the door slid open of its own accord, and he stumbled back, a jolt of fear coursing through him at the thought of suffocating in an alien atmosphere. The sensation lifted, however, as he saw a familiar gray face emerge from the shadows.

"Are you alright?" Velpia asked, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Martin stood frozen for a moment, drawing in the air around him, letting the scents of the outside world seep into the shuttle. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Uh, where are we? It smells like rocks and despair," he quipped.