Illium Dreams
No Money, No Friends, and Thousands of Light-Years from Home
Year 2195 – Minneapolis, Minnesota:
"Barkeep! Another whiskey!" Jackson ordered.
"This is your tenth one, sir. You sure you don't want some water instead?" the bartender asked.
"Just keep 'em comin'," he said. "I'm good for it."
Oldies music pounded from the speakers. The old stuff, like metal, always helped him relax, something which he needed. The bartender slid the rocks glass filled with whiskey across the mahogany bar. Jackson caught the glass as a well-dressed man in a suit took a seat next to him at the bar.
"I'll have what he's having," the stranger ordered.
Jackson looked at the stranger out of the corner of his eye as he downed another drink. The stranger took his own drink and looked right at him.
"You look like someone who is trying to forget something. Want to talk about it?" the stranger asked.
"What, are you some sort of shrink?" Jackson asked.
"Consider me a concerned patron sharing a drink with you."
"Well, my friend, you're looking at the newly re-civilized Jackson Carver. Former N7 and discharged from the Alliance for bullshit reasons." He raised his empty glass in a mock toast, which the stranger met with a toast of his own. "Barkeep! Another!"
"May I ask what those bullshit reasons are?" the stranger asked.
Usually, he wouldn't talk to some random stranger about this stuff, but between anger and alcohol, right now he just didn't care.
"The docs said I have PTSD, or some shit like that. You have a couple of nightmares, freeze during some training, and they start questioning everything."
"Nightmares? From the Reaper War?"
"Yeah. I saw friends killed in gruesome ways. Bullet wounds are one thing, but seeing a friend get ripped in half by one of those brute things, hearing his screams in the brief time he was alive as he bled out? The doctors can say what they want, but no matter how healthy a mind is, you don't forget things like that."
"I hear ya," the stranger said. "Get this man another drink. He's a hero of the Reaper War so his tab is on me."
Jackson closed his eyes and massaged his temples, trying to make the images of the Reaper War, made all the more surreal by his addled brain, go away. He heard the clink of a glass placed in front of him as he massaged his eyeballs.
"Thanks for the drinks, but I should probably be going," he said.
He started to leave but the stranger grabbed his arm.
"Have this last drink while I call a cab for you."
Jackson obliged, sitting back down while the stranger walked outside. A few minutes later he finished his drink and stumbled out of the bar. The stranger waited for him by a cab and opened a door for him.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked the stranger.
"Just making sure you get home safely, Mr. Carver."
He got into the taxi, no longer feeling like questioning the man, who climbed in beside him.
"I think this car was a good idea. I … a … I feel funny."
"You'll be safe, Mr. Carver. We'll take good care of you," the stranger said.
"We'll … wha?" he started to ask.
The inside of the car spun, and his world faded to black as he slumped over in his seat.
Jackson stirred out of sleep, massaging his temples because of the headache left over from the night before. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when they did, he found himself in an unfamiliar place.
"What happened last night?" Jackson asked as he sat up. "Where am I?
He looked around at the room. Its design wasn't human, though he couldn't quite place what it was.
"Hello?" he asked, hoping he could get some answers.
Why's it so cold in here?
He got out of the soft bed and searched for some way to turn up the temperature. He found a wall panel which had a readout he wasn't familiar with. He scrolled through the different temp settings until he found Celsius.
Twenty-three degrees? Why am I cold?
"At least I'm still wearing my clothes," he said while looking in a nearby mirror. "News."
Hopefully, that will tell me where I am.
A professional, female voice responded, blurting out area news.
"It's been ten years since Nassana Dantius was found murdered in her office at the unfinished Dantius Towers. Now, some enterprising individuals have decided to buy the unfinished towers …"
He tuned out most of the rest of the report, not caring about whoever this Dantius person is.
"… More news after the weather. It's a sunny day in Nos Astra, but enjoy it while it lasts …"
"Nos Astra?" Jackson asked, confused. "Why does that sound familiar?"
He rushed to one of the windows and opened the curtain, wincing in the bright light. Once his vision adjusted, he saw a beach far below, dotted with people either lying down or moving about. Buildings stretched along the beach to either side of the one he looked out from.
"Are those asari?" he asked, noting the tiny blue bodies walking along the beach. "Oh god! Where the fuck am I?"
He searched the room, hoping to find clues as to where he was and why he was there. Other things started to jump out at him as off. He opened the closet in the bedroom to find it fully stocked with clothes he didn't remember buying but were all in his size. He found the bathroom stocked with hygiene supplies. He rushed to the kitchen and found a fridge filled with his favorite foods and drinks.
"Holy shit!"
He looked at the room's bar, and that's when he found the datapad. A light blinked on it, indicating it had a message.
"Hello, Mr. Carver. We're sorry for any inconvenience we may have caused. We hope the the cryo-stasis we put you in didn't cause too much discomfort upon waking up. We wanted to greet you personally, but circumstances, we're afraid, keep us from doing so. We hope you like the room. It is paid for and stocked with everything we know you like. We're sure you're wondering why you are here. Everything will be revealed to you in time. For now, we suggest that you enjoy yourself and relax until we get a hold of you again. Welcome to Illium, Mr. Carver."
Jackson stared at the datapad, dumbfounded, and hoping more answers were forthcoming. When nothing more happened, he tried to play the message again, only to find that it deleted itself. He put the datapad down and went back to the bedroom, sitting down on the bed and covering his face with his hands.
"This is just a dream. This is just a dream. You'll wake up soon and find yourself laying on a bench outside a bar or something."
He looked up, only seeing the same bedroom he woke up in earlier.
"Shit!" he cried.
He stood up and paced around the room.
"Alright, Jackson," he said. "Pull yourself together. This isn't the first time you've found yourself in a weird situation. You need to figure out what's going on."
He went to the window and looked down to the beach.
"If this really is Illium, then there's gotta be a way off this rock."
He headed for the door but stopped short and sniffed under his arms.
"I should take a shower first."
Nos Astra's busy spaceport bustled with activity. The sights and smells played with Jackson's senses, but the asari in front of him had all his attention.
"What do you mean I can't leave the planet?" Jackson asked. He did his best to control his anger.
"I'm sorry, sir. In our system it says you're barred from any space travel. It's a planet-wide hold on your travel privileges," the asari explained.
"Can I talk to someone in charge, please? Anyone able to tell me why I've been barred from travel?" Jackson asked, getting more frustrated with every moment.
"Perhaps I can help you, Mr. Carver," a salarian offered.
"And who are you?" Jackson asked.
Instead of answering him, the salarian handed him a datapad and rushed off.
"Great. Another datapad. I wonder what this one says?" Jackson found a secluded place to listen to the message.
"Mr. Carver. we're sorry to inform you that you won't be leaving Illium anytime soon. We have plans for you and we suggest you relax until we contact you with … let's call them job opportunities. Have a good day, Mr. Carver."
The datapad automatically deleted the file once it was done.
"Yeah, we'll see about that, assholes," Jackson said.
He made his way to the taxi stand and got into a waiting cab.
"Take me to the nearest cargo port," he told the driver.
If I can't leave legally, maybe I can smuggled.
Several minutes passed, minutes Jackson spent staring at the datapad the salarian handed to him.
"This is crazy," he mumbled.
"What was that?" the driver asked.
"Nothing. Sorry."
The car touched down at the cargo port, but Jackson's plan met a major setback when he tried to pay the driver.
"What the hell? I had way more creds than this!" He looked at the driver, a turian, who glared at him from the front seat. "I swear I have creds. Just give me a moment to find them."
"Whatever. I'll give you a couple of minutes to transfer the creds, after that we'll figure something else out," the driver said.
"Dammit! Give me a break!" Jackson looked at the datapad from his mysterious kidnappers. "This datapad is a high end model, probably worth several thousand credits. Should be enough for this trip and to take me back to my apartment."
"You're right, but I'm not waiting," the driver said.
"You won't have to, without creds there's no reason for me to find a ship right now." Jackson got back into the cab. "Let's go."
Later, Jackson sat on the couch in his new apartment with a bottle of Thessian Red he found in the apartment's bar.
"They really thought of everything, didn't they," he said, sighing. "No money, no friends, and a swanky, fully furnished apartment on a planet thousands of lightyears from home. Yeah, Jackson, you're having a good day."
He got up, took the bottle and walked over to a large picture window that overlooked the Nos Astra coastline. Night fell on his way back to the apartment, but the party on the beach didn't end when Tasale set. Lights glowed across the beach and he could see tiny bodies moving about in the glow.
"Kinda wish I was down there." He glanced around the apartment and screamed, "But somebody took all my money! You're listening, right?! Of course you are! Even the stupid flappy plants by the vid screen are probably bugged!" He gestured to one of the ferns. "Sorry you were dragged into this."
Jackson peered through the window again, watching what looked like a sort of beach volleyball game start up. Looked like there were asari, turians, humans, and even a few quarians, though they still wore their enviro-suits.
"That must take some of the fun out of it."
He went back to the couch and sat down, taking a drink straight from the bottle.
"I guess I'll try and find a way to make some money tomorrow." He looked at one of the ferns again. "Shhhh, don't tell them I said that." He chuckled and put the bottle down on the coffee table. "I think I've had enough."
Jackson turned on the vid-screen. An asari adult cartoon lit up the screen, making him wince.
"Yay late night vids," he said while he lay down on the couch.
Despite the flashy lights and moaning noises, he dozed off, dreaming of weird cartoons and ferns wearing enviro-suits.