A loud hum filled my ears, a biting cold pervading throughout my body. I tried to take a breath, but a thick fluid-like substance was drawn further down my throat, causing me to vehemently cough, forcing the substance out of my body as I fell onto the ground on all fours.

The ground was cold metal, though not as cold as the air from where I fell. Odd. A quiet laugh broke the brief silence, almost synthetic sounding, as it sounded like it was filtered through a speaker of some sort. The sound made me snap my eyes open, which caused me to blink rapidly, what little light there was blinding my retinas into submission. My newly watery eyes slowly adjusted to the lighting, allowing me to better gauge my surroundings.

The room I'm in is small. Like, tiny. It has two metallic pods, frosted over with melting ice, one of which I just emerged from. The laugh seems most likely to have come from a tall man in full blue armor. The armor consisted of a helmet, cuirass, pauldrons, forearm and armored tactical gloves, greaves and boots. Underneath was a black under armour mesh, possibly with some kind of ballistic weave in place. The mans helmet was a featureless mask with oversized eye-holes, which glowed softly, giving a spooky feel to the look. Four dots around the mouth area probably housed the speakers.

'What the hell is going on?' I asked myself, trying to shake my head vigorously in order to stop hallucinating all of this. No luck. 'Damn.'

"Where… am… I?" I barked, coughing in-between each word, the effort of talking causing more of that strange fluid to work itself loose in my throat.

"You're in our medbay. I'd be more specific, but I can't divulge that information yet." The man in the armor answered, "My name is Damon, and you're most certainly not Fahjad Samir."

'What? What kind of an answer is that?' I snarkily thought to myself. "Of course I'm not, I never claimed to be… that guy." I could not for the life of me remember the name that guy just said.

"Never say never. Your cryopod transponder was reprogrammed with the ID of one of our members, and it now appears he's gone AWOL. Our techs are working on getting your original ID decrypted, but it could take a few hours." Damon explained.

'Cryopod? What the hell? I don't remember ever even being near a cryopod before now.' This shit just kept getting more and more confusing. I need answers. "My cryopod? What are you talking about? Why was I in a cryopod in the first place?"

Damon threw his hands up, "That's above my paygrade, man. I'm just here to take you to the Sergeant," at that, he handed me some sweatpants and a white t-shirt, "Make yourself decent, then meet me outside."

It was then that I noticed I'd been completely naked the entire time. My cheeks flushed furiously as I grabbed the clothes from him, hurriedly dressing myself. 'Well, that was embarrassing.' The clothes did help warm me up though, which is good. I still felt chilled to the bone from being in that pod. This whole situation is just plain eerie.

Having dressed and chided myself for not realizing I was naked at the start, I've now exited the small room. Damon is standing to the left of the door, arms behind his back, almost as if at parade rest. 'Is this a military outfit of some sort? Where'd they get that next-level armor? Gotta be experimental.' This new room was somewhat small as well, but not nearly as small as the cryobay. There are two other doors, one on the far wall to my left and one close by on the right side wall. "Sorry about that." I say, rubbing my neck to show my embarrassment.

"Don't sweat it, we've all been there at one point or another. Just be glad it was me who was sent to wake you up. Some of the others aren't as chill about it, they'd tease you for weeks." Damon replies, waving off my nervousness.

Speaking of the other guys, the door to my right opens, revealing a hulking behemoth, dressed in the same sort of blue armor as Damon. This thing puts Arnold Schwarzenegger to shame with just how massive its muscles are. It's biceps must be at least thirty inches around. I can't even imagine how much this thing can bench, I mean- "What're you staring at, maggot?" the gruff voice from the thing interjects.

I'm not sure how to reply. This thing… this alien… I mean, with how straight-up rude this guy/thing(?) is being already, anything I say could potentially lead to a confrontation, probably a physical one. Fuck. "Apparently I'm staring at an asshole, which is weird, since it's usually at the other end."

Shit, that wasn't what I meant to say… 'Did I say that out loud? I was just trying to think of something witty to say. What do I- '

An oversized fist slamming into my abdomen knocked me out of my silent reverie, causing me to double over. Which sucked because as my face got closer to the floor, a massive leg came rocketing into view, kneeing me square in the face. I heard a sickening crack as it impacted, signalling that something probably broke. Well, that and the shock at the force of the impact.

My head swam for a good minute or so as I fell straight on my ass, blood flowing freely from my face. "Rude." Was all I managed to say, being distracted by the blood getting into my mouth. I immediately looked for something to cover my nose with, which, seeing nothing in my immediate vicinity, meant taking my shirt off and pressing it over my nose. The white shirt was quickly covered in blood as I leaned my head back against the closed cryobay door, briefly closing my eyes.

A scuffle made me open my eyes again, wary that the big guy wasn't done with me yet. Damon must be stronger than he looks because he had the big guy pinned by his neck against the wall opposite me, "Cool it, LJ. Step out of line again and this guy won't be the only one bleeding."

"Whatever," LJ said, shoving Damon off of him, "Just let Sarge talk to the git so we can be rid of him faster. Can't believe we got that waste of space instead of Samir."

At that LJ left out of the door on the far left wall, and Damon walked over to me, extending his hand to help me up. Accepting his help, I shakily got to my feet. Well, I probably have a broken nose now. That's a first. "Thanks. So, who exactly are you guys, anyway. And what was that guy? He's now the second person I've seen wearing that same blue armor."

"Don't mention it. Pretty dumb move you pulled there, but you sure got balls. Just try not to insult him again in the near future, he's a Krogan." Damon said, chuckling at what I'd said to LJ, "Oh, and we're the Blue Suns. Mercs. Anyways, follow me."

I nearly stopped in my tracks when he told me what LJ was. I mean, now that I think about it, he really does look like a Krogan. Just, you know, real. How did I just meet a Krogan? A species from Mass Effect. As in, fictional. None of this is making any sense. I woke up from a cryo pod over a hundred years in the future and just met an alien. Maybe I'm crazy. "Hey, keep up the pace, you don't wanna keep the boss waiting." Damon snapped me out of my thoughts, apparently I'd slowed down a lot.

Damon led me through the door on the right, down a long hallway that curved to the left. The walls and floor were both metal, and there were no windows in sight. After we rounded the corner, I spotted two doors, one on either side of the hallway and there were stairs leading down at the end. We entered through the door on our right into a processing area. Desks lined the walls with tablets and consoles placed somewhat haphazardly across them. "Processing Area" was painted in blue paint on the metal wall opposite from where we entered.

"So what're we doing here?" I asked, glancing around the room, looking for any sign of hidden danger.

"Calm down, you just need to talk to the Sergeant. He's through the door just over there," Damon explained, motioning to the door at the far left end of the room, "He'll be able to tell you more about what's going on."

Well, it seems like I have no choice but to take Damon at his word and go have a talk with his Sergeant. The walk to the door didn't take very long, but I felt like it took several minutes as each step renewed the nervous knot in the pit of my stomach. On my approach, the door slid open, revealing a small room with nothing but a table and two chairs within. 'Is this an interrogation room?' I thought, glancing around, noting that there's not even a window/mirror in the room. In one of the two chairs sat an old guy, probably the Sergeant.

Not old, per se, but older. Like, at least fifty. This guy had an aura of confidence and command about him, as though such qualities were what he was born to exemplify. His straight posture denoted possible prior or current military affiliation and his cold stare denoted a no-nonsense manner. "Sit."

I pulled the chair back, sitting as straight as I could, trying to not get on this guy's bad side. "What am i-"

"Here's the situation." Sergeant began, disregarding the fact that I'd already begun talking, "Your cryopod ID was overwritten with that of one of my men. Now, our techs haven't decrypted all of the previous data yet, but we've at least determined that your name is Austin Smith, you departed Earth in that cryopod in the year 2017 and that, at that time you were grievously injured. There was a brief interruption in your cryo sequence in the year 2162 aboard the UNSC Hopeful, for one reason or another, and were then placed back in cryo for transport to an unknown destination. Not long after that was when your transponder ID was overwritten. Any questions?"

"That's a lot lot of information for not having all of it decrypted yet," I retort, a little overwhelmed at the wealth of information this guy just gave me. So, I left Earth in 2017… wait… What year was it now? 2162? Why was I injured? What were the extent of my injuries? What's the UNSC Hopeful? "What year is it now?"

A small smile reached the Sergeant's face, "The current year is 2170. You've been asleep for an awfully long time, it seems."

That's the understatement of the century. 2170. That makes me… 'Let's see, 2170-1992=178' 178 years old. Damn. Maybe I should walk with a cane. Or go buy some prunes. Anyway, where was I? "I suppose so. So what happens to me now? You're down a man, and I'm going to need a way to adjust to everything that's going on. Which means I'll need some work."

The sergeant sat back, folding his hands together as he did, "Be that as it may, you're a civilian. Worse yet, a civilian who is laughably out of his league, with no substantial prior training. We are down a man, yes. A man that was properly trained, had a plethora of field experience and was completely familiar with the environment."

So… I'm gonna assume the answer's no. Worth a shot, though. I'm over a hundred years in the future with no idea exactly where I am or what kind of society exists outside this building. "Fair enough. What am I supposed to do now, though? I'm way outside my comfort zone, here. I have no idea where I am or how to even get by in my new life here."

A stern look came over the man's features, "Look, son, this isn't a negotiation. You're on our turf now, we'll be determining what happens to you next. Whatever we decide is final. Finite. Understand?"

"No. This is my life, not yours. I may be on your turf, but I sure as hell didn't choose to be here. You can talk things over however much you want, but it doesn't change the fact that it's my life." I was pissed, this guy is acting like he's in charge of my future now. Like, bitch, step the fuck back.

"I'm beginning to see why you came in with a broken nose." The man glared at me, "But you're acting like you even have a choice in the matter."

An orange glow appeared around his left forearm, a digital holographic display, "Damon, take our guest to his cell."

I was about to speak up when the door opened abruptly. Damon must've been standing just outside the door. He grabbed my arm, giving me a look that said 'don't be stupid, just let it go'. Maybe I was just looking for a reason not to have to confront the sergeant. Whatever. I was led back through the room with three doors; One, which we had come through earlier in order to get here, The second, the one we just came out of and the third now on our left on the opposite side of the room from the one we came through earlier. We exited through the third door, heading further away from 'known' territory.

This place has got to be a maze of some sort. It had too many hallways and too little important rooms. However, this new room seemed important enough. Directly across from us now was a row of three cells, awaiting new occupants. Luckily for them, I was here to oblige. "Come on, you don't have to put me in there. I can be useful." I start, practically begging to not be thrown in jail for my unfortunate circumstances, "Sure, I might need a lot of training, an attitude adjustment and new gear; Along with not really knowing what it is a group like you does.."

I trailed off at the look Damon was giving me, like he'd heard it all before and didn't give two fucks one way or the other. "I have just as much choice in the matter as you, pal. What the Sergeant says goes. Personally, I think we could use a new guy with enough balls to say what he thinks, even if it'll get him pummelled by LJ. That was a wicked comeback if i ever heard one. But, this is how it has to be for now."

I put my hand to my temple, feeling a headache coming on. Shit, why the hell is all this happening? I nodded slowly to Damon, and he proceeded to show me to my cell. The one on the far left side of the room. The end of the line. I was left to await their decision and to wallow in my misery.

So, here I am. In a cell. In the future. How the hell did I get here? Why was I in that Cryopod? Where exactly am I? All these questions kept hammering into my brain, trying to force an answer from nothing. Okay, so the Sergeant guy said that I left Earth in 2017 in this pod. So whatever happened to me happened there and then. I was first woken up eight years ago aboard the UNSC Hopeful. Hm… UNSC. Where have I heard that before? I can't remember right now.

At any rate, that at least suggests that I've been aboard a space ship. How many planets have we discovered? Have we encountered alien life? What about FTL? Is that a thing yet? I sure hope so, otherwise things will get boring real quick. What am I talking about? I'm trapped in a cell, things are already going to get boring real quick. At this point in time, it's looking like I may never get the answers I'm looking for. Might as well try to acquaint myself with my cell.

A small latrine sat in the corner furthest from the cell door, with a metal sink and a small mirror above it to the left, closer to the front of the cell. This tiny space was to be my home for the foreseeable future. What the fuck? How did my life get this derailed? How did I go from living a normal life on Earth to facing possible death on a completely different planet, almost two hundred years in the future? God damn it. Seems I can't escape my thoughts.

Standing in the cell, I look myself over in the small mirror. Dried blood covered the entire bottom of my face, stemming from my broken nose. I look like one of those freshly-made zombies from the Walking Dead. The blood was caked in my moustache and beard, looking almost like ketchup. I sighed through my mouth, unable to breathe in or out through my nose. This was awful. I spent probably ten minutes washing the blood from my face, but all the activity caused the blood-flow to start again. Ugh.

I lay down on the small cot they have in here after taking off my shirt, just trying not to freak out. And I do mean 'small'. My legs are hanging off the end of it at my knees, with my head pushed all the way to the top of it. I leaned my head back, holding my crumpled up shirt to my nose, hoping to stop the bleeding. For some reason I'm feeling tired. Maybe it's the depression kicking in, maybe it's the stress of the situation taking its toll or maybe it's blood loss. I know I haven't been out of cryo long enough to warrant being tired, and I haven't done anything physically exhausting since that time, except getting kneed in the face. Ah well. My world fades to black as I give in to the weariness.

I don't know how long I've been in here. After I fell asleep, I was hoping to wake up to someone coming to fetch me to give me the verdict, but such was not my luck. I awoke to the same situation I'd been in when I was left here. Same with the next time I fell asleep, and the next, and the time after that. There was very little to do in the cell. I could sing some songs from my time (Which I did until my voice got tired), I could make a beat on any of the metal surfaces in the nearly all-metal cell, and I could go to the bathroom and sleep. Like I said, not a lot to do.

I was awoken by a tapping noise coming from the front of my cell. Am I being let out? I blearily opened my eyes, trying to blink away the grogginess as I looked up, seeing Damon at my cell. I at least assume it's Damon, as he still has that damn helmet on. "Morning." I mumble, looking around for a clock to see what time it was, then remembered there wasn't one anywhere around.

"Morning, you look like shit." Came his reply as he leaned against the bars, his right hand propping the rest of his body up.

A bemused expression came over my face, standing up as I said "Thanks, think you'd look any better after god knows how long in a tiny ass cell? How long have I been in here anyway?"

He chuckled in reply to the first part, "Nah, I'd probably look about the same as you. You've been in here for about 76 hours, not even a full day on this planet."

76 hours isn't even a full day here? "What kind of fucked up planet am I on?" I ask, the exasperation in my voice and fish-out-of-water look must have made for an amusing sight for Damon, as he began laughing again.

"Hagalaz. Also known as the worst 'habitable' (Yes, he used air quotes) planet in the galaxy. One day here is about 98 Earth days long. The sunny side of the planet stays around 72 degrees Celsius and the night side stays around -64 degrees Celsius. So be glad you're in here and not out there."

Holy fuck, man. Four days here over a year long on Earth, and it's either boiling hot outside or well below freezing. This has got to be hell. Gotta be. "You sure you guys don't wanna just send me to somewhere else? Somewhere that doesn't sound like hell?"

"It grows on you. I got here a few years ago. The Blue Suns brought a whole group of us in on a shuttle, but the engines burnt out on the way down. We crashed three klicks from the base, had to wait a few hours before they could get an APC out to us. Nearly died from exposure and dehydration, and actually, two of us did. We were all kept on fluids and bed rest for a week after being rescued. But it's home now, you know?"

"No, I don't know," I laugh darkly, this guy can't be serious saying that this place feels like home to him, "My home is back on Earth, over a century in the past. Not an easy place to get to anymore."

Damon's head fell a bit at that remark, "Yeah, a lot of us can't go back to our real homes, though for different reasons of course. Look, I'm trying to talk to the Sarge about all this, try to get you outta there. I know I don't know you and you don't know me, but you got balls, kid. That counts for something out here. We were counting on that Samir guy to bolster our numbers, but looks like he pulled a fast one on us. Not a lot we can do about it without shelling out a shit ton on creds." He paused to let all that sink in, then said, "No promises, but I'm doing what I can."

With that he walked away, leaving me to my thoughts once more. I sat down on my cot, leaning back against the wall as I brought my legs up, hugging them to my chest. I wanted to scream, or hit something, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. I'm stuck here until the assholes down the hall decide otherwise. Nothing to do but wait. And hope for the best. And sleep.

It was the next "day" when I was woken up by LJ flipping my cot over, throwing me onto the ground. I groaned at the pain as I heard him laughing, the fogginess of my mind post-sleep had not yet lifted, "Missed you too."

"Yeah, yeah just get the hell off the floor. The boss wants to see you." LJ growled, walking to just outside the cell, waiting for me to pick myself off the ground.

I forced myself into a standing position. I felt awful. I hadn't had a decent shower in what felt like forever. I occasionally washed myself with the water from the sink, but there wasn't any soap or shampoo at all. My skin felt grimy, my hair felt oily and all in all, I felt like exactly what I was, a prisoner. Thankfully, my nose never bled again after the first 'night', and the aching pain had slowly subsided, though was definitely still there. I don't think my nose is really healing properly, though. It looks crooked. "Fine, where are we going?"

"Your favorite place, " He snarkily replied, "I'm taking you back to the interrogation room."

We wound around the corner as I rolled my eyes. There was nothing in these rooms to suggest what time it was, or what kind of activity might be going on beyond these other doors. We made our way through the door leading into the Processing room and then through the other door on our right, back into the interrogation room. "Here he is, boss." LJ said to the Sergeant, and then to me, "You, sit the fuck down and keep your trap shut."

'Fucker' I thought as LJ exited the room. This is it. This is where my life begins anew or ends. "Listen up," The Sergeant (I'm just gonna start calling him Sarge) practically bellowed at me as he turned around, still standing, hands placed firmly on the back of the chair across from me, "As you so kindly pointed out the last time we talked, we're down a man. We could call our higher-ups to send someone out to us again, but that's a huge waste of time and money, not to mention a major risk on this planet. So we've decided to train your sorry ass. If you don't make the cut, you're dead. If you do, good for you."

As soon as I opened my mouth to start asking questions, Sarge threw one of his hands up, as if to say 'stop', "Look, kid, I'm just here to tell you that we've decided that you might not be the useless piece of shit that LJ thinks you are. LJ will be in to fill you in on the rest, he'll be your trainer."

At that, my mouth fell open. Are you fucking kidding me? You're going to have me train with the asshole of a Krogan that broke my nose when I first woke up? I didn't even have time to argue though, as Sarge left abruptly, and I was greeted to LJ slamming his fist on the table as he stood across from me, "Listen up, meat. You fuck anything up, or make me repeat myself, you give me thirty repetitions of an exercise of my choice. You show up late, you give me thirty repetitions of an exercise of my choice. You ask a stupid question, you-"

'Not good.' Oh, this is very not good. I have to be trained by this utter asshole for a few weeks. God help me. My eyes grew wide as I imagined just how terrible this would turn out to be. "Owe you thirty repetitions of an exercise of your choice. I get it."

LJ glared at me silently for a few seconds, "Good, now get the fuck out of here and meet me in the gym at 0400 tomorrow."

I groaned, and realized too late that one, I don't know where the hell the gym is; and two, I have no way of telling what time it is. Before all this shit happened, I always wore a watch on my left wrist. For one reason or another, whatever caused me to end up leaving Earth in 2017, I left without my watch. Left alone, now, I decided to make my way back to my cell. At least I'm not locked inside this time.

When I reached my cell, I noticed something on my cot. A sheath-like item, kind of like banded-together leather straps, but each strap had what looked like light emitting bands. The straps at one end were looped together in such a way that suggested your hand was supposed to go through that end, a small sensor located on the strap that would run across your palm.

Slipping my left arm through the straps was like sliding on a second skin. I could barely even tell it was there. I clenched my left fist, the straps didn't constrict that motion in any way whatsoever, which is good. Now, carefully, I reached my middle finger to the sensor on that palm strap, and a bright blue glow enveloped my arm. "Holy shit!" I scream, reacting like I'm dropping something hot, which made the glow disappear.

'What the hell was that? Some kind of display?' I have no idea what exactly it was or how it worked. Who put it here? Is there a note anywhere? I look around my tiny 4x6 cell, finding nothing but what was there when I was first thrown in. 'Damn, I could really use a manual for this thing.'

As soon as I thought that, a ping emanated from the device on my arm, so I hit the sensor with my middle finger again, bringing up the display. It surprised me again, briefly, but not nearly as badly as that first time. 'Hm, there's a notification of some sort.' I see a blinking icon in the upper left corner of the holographic display. Clicking through the options with my right hand brought up a new program.

"Hello and welcome to your new Polaris Mk. 3 Omni-tool! I'm your new VI Assistant, would you like a tutorial?"

Hm, this is cool. Life could certainly use more virtual assistants. "Yeah, that would be great!"

"Excellent. Your Omni-tool is equipped with many advanced features sure to make your life easier. Each Polaris Omni-tool is designed specifically to integrate with advanced combat modules, allowing efficient and easy access to your favorite technological combat capabilities and keeping you appraised of your current shield capacity and vital statistics."

Through the little walkthrough it gave me, I learned how to check the current time, anywhere in the galaxy; how to determine my exact location on any of the almost 150 known planets and how to access local maps, including those of buildings, providing an easy way to figure out where to go; and lastly, I learned how to access the extranet, which is the galaxy-wide equivalent to the internet of my time. All in all, this thing is pretty darn sweet. However, the one bad thing is that by the time I was done with the basic tutorial and set my current time and location, it was already 0112. Might as well try to get what little sleep I can. I set an alarm for 0345.