Author's Note: This story is written for the May challenge of Aria's Afterlife. For my historical event, I picked the awakening of the Prothean scientists on Ilos. Consider the sheer, stark horror of awakening and find that not only has close to a millennium vanished for you, but you're one of the last dozen members of your species in existence. And not only that, one of the people there wasn't supposed to be there. There will be only a handful of chapters in this.
Air hissed, cold and sharp against his skin. He felt the needles retract on their automatic arms, and had a brief moment of utter confusion. Who was he? Why did he know what a needle was? The thought of it brought back rushes of disjointed memories, medical caste examining him, prodding his biotic skills, experiments he performed on faint remains of the Inusannon.
The pod opened, and Ksad Ishan opened his eyes. His body was stiff, an expected side effect of long-term cryosleep. The pod lifted, rotating, making it easier for him to stumble out, falling heavily to his knees as he fought to make his body respond. Tiny dots of blood beaded all over his exposed skin and around the edges of his carapace from the needles. He opened his mouth, voice emerging as only a harsh croak.
It was nonetheless answered by a handful of others, and within a few minutes, twelve survivors had crawled together in the corridor. Hundreds of other stasis pods lay dark and quiet. All of them were the same, bodies stiff and weak from cryosleep despite the safety measures, the electrical stimulation of their muscles and the nutrients fed to them intraveneously.
Finally, his mouth and throat cleared enough to work. "Vigil!" he shouted at the walls. "Attend me!"
From the air, nothing came, no voice or holographic display. Tsarik murmured quietly, "Perhaps it has suffered damage as well?"
Without looking, Ksad backhanded him, the force weak but the meaning perfectly apparent, and the maintenance caste cowered. "Vigil!" he shouted again, the other scientist castes around him waiting for his lead. After a minute of silence, he carefully worked his way to his feet, leaning against the wall of dark pods. "We head for the center of the facility, and find any other survivors along the way."
"Understood," eleven others stated in unison, and began carefully helping each other, even Tsarik. Until they found others, they would need every body available, and caste ranking mattered less in the face of possible starvation.
They had made it only a hundred meters or so when a rumbling, grinding noise echoed through the corridor, growing closer. They waited, flexing fingers and preparing their biotics, lacking any other weapons. They were Prothean, of course, but while even the lowest Prothean was still superior to any one of their subject races, weapons would have improved their odds against a horde.
The noise soon resolved into an automated transport car, inching along heavily. "Greetings, researcher Ishan," Vigil's voice came scratchily from the speaker on the vehicle. "Please board the vehicle, and I will bring you to one of the intact storerooms with food and water."
"What has happened here?" Ksad asked. He wanted information far more badly than food, no matter how weak he felt in body, it was nothing compared to the weakness in his mind. "Where is everyone else? You had supplies enough to keep everyone in stasis for two hundred years!"
"Yes, researcher. It has been eight hundred thirty two years, seven months, and two days since you went into stasis." Ksad nearly fell to his knees as everyone behind him made various noises of horror. "My current capabilities are reduced to seven percent of maximum operating capability."
"Do you have tools on this thing?" Tsarik asked quietly. It was out of place, but Ksad's thoughts were still whirling too badly to chastise him. "I think I can fix this enough to get us to food and water in half the time."
"There is an emergency toolkit in the rear of the vehicle, maintenance Tsarik," Vigil said in the same tone of voice. "I can answer any questions while we wait for you to complete your maintenance."
The researchers all carefully sat on the seats, the padding crumbling and falling away as they rested on it, their bodies heavy against the thin metal frames. "Give me the highlights first, Vigil," Ksad ordered.
"As you know, the Reapers were purging our colonies and planets for eighty-seven years before it was decided to enter into cryosleep. The estimates at the time was that the Prothean armed forces would gather, catch the synthetic invaders in a decisive attack at the Citadel, and then scatter to protect the remaining colony worlds, evacuating those that would not be suitably protected.
"This plan was attempted and failed sixty three years after you entered cryosleep." The VI continued to talk over continued cries of shock and horror. "Eighty percent of the Prothean forces assaulted the Citadel. They proved to be outmassed four to one by Reaper forces. They were destroyed in their entirety. Despite the loss of defensive firepower, the Reapers did not accelerate their conquest of our people.
"They systematically invaded every single world, capturing the population and using a still unspecified method to indoctrinate the population. Some indoctrinated prisoners were used to infiltrate unconquered worlds, assisting the Reapers in subjugating the free Protheans. Others were taken for harvesting of an unspecified nature."
Silence reigned. "Then the Cosmic Imperative has decided the Protheans were not destined to succeed," Marik cried, the biologist clutching his hands together so tightly the jointed creaked.
"These Reapers rule the galaxy, then?" Ksad asked acidly. "Why did you bother to awaken us?"
"The Reapers completed their subjugation of our civilization twenty years ago today," Vigil responded, synthesized voice still empty of emotion. "They then universally returned to the Citadel and vanished back to wherever they came from. Forty seven percent of my sensors aboard the station are still broadcasting on encrypted FTL channels. They have departed."
Confused silence reigned, broken only by the quiet clink of the tools Tsarik was using. "Are there any other Protheans alive anywhere?" Ksad finally asked.
"Unknown. Ninety seven percent of the beacon network has ceased broadcasting. It is possible more of the network is intact but in respond-only mode." The engine panel closed with a squeal. "The vehicle is operational. Tsarik's repairs have increased functionality to fourteen percent. Please hold any more questions until we arrive." Grimly, they all held tightly to the armrests of their chairs as it slowly accelerated, still slow, but without the horrible grinding noise from a moment before.
Turning away from the dark corridor, Ksad stared at the maintenance caste. "Tsarik," he said sharply, and the smaller male flinched slightly. "Why were you in the pod of researcher Loran?"
He twitched. "I was finishing maintenance on it when the alert went out. She went to find another empty pod to use, and instructed me to use hers as soon as I could fix the defective components." His head dipped in subjugation. "I completed my repairs and entered the pod twenty minutes after the alert."
"Vigil must not have realized the difference," Jorsh said from her seat beside him.
Ksad glared at her, but she met his gaze bravely. Almost disappointed, he turned away, his gaze back to following their path. The facility had decomposed little to the eye, merely lots of burned out lights and a thick layer of dust or dirt. They stopped near a random door he didn't recognize, and they carefully descended from the vehicle. "The only food supplies that have survived are hardened military rations," Vigil informed them, "but there is enough food and water to supply you for twenty seven years. After that, if the water filtration system has not been repaired to full functionality, you will either risk infection from unclean water, die of thirst, or must somehow find a way off the planet."
Grimly, they moved into the room, Tsarik calmly opening one box and distributing food packets and sealed cubes of potable water. They ate and drank in silence. "Vigil," Ksad said when they had finished, "take us to a functional beacon. We need to risk contacting anyone still present out there."
"But Ksad," Jorsh countered, "you heard what Vigil said. The Reapers were indoctrinating our people somehow." She looked at the vehicle, currently their only link to the AI. "Did they discover any way to counter the effects?"
"Negative. I can determine if anyone has fallen to Reaper indoctrination, but the only method found to stop an indoctrinated person was to kill them." They all fell silent again.
"I think it's worth the risk," Marik said, waiting for a gesture from Ksad to continue. "Look at us. Twelve Protheans? Even if we were all in physical shape to do so, we cannot repopulate our race. We might not even get this facility operational again." Tsarik nodded silently, causing Ksad to glare at him. "If there's truly no one out there, our species is finished," he said, pheromones drifting with his meaning, carrying visions of empty, barren cities.
Tsarik cautiously gestured for permission to speak, and after a moment, Ksad reluctantly granted it. "I cannot repair the entire facility by myself. If there are others out there, if they can join us, unless there are other maintenance caste," he paused, obviously nervous, "some must learn beside me." Several of the researchers twitched in anger, causing him to flinch back sharply, while others, like Marik, motioned for bitter acceptance.
Ksad stared out into the faint darkness of the tunnel, the occasional shaft of light coming through skylights no longer kept perfectly clear of dirt turning everything a murky brown. "We must attempt contact. I can consent to no changes until I know the fate of others of our species," he said at last. "Vigil, can you transport us there?"
"Negative, researcher. This vehicle can bring you approximately two thirds of the distance, but a flood and mud slide one hundred forty three years ago has left the only passageway large enough for the vehicle unsuitable for travel."
"How far would we have to walk, then?" Marik asked.
"Three point four kilometers." Most of them were already shaking their heads. "There are some sleeping quarters still intact within range of this vehicle, however."
"Alright," Ksad conceded, "We bring some food and water with us, and spend the next several days regaining our strength and planning." He gestured, and they moved crates of food and water, four of them needed to lift a single crate in their weakened arms. With their supplies carefully secured, they let the vehicle carry them away, into a very bleak future.