This was weird.
I mean, the entire situation was more than weird, but this particular subject matter was also incredibly, inexplicably odd.
There was an orange glow coming off the device as I held it in my hands, staring down at the holographic screen. The man peered over his desk, giving me a look that suggested he thought I was mad just standing there gazing down at the omni-tool as if I had never seen one before. To be fair, I had in game. I had seen some props in ComicCon around that time in May. But it had never become an available option where I could hold one. A real one.
It was even more baffling, to hear why I had this.
"Your boyfriend dropped it off earlier, said you left it at his apartment."
Boyfriend.
What in the duck of ducking duckery.
I was single. Sworn to never go into a relationship. Too much mess. Too much drama. Too much heartache.
I didn't need one.
I didn't want one.
More importantly-
I didn't have one.
"Thanks?" I sounded uncertain even to myself. The man gave a nod of acknowledgement, before then handing me something else.
I blinked in surprise at the sight of my purple and blue framed glasses in his grasp. I had actually forgotten about them, considering the circumstances. People would probably glance and stare, due to the fact if anyone had sight problems they'd fix it with any futuristic eye laser surgery they had. I chose to pocket them. I couldn't wear them outside for fear of suspicion- which sucked. I preferred looking at the world in HD, I supposed I would have to brave eye surgery at some point.
I wasn't blind, if I didn't wear them, I could still see. But I was short sighted. Anything in the distance was a little blurry, like an out of focused camera. I couldn't make out the finer details in faces until they were a few feet away from me. With my specs, it sharpened to HD.
Stepping back, I focused my attention toward my new omni-tool.
I sort of stared at it like it was going to burn me or spontaneously explode.
How do I… use it?
I didn't want to ask the man, fear of looking stupid, and just quickly hurried along where I believed the exit to be, hesitating slightly before stepping out of the precinct, half afraid of what was awaiting me outside. I didn't even know where am was supposed to go, or where my 'home' was.
I was even more befuddled on the subject of how I got out of the interrogation. Did someone help me? Why the hell was there evidence of my existence? Why was I registered? Was this just a very vivid dream after all and I did that out of sheer panic? Did I manifest those files in my dream state?
Just as an ache begun to throb in the side of my skull, my omni-tool suddenly pinged.
Feeling a frown crease on my forehead, I brought up the omni-tool and looked across, around and underneath it until I could figure out how to 'turn it on' and it brought up a menu. 1 new message flashed on my screen. With a small amount of hesitance, I tapped it.
"Go to the elevator. Press down."
My breath sharply faltered, organ in my chest lunging to my throat. What in the hell…?
I stood there for a good five minute whilst vacantly staring down at the orange holographic device, trying to decipher how to reply back before realising I couldn't. It was a closed conversation.
There was another ping.
"Leap of faith. You're not alone here."
That was all it said.
Even as I waited for another response by my blank expression and just uselessly standing there. There was nothing. I found myself casting my eyes up at the ceiling, trying to find a camera or something where this person could be spying on me. But found nothing.
Again, I express- what the ducking duck of all the quacking duckery.
Another ping.
"You can start by leaving the precinct."
Clenching my jaw, I shakily edged forward, the sliding doors parting before me to reveal another set of doors. Reluctance to blindly trust this person messaging me weighed heavily on my feet like anchors, stopping me from shuffling further. Okay. It's as easy as pie. Just keep going.
But what if…
Fuck.
This guy (or woman) could be some insane serial killer or something but it wasn't like I had another choice. I didn't know where to go, what to do- this could lead to some fucking answers.
I forced myself to step forward.
The second set of doors parted before me, and my jaw dropped.
Beyond the double doors was a skyline of light, holographic billboards on every corner, every skyscraper, some even soaring in the skies above the air traffic, shilling whatever alien product they were trying to advertise. Seemingly chromed walls, color hued lights coming out from buildings with tinted windows of every spectrum, red, blue… I stood, jaw dropped, head swivelling about as I tried to take it all in at once.
It was, literally, a city of light.
Whoa.
Almost reluctantly, I took a step.
There was another ping. My eyes trailed across the screen.
"Silver Lotus Estates. Check the map."
Map?
Like it said, there was some sort of GPS system. After fumbling for about ten minutes I managed to find it and get it up, trying to silence the questions building up rapidly in my mind. Who the hell was this guy? Why was I here? How was I here? Why Mass Effect of all things? Did this guy put me here somehow?
Well, there was only one way to find out.
I looked down, tearing my eyes away from the sight, finding myself in the main parking lot for the… air cars? A few of what looked to be C-Sec squad cars sat in their spots, cold and silent, void of passengers, waiting to be used. Beyond, the streets, weren't as packed as I had expected.
Is this even a street?
I wasn't used to seeing a street with no cars driving on it, since they were all high up and flying about. Last time I was outside, I was on the Presidium, now I'm in one of the Wards. Should've paid more attention to my cellmate earlier, because I remotely remember her telling me which ward I was in.
I had started walking, putting some distance between me and the precinct. There was a multitude of aliens just walking about going on their business, ranging from turians, scarier looking than Garrus himself to asari wearing what that looked to be like their version of business suits, which was baring the sides of their torso while covering everything else. Fast walking salarians to lumbering elcors, waddling volus' and hanars… I had no idea how to describe the way they were moving. The odd human here and there…
The sidewalk I was on happened to be a raised pathway. Below, I could see more movement, what looked like an cafe on the other side, a krogan of all things, sitting at a table chatting amicably with an asari as if it were any other normal day.
And holy shit, even from this distance, that krogan looked imposing. Just the sheer amount of muscles in its arms, it-he looked like he could easily snap someone's neck with just a simple backhand. Maybe tear it right off.
Not a good mental image I needed right now.
Figuring that my quick developing habit of staring, staring and staring wasn't going to help me right now, I managed to force myself to look away and follow the instructions on the map provided by the omni-tool.
Woah.
I felt small.
I felt very tiny standing timidly in front of this tall ass apartment building. It rose smoothly straight into the air, towering over me at a rather impressive feet and had a hue of blue light glinting off it.
"Room 47."
Right.
My stomach coiled uneasily as I slowly eased myself into the building. There was no receptionist, so I just headed toward the elevator after waiting around for a few minutes. Eventually it hissed open and I stepped out into the corridor, scanning the door numbers. I blanked the moaning from one apartment, averting my eyes with a tinge of heat boiling underneath my skin. Well then.
45… Red lock.
46… Red lock.
47… Red lock?
I stopped in front of the door and held my breath. Everything stayed still. There was no noise. There was no nothing. Just the crimson holographic circular light smack dab in the middle of the closed entrance.
In the blink of an eye- it switched green.
Overwhelmed with a sense of emotions that pushed pressure down on my lungs, I rose my hand to open the door. I let out a timid yelp when it hissed open and stumbled back for a minute. After the revelation that I was being stupid I edged myself into the apartment, ready to charge the person that dragged me around the Citadel wards and- possibly the person who placed me here.
The apartment was big-or at least it seemed big to me. It was probably small or medium sized to the mundane human or resident of the Citadel. There was a view of the streets over by the side with wooden flooring that stretched out. A small kitchen by the right of the entrance, situated on a slightly higher platform with a step.
There was a TV by the long glass plane which revealed the outside, along with a coffee table and navy sofa. It didn't look like mine at home, which was squishy and had a bunch of pillows chucked onto it- no. This one was L shaped, sleek and looked purely for decoration rather than comfort.
The TV was decently sized and most likely considered small to the norm here, probably 37 inch and almost comparable to the flatscreens back home. It was mounted on the metallic, futuristic wall and thinner than I could've thought possible. I spotted a square screen by the kitchen, most likely a control panel to handle the lighting of the apartment. Gazing around at the room, I jolted when the was another hiss before concluding it was the front door behind me. I turned back around, feeling incredibly small due to the high, arched ceiling.
"Dude." I mumbled to myself, reaching up to my head as I tilted it back to get a good look.
Dude indeed.
"Nice isn't it?"
I screamed at the unwelcome voice from nowhere, whirling around to face the intruder. Fingers wrapped around my small wrists to stop me from falling. I thrashed against the stranger and cursed up a storm- throwing something about a melon bitch-fucker in their face, trying to punch and kick them into letting me go.
"H-hey now, whoa! Oww- I mean no harm!"
I faltered, gasping for air and moving my wide eyes up to the source of the voice. A salarian, looked just like one of the many that I had already seen on my way here but this was the first I've seen up close. Huge, shiny black eyes met mine. Pale, almost aqua or turquoise colored skin. Smooth too, like a baby lizard or something akin to that. Did that mean he was young?
After it was evident I had calmed down, he released me. I quickly put some distance between us, holding a hand to my chest to stop my heart from beating out of my ribcage. I reached behind me frantically, bracing myself against the window, leaning my head against the cool, solid glass to soothe myself. A very loud hammering pounded in my ears, blood rushing through my veins with adrenaline.
"Sorry," he quickly said, words spilling from his mouth in a torrent. "Should've said something or made some indication of my presence. Name's Rannadrill Sapkowski Ohip Duzon Laestarth Laben."
"Ranna-what?" I didn't even attempt to repeat what he just spewed. The messages from the omni-tool flashed in my eyes. "Did you bring me here?"
The breathless, accusatory demand widened his dark eyes a fraction, making them seem bigger than what they supposedly were. A pretty impressive feat itself considering that his eyes were already pretty damn huge to begin with, just like the rest of his kind. Come to think of it, I swear his eyes were at least four- no, at least five times the size of mine. Holy shit.
"Erm, pardon? Bring you here? I'm afraid I don't exactly follow what you mean- wait, are you in trouble? One second, it'll just take a moment to dial C-Sec-"
I quickly stop him as his omni-tool turns on. "No! That uh- that won't be necessary." He isn't the guy. Either that, or he was pretending to be oblivious. "You just…" I swiftly changed topic. "Do you live here?"
His big eyes blinked at me. "Why yes, and you are? I do believe it's important that I know the proper way to address you if we're to live together as housemates for some time."
Live together?
What?
"Sorry, what?" I echoed my thoughts aloud, doing a double take.
"Housemates. Living together." He repeated, then tilted his head to the side slightly. "Oh, apologises- did my translator glitch? Do humans call it something else? Are you not the… tenant?"
I pressed my lips together, brain scrambled in this development. Living together? Did the mystery man who sent me here also give me residence?
How polite, I dryly thought to myself whilst suppressing a sour scowl. Also wondering why on earth he'd give me a roommate. Did he assume I wouldn't be able to afford this by myself? Did he or she not realise that it would probably be harder to conceal my identity whilst living with an alien. A salarian, who was staring at me like I was crazy- and was most likely right.
At this point I was struggling to keep both oars in the water.
In other words; I was losing it.
Whilst the concept of living with an alien was fascinating and I should've probably taken the opportunity, it made me think about the rent. How would I pay for it? I didn't have a job.
It made me curious.
"Did I pay in advance? I… can't remember." I couldn't think of an excuse other than weak memory. It was more logical than some dude sent me here, I have no job and no current income to pay rent. "Sorry, my memory is that of a goldfish right now."
"Yes, a month in advance. You don't… remember? You didn't mention your amnesiac tendencies in the application…" As far as I could tell, he looked contemplative. Putting a hand up to his chin and stroking it. "Is this a common issue?"
"It won't be an issue!" I quickly tried to salvage the situation, pushing myself off the glass window and clearing my throat. "Sorry, you ...startled me so I'm not thinking clearly- I'm Penelope Daniels, but I'd appreciate it if you just called me Nell." I extended a hand to him with a small smile, trying not to quiver underneath his surveying, eerie big eyes.
Dude this is so trippy.
I sincerely hoped I wouldn't start seeing flying pigs or a familiar blonde super saiyan doing the Macarena out of the blue. If I was seeing video game aliens, it was more than likely that magical beings or cartoon characters would begin jumping jacks around my head.
He stared down at my palm in puzzlement for what amounted to a fraction of a second before quickly correcting himself. Right, Salarians. "Ah yes, the human handshake. Read about it much, is this how you do it?" He placed both his hands around mine and shook it enthusiastically, head bowed slightly in a strangely Japanese, polite manner. Or at least I thought it was Japanese.
Either he had watched too much anime or he was reading the wrong research based on my cultural background. I was white- and from England at that, the most polite thing we did was hold the door open. Depending on where you were from- if you were from Hackney or Ilford the most friendly greeting you'd get is a knife to the gut out or a glare, or so I heard from my friends that lived there. It wasn't the fairy tale, glittery place other countries made Britain out to be.
If you shook someone's hand like this poor little salarian was doing, you'd most likely get asked if you wanna get stabbed or if you were on some fucking drug.
His touch was odd and took some getting used to by how real it felt. I couldn't help the short burst of a giggle that escaped me, which was almost hysterical. "Yes, that's how you do it." I tried to recall his name. "Sorry, um, would you mind telling me your name again? It's longer than I'm used to, humans don't tend to have… so many names."
"Oh right, it's Rannadrill Sapkowski Ohip Duzon Laestarth Laben." For a moment I despaired at the thought of having to remember that for the next few weeks. "But I suppose you could just call me Laben, it's my given name and the rest… well doubt you'll be very interested to know about colonies that even we barely know about."
Relief spread through me. Oh thank god. "It's nice to meet you Laben- and it'll be fascinating to know, but just… let me settle in first, yes?"
"Of course, of course!" He bowed his head again, still slightly arched over in his sign of respect. My heart raced. My third or so proper interaction with an alien. This is… enthralling. "If you follow me, I'll show you around. There isn't much, but I find that it is suitable to my needs. I read up on human customs to research about your species living space and moved a few things, you should find it to your satisfaction."
In an attempt to keep a grip on reality, I pocketed my hands and curled my nails around the denim of my jeans. "Thank you, Laben. I appreciate it."
"I look forward to living with you." He bowed again, I was about to assure him he didn't need to be so formal but he whizzed off faster than I could blink. I stood there for a minute, allowing all of this to sink in- then his head popped out from behind the doorframe, what I assumed was confusion twisted on his alien features. "I apologize, was I not clear in my instructions?"
"Sorry Laben, I'll be right with you, I'm just…" I weakly gestured with my arms to my surroundings. "Taking it all in."
His eyes observed me- and I felt uncomfortable underneath his scrutinising. Then something seemed to click in his brain. "Oh yes, humans have slower capacity in their reactions. I apologize in hurrying you along, but I must be leaving for work soon."
If it were anyone else I would have felt insulted at him calling me slow but knew salarians were naturally quicker and let it slide. I filled my air with lungs, releasing a soft sigh before shuffling over to the impatient salarian.
He glided around the apartment with practised ease, which had me nearly increasing my pace to a light jog to stay caught up with him. The bathroom was small, but to my relief it had a shower instead of a bath. I supposed it suited to the salarian, being more hasty they'd probably not like baths. Not that I was complaining, my preference was a shower.
The kitchen, I had already seen, but I played along to his tour guide. Keeping a keen ear out when he was explaining to not touch certain foods unless I wanted a quick trip to the clinic, but then zoning out of the conversation when he droned on for too long about how well the fridge worked.
He lead me to his room, instructing me to knock before entering and wait for him to say it was alright for me to come in. Then he guided me to my own room, explaining a few mundane things to me outside it. To not make too much noise at noise when he was home off work because he liked to sleep. To tidy up after myself. If I cook or order takeaway, activate the Scentiser which apparently was turned on by the control panel and got rid of stenches in the house. Standard rules, pretty much.
"Sorry to leave you," his eyes darted to the holographic clock mounted on the wall nearby. It was evening. Right. He mentioned in his ramblings that he worked at the clinic. "But if I don't leave now I may be running late. Lock the door behind me, I have a key."
Before I could nod or even blink he dashed out of the apartment, leaving me standing there in befuddlement. Everything slowly clicked.
I was on the Citadel.
I was on the Citadel.
I was on the Citadel.
I was on the Citadel. I got arrested. Met Garrus Vakarian- Garrus fucking Vakarian. A mystery stranger lead me to this apartment and now I was living with a salarian.
I collapsed to the floor, harshly stinging my knees. My blurred vision was cast to the window, gazing out at the Presidium in shock as my mind finally processed the gravity of my new reality. My hand drifted softly to the side of my throbbing head and I suppressed a groan scratching its way up my throat. Tears rolled down my face, dropping onto my lap and dampening the denim.
A long, sigh full of dread emitted from me. My voice cracked, betraying any restraint that I managed to build. My own overwhelming exploding of feelings knocking the air out of my lungs, invisible hands thrusting into my gut to wretch my insides. "Fuck me sideways and throw my sister in the canal…"
I was stuck here.
This wasn't a prank. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a delusion in some coma. My coffee hadn't been spiked. I wasn't on acid. I wasn't on any sort of drug.
I was stuck, in an alternate dimension. In a fictional place that shouldn't even exist- because it was fictional. I didn't belong here- this shouldn't be possible at all. I didn't know why. I didn't know how. I didn't even care.
I wanted to go home.
My wailing shivered right through me, sending a quaking shudder down my spine. A quiet sob ripped from me and I put my hands over my mouth, muffled crying forced into my palms. Once I started, I couldn't stop. An intense feeling of dark forlorn seized me with a tight, suffocating, grasp.
It squashed me down, a loaded weight pushing down my shoulders and squeezing my lungs with a firm grip. My eyes couldn't stop pouring with tears that fell down my cheeks like Niagra falls.
I was here.
I was here.
I was here.
Joining the harsh grieving sorrow in my heart, a deep longing for those I loved and my home hit me with full force. I was gone. They were gone. We were separated indefinitely. I would've given anything in that moment of time to get them back. To get my life back.
It wasn't much. I was just finishing college with no idea what to do, in that point of my age to constantly question with doubt if I was good enough, if I would make it and what the hell I was going to do with my life.
It seemed pitiful, to think how ungrateful I was. That I thought it was small. I didn't treasure my family or my friends nearly as much as I should have, I should've hugged and kissed everyone of them and told them how much I just loved them. I thought my small life wasn't much or going anywhere.
But it was mine.
And it was viciously torn out of my hands.
Right now, I'd do anything to get that back.
After what seemed like hours had passed with me sobbing out my hearts content on the ground, I let out a small, wavering sigh and pressed my hands flat against the cool floor, struggling to my feet.
I had my mental breakdown.
But now it was time to figure out what the actual fuck to do.
Of course I care how I got here- and why.
Alas, the first thing I needed to sort out was how I was going to stay alive.
The rent was mysteriously paid out in advance, by whom I didn't know or care to find out at that moment in time. But I had a month to get a job or acquire skills to get said job so I could continue living here.
I was given a chance to live here. I was alone more than ever. Isolated from any aid other than the mysterious stranger that I couldn't contact. He or she probably wouldn't pay my rent forever or my living expenses.
I somehow severely doubted that my art skills would come in handy here. It was more than likely that my art was "out of date" in this era. Artists here were no doubt better, more improved, had more techniques, more practised. Not to mention more time to have experience. Humans lived a little longer in the future- and aliens lived much, much older years. Far surpassing us in age and experience.
I worked behind the till a few times, but the process could be more complicated- though they'd probably teach me in training- or did they not do that here? Surely they did?
No point standing around wondering, I decided, letting out a long sigh as I turned to leave. Only one way to find out after all.
Unfortunately, as I quickly discover, whoever dumped me here saw no need to fabricate for me qualifications of any kind for me to use as reference whilst job hunting. Or even the decency to make a copy of the one I used back home.
"Fuck." I hissed between my teeth, raking a stressed hand through my hair as the door closed behind me. I could still hear the Turian's condescending words in my ears, like it's taunting me. Not that the one before that had gone any better. That Asari was a bitch. Bastard.
Dejectedly, I pulled up the omni-tool, staring at the Citadel job central extranet page. Not like I had many options to begin with, given my obvious lack of academic qualifications to begin with. Or reference.
Even the simple ones that didn't require qualifications, like a barista or storefront assistants proved to be a problem. I quickly figured out after my fifth application that unless I had my skin painted blue and surgically grafted some tentacle crests to the back of my head, it was highly unlikely that I'll find employment in those areas. Made sense though, who wouldn't want an asari manning the front? After all they were considered to be universally attractive and appealing to almost all species out there.
I mean, come on, even salarians find themselves attracted to them.
And of course, there's the less than ideal options. But there's no way I'm even considering looking those up just yet. I didn't want to get on stage and have men and aliens alike staring at me with lewd expressions, grabby hands and they'd most likely only hire asari's anyway.
I'm not that desperate.
Yet, my treacherous mind whispered.
I spent all night peering at the orange screen until my eyes stung and a throb hammered away at the back of my skull. Wiping my hand across my face, I sighed in exhaustion and leaned back against the chair. There must be something that I can do.
My eyes drifted around the apartment for a break, noting that the salarian- Laben, was rather tidy. The sofa was picked clean of any dust bunnies, windows blindingly polished with not a spec of dirt, the tv unblemished with any fingerprints. The floor was absolutely spotless. I could picture him zipping around the rooms like a hamster on coffee, obsessively scrubbing like he was possessed. He seemed like a very neat alien. He kind of reminded me of my nan, who didn't favour slobs- which I kinda was. But if I wanted to keep my first apartment, I had to keep everything clean.
Something clicked in my brain.
Cleaning.
Eagerly, I sat up and started to search for job applications for a cleaner. Janitor. Anything to do with cleaning. It wasn't the most graceful or elegant job- but it paid. After searching and searching and searching, I stopped on one particular cleaning job. My eyes widened a fraction.
It paid well.
Somewhat. As well as it could get for being a janitor anyway.
An hour or two probably passed during the time I had sent out my CV to multiple companies, then the door hissed open. One singular glance at the entrance revealed a familiar salarian- who seemed surprised I was still up. Well, it was early in the morning.
"Hey Laben, how was work?"
"Uneventful thankfully," he blinked rapidly, then started towards the kitchen. "And you? How's yours? What do you work as anyway, never occurred to me to ask earlier."
"Uh..." I scratched my cheek, averting my eyes. After a small moment of inner turmoil, I decided to be honest. "I'm looking for work currently. But I sent out a billion applications today- that's why I'm still up. I haven't stopped since you left."
"A billio-" he started but recovered quickly from his surprise. A Salarian thing probably, must be nice. Minus the forty year shot lifespan that is. "Really? Impressive."
By his reaction, his probably didn't understand the concept of human exaggeration. Although it felt like it. I licked my bottom lip nervously and turned back to my omni-tool, swiftly changing the topic. "So, I know this is probably very cheeky to ask but would you mind paying to get me a takeaway? I'll pay you back later, I haven't eaten all day and my funds haven't come in."
I felt like a freeloader, but what choice did I have? I had no credits. I was hungry. If I got the job interview, then succeeded in getting the job and worked on an empty stomach I didn't want to faint whilst cleaning out a toilet. I couldn't remember the last time I ate, not even at home.
"Hmm," he pulled out something from the cabinet frowning slightly. "Is the food not to your liking? Tried to get something that's edible for both our species. But sure, I'll see what I can find, just try not to make a habit out of it."
I looked into the cabinet earlier- all the food he got was weird looking things and I had no idea if it was even remotely edible.
He was a sweetheart, I swear to god.
"Thank you Laben," I wanted to hug him, but didn't want to push boundaries and make him uncomfortable. "Seriously, thank you so much- I promise that I'll pay you back."
"Don't mention it." He opened up his omni-tool, and I had a short conversation with him about pizza before he sent for it to be delivered. Meatfeast, BBQ base. Dough balls with garlic butter.
I officially loved Laben.
