.

RESURRECTION

TWO: RELEASE

I was soaring once more.

Well, soaring in a figurative sense, anyway.

In reality, it felt more like I was being roughly squeezed through a tube, with more focus on raw efficiency than on any sense of propriety or comfort. I would have thrown up again, were I physically capable of doing so. However, I still managed to make space for an eloquent and insightful thought or two.

Ohgodfuckthis-

...

Then I was forcibly spat out, unceremoniously spilling onto a cold, uncaring steel floor, my limbs flailing about as if I were a rag doll. A thunk sounded as my head banged against the ground.

I gagged, and rolled over just in time to violently empty out my stomach.

"Guhh…"

I heaved once more, summoned enough energy to crawl away from the resulting puddle, then slumped to the floor, closed my eyes, and laid still.

God-fucking-damnit... They couldn't make this process a little easier?

Feeling no particular sense of urgency, I stayed there for another minute with my eyes closed, allowing my brain to bitch and moan while my battered body complained. Only after it passed did I lift my head and take in my surroundings.

The first thing I became aware of was a dull, continuous thrumming in the background, reverberating through the air and ground into my very bones. If I wasn't mistaken...it had a sort of beat to it.

...wubwubwubwubwubwub-

What is that?

Blinking furiously, I lifted my chin off the ground and tried to focus. As my senses cleared, I could begin to discern fluctuations in the rhythm of the beat.

...wubwubwubwubwubwubwubwubwubwubwubWUBWUB-

Grimacing, I spat out several lingering chunks of putrid vomit and clambered painfully onto my knees. As my vision refocused, I could finally start to make out my surroundings-

-only to see that it was dark. Again.

"Goddamnit." I muttered, feeling for some sort of surface to prop myself up on. I found it, a nondescript crate, and hauled myself to my feet-

"Get another refill for that keg!" someone yelled as a door I hadn't seen in the darkness suddenly opened and the music went up tenfold. I hurled myself back down so quickly that I nearly slipped and sat down in the puddle, which had started to smell something awful. I heard some shuffling, a box or two getting scraped around, some grunting, and then receding footsteps. Then the door closed, returning the room to silence. Well, relative, anyway.

Cautiously, I peered back over the top of the crate. It seemed clear for the moment, so I migrated over to a non-contaminated corner and examined one of the labels.

AVSOT VODKA 100x 2L BOTTLES

STORE IN COOL, DRY PLACE

"Loud music, alcohol...a club." I muttered, putting the pieces together. "Seriously? Of all places..."

I trailed off, noticing a flickering on the edges of my vision. I blinked, and a blue-tinted HUD-like overlay unexpectedly popped up to show Saffron peering back out at me. "Ah, there you are." she declared, adjusting something on her end. "Nice ride?"

My glare told her exactly what I thought of her ride.

The asari snickered. "Point taken. Anyway, I have some info for you, but that can wait until you find someplace less public. For the immediate moment, you'll need to be able to communicate with me, so here's the relevant info. Ready?" A nod from me. "Ok. For initiating a connection, think the word indefatigable, and visualize this office. Indefatigable. Try it."

Her image faded, and I was again staring at the crate. I blinked furiously and shook my head to clear it. Right. Inde...Indefat...fuck! Pronounication... Indefatigable.

Saffron's face reappeared. "Good. I'm going to cut this short, but I'm leaving a small info-dump in your DPM module. Passcode for the DPM is Veritas. Data packet is Sorge. Feel free to browse at your leisure."

"Hold up." I exclaimed, sitting up straighter. "DPM?"

"You'll figure it out." the asari said casually, "Oh yeah, I also left you a thousand creds. Try not to blow it all at once, since that's all the boost you're getting." And with that, she was gone.

"Mmph." I grumbled to myself, feeling a faint throbbing in the back of my head. I reached down to scratch an itch on my calves, and paused. "Huh. They changed my clothes."

Gone was the dress wear of earlier. Instead, I was now dressed in contemporary genre-appropriate wear, with semi-loose pants and a fitted casual shirt. The material was some sort of synthetic, stretching softly when put to the touch. My shoes were...something I couldn't identify, but at least they were comfortable enough.

Feeling something in my pants pocket, I reached in and pulled a small chip of some sort. A quick examination showed a strip much like a credit card, and a button that displayed '1000' when depressed. My credit chit, then. I gotta be conservative with this, at least until I can get more. Like, way more.

At least I'm not an alcoholic.

I shook my head to clear out once more, and then resumed peeking over the crate. The music was still as loud as ever, although thankfully muffled. A loud cheer went through the crowd on the other side as a new track started up.

I frowned. "Right." I muttered, gathering myself. "Let's get out of here."

"No thanks, really." I said quickly, hurriedly ducking to escape the drunken grasps of a woman who looked old enough to be my grandmother. I weaved through the crowd, a pulsing mass of indistinct figures that flickered in and out of neon strobes of light. Pushing between several dancing asari and a boisterous group of cheering salarians, I emerged at the edge of the crowd with the entrance in sight, my heart rate pulsing worriedly all the while.

Almost there...

Wishing to make my exit as unobtrusive as possible, I waited until the bouncer was occupied with a smattering of giggling college girls before slipping out onto the streets-

-and stopping dead in my tracks.

"God. Damn."

I'd been to my share of cities. San Francisco, New York, Rome, Taipei…those were impressive, but this...

This was a city.

The erratic lighting of the club hadn't been well-suited to analyzing my surroundings and its crowded, sweaty masses. But now…

Clean, polished composite surfaces stretched off in every direction and angle that I could see. Futuristic architecture loomed overhead, all weird angles, durasteel frames, and neon advertisements. Strange technology everywhere I looked; blinking gadgets, holographic displays, gorram flying fucking cars. And the people…

Turians. Asari. Salarians. Fellow humans. The odd volus or krogan. Talons and crests and horns, poised avian strides and flowing blue grace that was human-like yet not and sharp, lithe, rapid-fire movements-

It was only after an extended pause and much gawking that I remembered to blink. "Right. Well..." I muttered. "Fuck me."

Exhaling slowly, I mentally shunted aside the part of me that wanted to wander and soak in everything - though not without difficulty - and reviewed the list of immediate priorities that I had drawn up while still in...Limbo, I guess I can call it. It wasn't very long:

1. Secure provisions for basic needs and survival.

2. Research and verify that everything in this verse is as it should be.

3. Start finding people and establishing connections.

I paused as some part of my brain considered the enormity of the task I had chosen to undertake.

You're so screwed, you realize that?

Yup.

I snorted, before returning my attention to the real world. A strange sensation washed over me as I stood there, feeling hundreds of unfamiliar beings flowing past me in that strange place in a time far distant from everything I had ever known.

I let out a faint sigh.

Best get to it, then.

I tracked the patterns on the surface in front of me, my eyes drifting up and then back down in a U-shape, before swinging around to trace a pair of circles.

It's nice to know that the sacred art of drawing dicks on public property hasn't lost any of its popularity.

I was in the bathroom of a department store a few blocks down, hunched over in a semi-lit stall. One, because it offered some privacy from casual eyes. Two, because I actually had really needed it after my stomach-churning...entrance.

Right. Now for this 'DPM' thing...what was it? ...Veritas.

I blinked as my vision dimmed and blue-tinted text began...scrolling down from above, similar to the HUD that Saffron and I had talked through earlier.

Initializing….Data Processing Matrix v.11.62.47…

Temporal Leap...verified.

Welcome Traveler [Alex Li]

Greetings, Jumper. The Data Processing Matrix (DPM) is now online, and will assist you in a multitude of functions, primarily encompassing research, information sorting, and real-time analysis.

High-technology society detected. Designated modules have been activated.

Alien societies detected. Language translation functions online.

Case Green activated. Gene mod integration complete.

With this, a menu popped up. I skimmed over several icons such as 'Codex' and 'VI Assistant' before eyeing one labeled 'Data Retrieval'. It even had a little circled '1' in the corner, just like a notification on a smartphone. After a moment, a new 'window' opened, clearly sensing my intent although nothing obvious had triggered it.

Please input authorization.

I chewed briefly on my lip. "Sorge."

Authenticating...

Verified.

Codex update complete. You now have access to a vast database regarding the workings of this universe, including history, technology, and culture. This will be updated as you progress through your travels.

I remembered the Codex from the games, and nodded to myself. That's...useful as shit. It'll definitely make research easier. That, and figuring out more about what the hell I've gotten myself into.

I looked down further.

New Message

….

It's me. If you're reading this, your DPM should be set up and ready to receive input. Feel free to play around with its functions on your own time. Keep checking back, too. I might have some new features for you from time to time.

Meanwhile, you have an idea of where you need to start. Don't expect opportunities to walk up and present themselves. Make them if you have to.

I'll be here, but I won't be your crutch. This is your gig.

Have fun. Try not to fuck up.

-S

I snorted at that last bit as I closed the window. Duly noted.

Returning to the menu, I glanced over a few more of my options. I smirked at 'Music Player', 'Enchanced Combat Sensor Suite' garnered a raised eyebrow, before I arrived at several icons with red highlights instead of the standard blue, all marked 'Function Offline'.

I quirked my mouth in appraisal. So I don't quite yet have the full functionality here. So… a 'To Be Revealed' kind of deal, I guess?

Right then...how do I close this thing?

As if responding to that thought, the HUD-like overlay winked away, and I was back to staring at bathroom stall dicks.

Doth taketh but a thought, I thought wryly before standing up and flushing. As I was washing my hands, I looked in the mirror and paused for a moment to examine myself.

I saw a tall, dark-haired Asian male standing upright, built with the solid physique of a seasoned strength athlete. Dark brown eyes stared unflinchingly back at me, framed by a angled, tensed jaw line and furrowed eyebrows over a slighted tanned canvas. Subtle lines creased his forehead, as if they had been scrunched up too many times from stress, and his eyes were wary yet sharp, and almost cold in their regard.

I don't know why I'm seeing this image in front of me right now.

That plane crumpled your car like a tin can. You were mincemeat. You were crushed beyond recognition. That should have been it. Lights out. That's a wrap.

I should be dead.

Instead, I'm not.

That's not how this is supposed to work.

I blinked, and the eyes softened slightly, as if retracting some of their edge. Out of reflex, I reached up and brushed back a few stray strands of hair as I exhaled, and lifted my chin up slightly.

Easy now. You've got a lot ahead of you. Don't need to run yourself ragged with your own thoughts.

With that, I took a breath, mentally identified and isolated the stress and apprehension of my arrival, and shoved it into a closet in my mind to be dealt with later once I had time.

Well. Shall we?

My first priority was to get myself a hot meal.

As it turned out, the entries in the Codex that I had been provided proved to be immensely useful for blending in, and not looking like a clueless nobody. In a few hours, I took crash courses in things like using my new credit chit, calling for public transport, how to use a terminal, among other things. I looked up basic cultural norms and other quirks of the proverbial melting pot that was the Citadel, all the better to blend in and not step on any toes. Or talons.

The Codex also proved to be of use in providing some real time guidance. It had some of the features that I might have expected from the extranet. In general, my DPM seemed capable of pulling data from the extranet, but it seemed unable to influence it, with no ability to say, post on a extranet forum or send messages. Among the things it could pull up, however, appeared to include what seemed to be the contemporary equivalent of Google Maps, which I quickly put to use.

It was the name that caught my eye. Pagoda's Loft. A privately-funded shelter in the lower Wards - one of many such institutions - that attended to the destitute peoples of the Yukothi District, Zakera Ward, where I had ended up. Now, I was on my way over to check it out and see what they might provide - not that I was the type of person who required luxury. I was perfectly content with a hot meal and a soft bed, and needed little else to continue functioning, at least while I got myself established.

On first impression, Yukothi District was fairly average. It wasn't super shiny, but it wasn't obviously unkempt. It had the same side streets, the same storefronts, the same offensively bright neon advertisements. The crowds were at a level what I'd normally expect from any other place, the bustling activity coalescing into tides of people flowing in and out of traffic. Overhead, to the side, and below, aircars both private and public zipped by, the more distant ones forming silver streams that seemed to soar and weave.

Continuing on, I did start to see a few groups of people standing off to the side and not really saying anything, which put me a bit on edge. People didn't just congregate in small groups and then not say anything to each other.

I could swear I felt eyes on the back of my neck as I walked.

As I passed one particular group of humans, their heads turned to regard me, and their eyes narrowed. I straightened my posture, returned the stare to let them know I was aware of their presence, and quietly wished for the folding knife I normally carried, whose absence I was now acutely aware of.

Nonetheless, I stuck to the crowds, and steered well clear of any isolated areas. It was in this area that Pagoda's Loft stood. Judging from the name, I had expected there to be some Earth influence, probably from one of the Central or East Asian religions.

What I had not expected upon walking in was to see a turian standing attentively by the entrance, humbly dressed in simple silks. A purple strip of cloth hung around his neck adorned with what I recognized to be Chinese characters, although I personally couldn't read any of it.

Upon my entrance, he clasped his hands in front of him and gave me a small nod. "Welcome, traveler."

I blinked in surprise, but unconsciously stood straighter and respectfully inclined my own head in return. "And to you as well, sir."

The turian smiled - at least, I thought he did. It was hard to tell with their kind. "I am Valmius Kavatus, the warden of this refuge, so to speak. If you are here because you need food or something to quench your thirst, head through the doors on your right and one of my brothers can help you. If you require anything, simply ask."

"I- thank you." I said, struck by the generosity of it all, mentally making a note to talk to the kind turian later.

He merely smiled again, green eyes gleaming against the darker shades of his skin. "You're welcome."

With my stomach growling, I followed Valmius' directions through the door and into a small cafeteria, where a cheerful salarian directed me through a meal line marked "LEVO". Walking through, I loaded my tray with a few staples: rice and assorted grains (thank god), some vegetables and lean meats, at least two-thirds of which were alien to me - literally, and some breads which I didn't recognize. Grabbing some fruit juice and a glass of water, I sat down in a corner and began to tear through my meal.

Ah, sweet food. How have I ever survived without you?

In my head, a few different representatives jumped in on a running commentary as I ate. The foodie was interested in the alien bits of food, contemplating the flavors and textures and assigning them to different profiles. The gym rat was concerned with maintaining an adequate caloric intake and getting enough protein to sustain my lean body mass. The snarky asshole side of me noted dryly that it was like being back at school all over again and eating meals alone in the corner. The basic primal part of me was simply happy to have something to feed an empty stomach.

As I ate, I looked around the room. A wall clock read 2100, which on Earth would have been fairly late in the evening, but due to the Wards' lack of an artificial day-night schedule, the cafeteria was still moderately occupied by other drifters of various races. A few had glanced up when I came in, but for the most part, no one paid me any mind.

My eyes furrowed as my gaze fell upon a female turian sitting in one of the corners. Most of the drifters' clothes were simple, urban, and conventional. Hers on the other hand, bore faint outlines in definite patterns and budged in places that reminded me in a way of light combat gear. I noted what looked to be a rectangular cube with engravings on her hip, which threw me off for a moment.

Oh, right. The guns fold up here. Looks like a heavy pistol, if my memory serves me correctly.

Some instinct must have alerted her to my stare, for her eyes flickered up to meet mine. I blinked at first, but held eye contact - not challengingly but firmly enough, just for a moment, and gave her a short nod.

A few minutes later, I was walking towards the corner to drop off my empty tray, when the turian's voice stopped me.

"Finding everything alright?"

It was a statement, not a question.

I took a moment to consider the speaker. A female turian, as I had thought - a bit older, in her late 30s, if I could tell correctly. Now that I was up close, I could definitely see the combat influence on her gear, and the pistol on her hip suddenly looked a lot bigger.

"Yeah, I really appreciated the meal." A pause. "Are you with..?"

"Just acquainted." she replied. "But I'm glad it's been helpful. A lot of people rely on this place."

"It's a relief to not have to worry." I agreed, stepping over and stacking my tray onto a pile.

"Well no matter where you're from, everyone gets down on their luck sometimes," the turian commented, "although you look a bit different from our usual patrons."

"How so?" I replied, tensing slightly.

Her mandibles twitched, as if in...amusement? "Most of the drifters here are on autopilot. Wake up, eat, head out to the streets or work, if they're lucky enough. That's life for them, and that's how they move." She shifted, sitting more upright. "You don't seem like a native. You seem like you're anticipating something. Like this is just a phase." I blinked, surprised at how quickly she had cut to the core of things. She shrugged in return. "I don't know what it is, but you don't seem to be here to cause trouble, so I won't ask."

"I...well, you got the gist of it." I responded, giving a faintly sheepish smile. A pause. "You don't much look like a drifter yourself, either."

"I suppose the sidearm gave it away." she quipped. "No, I'm not. Julveen Kavatus. You saw my brother on the way in. You can call me Jul."

"Alex Li." I answered, extending a hand, which she looked at for a second before shaking it. "Nice to meet you." I took a seat. "I take it you're not a Buddhist, then." I remarked, gesturing to her sidearm.

It was her turn to blink. "You know my brother's religion? I know it's human, but.."

"From a distance." I admitted. "I didn't expect to see a turian taking to it, though."

"Valmius has always been the odd one out." Jul shrugged, producing a flask and taking a sip. "My family's always served in one way or another. My parents were both decorated turian military. I have a younger sister in the Special Response Division, and I," she continued, tapping her pistol, "do some contracting work on the side."

"And your brother became a Buddhist." I noted dryly.

Jul chuckled, a soft almost-rasp. "He's always been more into the abstract side of things. Joined about five years ago? You humans had settled a bit more into the galactic stage by that point, and your culture was disseminating. He was a practitioner of asari siari already, but he was looking for more. Now he tends toward a mixture of the two."

I considered this for a moment. "I bet that contrast leads to some interesting discussions in your family."

The turian reached up to scratch something on her neck. "It could be worse," she shrugged. "We're all still turian, and we remember it means to serve. Valmius is just less willing to deal in violence unless he has no other choice." She frowned, or at least I thought she did. "At least he stays out of trouble. This area of the Wards isn't exactly the prettiest."

I furrowed my brow, remembering the loner groups from earlier, in particular the one with the humans. "In what way, exactly?"

Jul's expression became a scowl. "Some dealers around here. Higher population of sand blasters than the average." It took me a moment to realize she was talking about red sand. "And the gang activity that comes along with all that. Minor presence around here, but they're stronger next door over in Yalsemata District." The turian paused to take another swig from her flask. "I don't think they like the congregation of drifters. Sometimes we get a few shady people coming around. My brother's a pretty diplomatic figure, but sometimes they get a little bit aggressive." She paused. "I'm sorry, I've been rambling and you probably just want to get to bed."

"No, it's fine." I replied sincerely. "I'm probably going to need to rely on this place for a bit longer, and it's good to know more about the area."

She nodded her assent. "Still, it's getting late, so to speak. I'm here for a few more days, so if you want to learn more, we can keep chatting tomorr- ah, Valmius. There you are."

I turned, and there was the turian who had greeted me at the door. Now that the siblings were in the same room, I could see the resemblance. True, they were opposite sexes, Jul's skin tone was a bit lighter, and Valmius was a bit shorter, but both had the same green face paint and the same green eyes.

"Jul." he said, smiling briefly, before turning to me. "Hello again, traveler. I see you've met my older sister."

"Just talking, getting a feel for things around here." I responded. "Thank you for the meal, by the way."

"Think nothing of it." he responded sincerely, and I could tell that he meant it. "There are beds open if you wish to sleep, just back through the door and straight across from the entrance."

"Any activity from those hu- those other humans today?" Jul asked. To me, she added. "Some of those aggressors I was talking about."

"Not today," Valmius responded, "but I don't believe this will be the last we've been of them. Hopefully they can see reason, but-"

"You know as well as I do that that's not going to happen." Jul sighed, taking one final swig.

"There's no telling if I don't try." he replied firmly, and that seemed to be that.

"Extend one hand if you want, but you'd better have a dagger ready in the other." she responded, and stood up. "I'll be back in the morning. Catch you guys later."

"Until then." her brother responded, and they shared a quick embrace before she left. Despite their differences, they seem to get along just fine. And they're both pretty nice. I could have done worse.

An hour later, I was sound asleep. I hadn't radically changed the timeline in one day, but neither had I gotten shot or thrown into prison. I was laying in a comfy bed with a reasonably full stomach, and was in no immediate physical danger. All in all, not a bad first day. Maybe I could keep my head down and continue this trend for the time being.

Hah. What a load of shit.

A/N: Hehe...so, one year late? I really hadn't had any inspiration throughout the last school year, which was honestly pretty shit. Hopefully I can ride this train for longer this time, but no promises.

Hats off to The Blocked Writer for being alive and around to proofread my shit.