Atrium
Urgency gnawed at my mind, the same creeping foreboding that whispered doom when I looked upon the door, also whispered exactly what would happen if I remained paralyzed by indecision. My shoulder ached something fierce, the stab of pain forcing me from entering a mental fugue. The Acklay was out there, I appeared to have outran it for now, but I would be a fool if I thought it wouldn't be on me as soon as it could.
I glanced at my fingers, at the pink-purple blood on them. And that wasn't even taking into account other things that could smell blood, that might come crawling if I stayed put for too long. My eyes darted around the clearing again, searching for a stick, maybe, or a rock, or anything I could use as a weapon, but there was nothing. The sticks were almost literally foam, and there were no rocks, just a pale whitish-green moss with the texture of slick seaweed. Maybe there were rocks underneath it, I supposed, but there was no way to check short of starting at a corner of the clearing and peeling back the moss, which was an insane idea for what amounted to an uncertain reward.
What even would a rock do against an Acklay? That thing's claws were probably bigger around than my torso. I shuddered, again, lurching away from the tree and toward the door. I'd already spared enough time to frightened indecision.
I could feel that my life was at a precipice. This wasn't a video game where I got to redo bad decisions. Where I could reload save files when I made a mistake. This was fully and tangibly real. I lurched forward, crossing the clearing with an unsteady gait. The moss was soft under my feet, kind of like sheet moss, but the texture wasn't quite the same, it felt damp without leaving moisture on my feet.
The monolith itself extended upward like it was a sword that had been thrust into the ground, a silvery metal, blackened by tarnish, parts of it, lines really, appearing to be almost slate-grey, radiating outward in thin lines from the door and curving around the structure. The door itself was heavy, looking more like a blast door than anything else. It looked like it was solid steel through and through. I stepped up close, raising a hand to touch against the door. It was cold to my touch, none of the heat of the sun having seeped into the structure's surface. I pressed up against it, raising up on my tip-toes to peer into the tiny triangular window. That did something weird with the muscles in my legs, it wasn't uncomfortable per se, it was just unusual, instead of feeling it in my ankles, some muscle up near my knee shifted. I resolutely ignored the sensation, instead, focusing on the door.
Oof, I mentally said in the silence of my mind a second later. I inhaled, thinking for a long moment, before letting all the air out in a strained exhale. The glass itself looked thick too, and I highly doubted that even if I broke it, even if I managed to find something strong enough that a door handle or lock would be conveniently within my arm's reach on the other side. I shifted a little, looking at the window from the side, I would probably estimate the door was about three, maybe four inches think, one in a half to two inches on each side of the glass. It was hard to tell for sure, the distortion from the glass was too strong. It didn't have hinges on the outside, and the seam between the door and wall was thin, so thin that I could only just slide my fingernails into the space between the enormous overcompensating door and the left doorjamb. Obviously, there was no way I would be able to pry the door open, even if I had a crowbar or pickaxe, or anything really.
Perfect for keeping out roaming murderously minded Acklays. Also perfect for keeping out hobo Asari that murderous Acklays had a keen desire to eat. I stepped back, my gaze carefully scrutinizing the door again, before I spared a glance back at the rest of the little glade. Still all quiet, but the sun was noticeably shifted from its position directly overhead. Now it was a little to the position I decided to dub west, for lack of a better position.
Not good news in the slightest, I had absolutely zero desire to stick around out in the open after night fell, and whatever was in this monolith was certainly a better choice than whatever was out here. But, that, of course, left actually getting inside.
I eyed the roots tangled around the door. It was odd to me, I slowly considered, that there would be no handle or button or even an intercom thing on this side of the door. This door, while clearly old and decrepit, was obviously built with some knowledge of modern metallurgy and glassworks, as evidenced by the thick glass window. Ergo, it also followed that maybe there was some external mechanism I could use to open the door. If I was an astronaut or frontierswoman on some alien as heck planet I would definitely want to be able to open the door if I accidentally locked myself out.
I could remove the roots? I mentally flipped a coin, which was stupid because there was really no randomness in my choice, I probably just thought left looked better subconsciously. I had to take several steps to even reach the edge of the door, where the roots started to encroach. Here, some of the moss crawled up the side of the wall, almost at the level of my shoulders and in a few places up to my head, there was none on the door but on the side it was pretty rooted. They were almost unbearably flesh-textured in my hands, and I braced myself with one foot against the wall and pulled. The entire side of the roots stretched like taffy, leaving yellow slime mold-like residue on the side of the metal, but it did peel away nicely, not tearing like I half expected.
Jackpot! There was an instrument panel of some kind. It was a dull gunmetal gray, absolutely covered by moss, but there was a little red and green light flashing dully beneath all the moss and roots. I grabbed the moss with my hands and pulled, the pieces immediately in my fingers broke off, leaving most of the sheet moss behind, like I was trying to uproot blades of grass.
I leaned forward, really digging my nails into the moss until I hit metal, and then pulled. It didn't pull nicely, instead, it just shredded in my hands, covering them in a pale blue chlorophyll. Honestly, it was pretty gross, but it was just a plant, and little by little I revealed what looked like a microphone aperture with two pale grey buttons next to it. Below that there was a cluster of square-shaped buttons, made of metal and a round reddish-looking circle.
I made to wipe my hands on my thighs, and stopped for a moment in silent contemplation before kneeling down and wiping my hands free of the chlorophyll on the moss bed beneath my feet. Not that it made too much of a difference, because the buttons were pretty nasty looking themselves. I stepped forward, peering at the controls carefully before with a mental shrug I decided to just go for it.
I hit the first button near the intercom, pressing it down. It depressed with a click and I leaned close.
"Hello?" I said, hesitating for a moment at the alien sound of my own voice.
"Hello?" I repeated, "Um, is anyone there? Hello?"
I paused. My fingers on the button before I considered whether maybe it was only one-way or something and I'd need to release the transmit button. Nothing but silence. I breathed in, steeling my nerves again, and thumbed the other button, repeating my message.
"Hello, hello, anyone there?" Still nothing. Silent as a tomb. I grimaced at that cheery thought and spared a quick glance up at the monolith. It could be some kind of science fiction Mass Effect tomb, I supposed… or a tomb in Star Wars, given that Acklay.
I leaned away from the instrument panel and considered it carefully again. Would I have to hit the lower buttons in sequence or something? How many combinations would I have to try? An errant thought zipped through my mind and I snorted.
It wouldn't be that simple, would it? Maybe I should just press the red button? I eyed it suspiciously, sparing a quick glance back toward the clearing. At this point I half expected that it would manage to sneak up on me, I couldn't really rely on being able to hear it coming. What I was worried about was that the giant red conspicuous button was just an alarm, and what I did not want was hitting an alarm in a forest with giant woman-eating bugs from Star Wars. Here, come eat me! Yeah, dinner bells for the monsters.
I hit the button with two fingers, and it clicked down, turning from a dull red to a bright red. I heard a hydraulic thump and then a loud noise blared right next to my ear and I half-stumbled backward, my heart jumped in my chest like I'd just been hit with an electric shock. Or maybe a cattle prod, at least the way my heart took it.
The noise was gibberish, but it was a voice, saying something that sounded like it maybe could be words. Did that mean someone was here, or was that just an automated message? The door made a deep clunking sound, enough that I could feel it under my feet, through the moss, before slowly sliding upward. I just stood there and watched until it slowly progressed its ascent. I spared a glance around me for any lurking Acklays and then quickly stooped under the door the moment it was high enough that I could slip underneath it. For an instant it was dark, and the sudden shift from bright sun to pure shadow made it difficult to see for a long instant. I blinked slowly, once, twice, and by the second blink, I could sort of make out rougher details. It was a gray room, completely empty except for a metal grate on the floor, which was absolutely freezing to my bare feet, like ice water cold. I shifted on my feet, trying to minimize my time on the grate, to stand on the parts in between the grates, which were marginally less cold There was no moss or roots inside, which was probably a good sign.
There was another instrument panel inside, well actually, there were two. One near the door I just entered, and another near a second giant overcompensating blast door. I glanced backward, squinting against the sun before I stepped to the side and slammed the red button next to the door I just entered with my first. The same gibberish almost startled me again-
The door groaned and then with another pneumatic hiss dramatically started to lower. I blinked again as total darkness began to descend on the room. Evidentially whoever made this didn't believe in lights.
I focused. I could just make out the other instrument panel in the gloom. It had another tiny blinking red and green light next to its intercom thing. Should I wait, I thought, there had been a voice, and I had no idea what it said. On the other hand, the door seemed to be opened and closed by the red button, so if there was someone inside, I hopefully hadn't offended them too much with either my alien gibberish or attire, or current lack of attire. Hell of a first impression.
I slowly made my way across the room, shivering slightly from the cold. It was the same instrument panel as before, and with the briefest moment of hesitation, I extended a finger again and gently depressed the button, watching it carefully as it shifted to bright red.
Same song and dance. The door groaned and then started upward slowly. I didn't duck underneath this one the moment I could. That same lingering sense of foreboding made my heart jitter in my chest. I could feel the coiled tension in my arms, and the ache of my scrape in my shoulder. And my feet were cold, but that didn't really count.
The interior was dim, much the same as the little airlock I was just in, but the floor wasn't grating so I stepped forward, my eyes taking in as much as I could. There was a little anteroom, and then stone steps leading downward. Soft brown lines were painted on the side of the walls. I stepped forward. There was an instrument panel to my left but it almost certainly controlled just the door, at least if I was considering the obvious symmetry with the other door's controls.
The moment my foot hit the first step on my descent, soft but incredibly dim white lights flickered near the floor, lighting my path down. The steps themselves looked worn and aged, the kind of steps you see where hundreds of thousands of people walk down them every year, eroded enough in the middle that their texture was smooth.
Well, I placed one hand on the wall and slowly descended, my bare feet echoing slightly in the silence. The lights did not hum like I half expected, instead, the entire place was as silent as a tomb. The wall was about as cool as the grates, but the vaguely tribal brown paint made it seem warmer, less foreboding.
Almost abruptly the stairs terminated, and I was met with a flash of warm damp air and then I was stepping back onto what felt like concrete but slightly damp beneath my feet. I could hear rushing water and in a moment I realized just how parched I was. I stepped forward a little more eagerly, even as the whisper of danger continued to slowly twist in the back of my mind.
I stepped forward, around the corner at the base of the stairs and stopped, a short shocked little gasp of wonder leaving my throat unwittingly.
It was a miniature oasis, broad pillars with the width of grand sequoias stretching toward the ceiling, a ceiling that had to be level with the ground outside. But the sheer green was a shock. Green ferns. Green vines. Green moss. Green bushes. Green, but sterile. Little white flowers on the bushes but no insects. No bird song. Just a still silence and the steady rush of water from somewhere.
I slowly stepped into the room, plants grew in between the pillars in massive stone planters, which were probably about as deep as I was tall, and the vines and plants had grown upward, tangling in the pillars around me. Above me was a pale white light that seemed to suffuse the entire ceiling, but it was not the sky. There was a fountain in the middle of the room, positively overgrown with moss, which leached out from it and across the floor. But the fountain itself was running and the sound of water was like a siren song.
It was for that reason I hesitated, despite my desire. This place was odd. First, waking up in some kind of demon forest, and now an oasis arboretum? Still, I couldn't see anything immediately. I crept forward, my head on a swivel. There were other rooms off to the side, dark passageways lit by the same dim floor-level lights.
The water in the fountain was clear, but still vaguely darker than it should be. At this point I didn't really care that much beyond the fact that it was water. I cupped my hand in the water, the residue from the chlorophyll washing away, pulled down by some sort of current. I restrained the urge to just dunk my head in like some sort of barbarian no matter how attractive an idea it seemed and slowly brought my lips to my cupped hand.
Water.
Divine.
I gorged myself on the water like a glutton, feeling the cold seep down my throat and into my stomach. I let out a sigh a moment later and sat back, leaning against the edge of the fountain's pool. I felt a little like a child who had stumbled into some fae's palace, except for the fact everything was sci-fi.
Something behind me echoed, metal on stone, and I lurched to my feet, half spinning, my gaze spinning wildly. My heart lurched in my chest, and the cold in my stomach from the water dissipated instantly.
Where?
What?
There was a figure that had just emerged from one of the darkened hallways, moving with an odd gait and it sent real shivers down my spine. It moved wrong, slowly clomping across the room. Like a puppet on strings. To beady blue mechanical eyes stared at me and I could hear my heart stutter.
It was a dull tundora grey, unmistakably humanoid with claw-like hands, each with three fingers. It's limbs were long and thin, without the space for it to possibly be a suit of some kind, the same with its torso, which was split into two halves, and its head was split into four parts with a round circle in the middle, like a skull-plate.
It was a droid. Like a Star Wars kind of droid. A chill ran down my back, not from fear or horror, but from recognition. There was a dull red symbol on its chest. A bird rising into the air, and a sword, the hilt gleaming like a star in between its spread wings, all encased in a circle. I wasn't in Mass Effect? My thoughts seemed slow, to be moving a little too sluggishly as if my brain was struggling to process exactly what it was seeing.
The droid continued to advance, slowing as I noticed it. I remained rooted to my spot, my heart echoing in my head.
A noise came from the droid.
Gibberish without meaning.
I wasn't in Mass Effect was I? I though to myself with a sudden certainty. The droid. The Acklay. The horrible-looking planet. This whole facility. The door. the blast door, now that I was thinking about it. All of it just screamed one thing–
And the symbol only cemented it.
I was in Star Wars.
