"You look like you're waiting for someone."
Ryder paid the newcomer little mind, only sparing a peek for the man who'd interrupted her thoughts. He was an exile, didn't stand out much from the rest of them at first glance. Balmy black hair and ridged leathery armor snagged her attention.
The strange man glanced to the bartender, head tilting so subtly that Ryder wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been watching him. The asari snatched two glasses from the counter, slamming them onto the bar, pouring the liquid into each without a scant of deliberation. Ryder wasn't sure how the bartender didn't spill them all over the counter.
He collected the drinks, extending one to her, the ghost of a smirk on his face. The vile liquid overcame her senses even from inches away.
Need to lose this guy before the contact shows, Ryder thought. She had hoped to avoid any attention from the exiles, but blending into the background wasn't something Pathfinders were known for. The heavy stress of an entire civilization sat atop her shoulders, weighing on her like a mountain. She was almost tempted by the drink, but having her mind clouded when the contact showed would be unprofessional.
"Not interested," Ryder dismissed, maintaining her icy wall. Her eyes found the window and stared hard in contempt, hoping the stranger would get the hint. From the corner of her eye, she saw him throw back one drink and then the other, setting both glasses down with a resounding thud. Ryder was barely able to resist an amused snort.
"Shena," he introduced, forcing her attention back. He penetrated her barrier by reaching for the hand hanging at her side and shook it, grip unyielding.
"But you can call me Reyes. I hate codenames."
Although Ryder could match most human men in height, Reyes had a few inches over her still, his cool air of confidence standing the tallest of all.
"I was expecting someone more… Angaran," Ryder admitted, her flow faltered. He leaned against the counter top, looking her assuredly in the eye and gave a low laugh. He wore a full smirk now, one that complemented his features as if he was meant to wear such an expression.
"The Resistance pays me to supply information, among other things," he said, demeanor nothing short of inconspicuous. Ryder glanced around the bar in search of eavesdroppers, but they had attracted no attention.
Great, Ryder thought. She didn't often care for working with hired money. They were usually the sort who'd sell you out without a second thought, and only for a better paycheck, honor be damned.
"So you're a smuggler," she pointed out.
Reyes smirked, leaving the statement unanswered. He straightened, sidling over to the window. Ryder found her feet following him, curious. A few sheets of glass was all that separated them from the harsh slopes of the Kadaran highlands. The purplish streaks of clouded skies lit the valley a strange, ethereal hue.
"Your man, Vehn Terev- word spread about what he did to Moshae Sjefa. Sloane has him in custody, and the people are calling for his execution. And Sloane... she's a woman of the people," he said with a sarcastic wave of his hand.
Ryder scoffed, still somewhat transfixed by the landscape. "Dress it up however you'd like. Sloane Kelly is a criminal."
Reyes paused, contemplating her words. His expression was unreadable to her, his thoughts guarded. Ryder leaned in closer to hear his words.
"You're Initiative," he hummed. "Sloane was part of the uprising on the Nexus. That places a fundamental barrier between you. I doubt she'll give up on Vehn without a fight."
"I'm taking him," Ryder vowed. "With or without Sloane's permission."
Reyes chuckled, a glint of amusement lighting his eyes of molten honey. "We're gonna be friends, you and I," he said, warmth spreading to his words.
He leaned closer still. Their shoulders grazed, his forearm brushing her elbow as he continued. She caught the faint scent of warm whiskey on his breath. Ryder thought to make some witty remark, but couldn't.
"There might be another way to get to Vehn," he mused, an idea forming in his head. "You work Sloane, I'll talk to the Resistance." Reyes pushed himself up off the rest, sauntering out of the bar as unexpectedly as he had arrived.
"Wait!" Ryder called after him, stopping Reyes in his tracks. "How am I supposed call you if things go south?"
He turned halfway to meet her eyes. Reyes winked and turned again, a kind of fiery energy in his step. Just like that, he'd left their rendezvous. Ryder wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do, nor what she was supposed to tell Sloane, if the rumors about her held true.
Ryder stood frozen by the window, more confused than before. How was she supposed to convince Sloane, the woman who'd seized control of Kadara Port, to give up her golden prisoner? And what was the deal with this Reyes, anyway?
She attempted to follow him out of the bar, but stopped cold at the bartender shouting after her.
"Hey!" the asari bartender snapped at Ryder. "You gotta pay!"
The two empty cups where Reyes had been still sat on the bar top. That sneaky bastard left me with his bill!
Ryder transferred the credits without a word, wanting to avoid an altercation. "Keep the change," she muttered before hastening outside.
It had dimmed some outside, but that didn't detract from the Port's lively atmosphere. The markets off to her right had filled with traders and barterers. It didn't take long for Ryder to locate the Outcast Headquarters further past the market. Guards stood just outside the large iron doors, sneering and waving guns at passersby.
When Ryder approached, they didn't spare her the sharp glares as she entered the Headquarters. Just beyond the door was a main passage, with some smaller storage rooms surrounding. Before the passage was the inner door, guarded by two hefty-looking krogan soldiers. They stomped in front of the inner door, blocking Ryder from the room. Sloane had quite a bit of security, but as an Initiative representative, Ryder's presence could be perceived as threatening.
"I'm here to see Sloane," Ryder announced, earning a low grumble from one of the krogan. The two guards ushered her past the door, keeping a gun jammed into her back. One of them gave Ryder a hard shove, so she would be stumbling over when she came face-to-face with Sloane.
Sloane Kelly sat upon her makeshift throne, swiping deftly across an electronic blue screen. Her throne was elevated in such a way, that Ryder had to tilt her head up to see Sloane. She slouched, the window-light from Govorkam lighting the woman's disfigured features. Sloane may have once been beautiful, though it would have been a hard kind of beauty. Even so, Sloane wore the battle scars and burns across her aged face with an air of pride.
"What?" Sloane demanded. Ryder could tell the Outcast leader wasn't one for many words.
"You must be Sloane Kelly. I'm-"
"I know who you are," Kelly interrupted, her unnatural blue eye hard and piercing and full of malice. They stared at one another for what felt like minutes.
"So, what brings a Pathfinder to our humble port?" Kelly asked. She propped her leg up on her chair and lolled her head to the side, unafraid to be brazen. Both women came from a military background, where body language spoke a great deal. They each knew very well that neither woman had an ounce of respect for the other. With few words, a challenge had sparked the air.
"Vehn Terev. Name ring any bells?" Ryder asked, her eyes narrowed and arms crossed. Sloane sneered, leaning closer.
"What's he to you? Don't lie to me."
"I need him so I can infiltrate a kett flagship," Ryder explained, pride highlighting her own irritation. "You've obviously got no love for the kett- I'm doing you a favor."
It was a dangerous card to play, Ryder knew. Sloane Kelly's jaw tightened in frustration at the insinuation that she was incapable.
"Kadara is an Angaran port. They want Vehn dead, and I want to keep them happy," Sloane protested.
"This is bigger than local politics," Ryder argued back, stepping forward in defiance.
"You don't need Vehn. You need his intel. Talk to him, before I put his head on a spike," Sloane Kelly offered dismissively, as if tossing Ryder her half-eaten scraps. Ryder bristled, her breaths becoming shallow. If Cora was there, she'd have reminded her Pathfinder to keep a clear head and stay calm. Unfortunately, she didn't have her second-in-command there to calm her.
"You are arrogant to presume you have the right to judge Vehn Terev. That duty belongs to the Resistance- not you."
Sloane's look of contempt had evolved into a hateful, barbed glare. Ryder's taunting had struck a nerve, and she knew it had been a mistake.
The Outcast leader tensed as if to stand, shout- but she remained deathly still. Ryder held in a breath, refusing to break.
"Get out," Sloane hissed through clenched jaw.
Ryder curtsied, taunting glare never breaking from Sloane's scowl. She turned on one heel and stalked out without a word.
Leaving the Headquarters, Ryder cursed herself. Her annoyance was long past bubbling; it had broken free from its dam and spilled, burning hot into anger. She had behaved nothing like how a Pathfinder should, and she was excruciatingly aware.
"That could have gone better," Ryder mumbled.
"Perhaps Mr. Vidal had more luck," Sam provided.
Ryder suspected that Reyes indeed had more luck than she. He was a silver tongue if she'd ever met one. Ryder dreaded facing him again; she may have blown her opportunity to retrieve Vehn Terev, and all because of a quick temper. It had been undiplomatic behavior; Alec wouldn't have accepted her failure. What would Reyes think?
"Pathfinder! Over here," a familiar voice called.
Speak of the Devil...
Sure enough, there stood Reyes coolly against one of the market stands, arms crossed. He'd blended so well into plain sight, Ryder wouldn't have noticed had he not called out to her. She wondered how long he'd stood there, watching her fume outside of the Outcast Headquarters.
Ryder approached, embarrassed.
"Have a nice chat?" Reyes asked.
Ryder tried to force down some of the tension that still tingled in her shoulders. "I think Sloane likes me," she joked. Sloane obviously did not like her.
Reyes chuckled, which wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting.
"Don't worry," Reyes told her. "I may have found a workaround."
"A workaround? You mean to go around Sloane?" she asked, confused.
Reyes grinned, Ryder got the feeling she was missing some kind of joke.
"I'm betting Sloane didn't offer much to work with," Reyes guessed.
"She said I could talk to Vehn Terev before she executed him, but that's all. I doubt Evfra would be happy with that," Ryder said, avoiding the subject of her conversation with Sloane. Reyes raised a brow.
"That doesn't surprise me. Sloane doesn't have a good track record for seeing reason."
"Well, why have me talk to Sloane in the first place if you were trying to work around her?" she asked, annoyance seeping back. Ryder wasn't sure how she'd ended up working with an exile, and she wasn't fond of the idea that Reyes might be toying with her. Could he be trusted?
Reyes seemed unfazed by her question. He placed an arm on Ryder's shoulder, guiding her along an alleyway at a slow pace. She moved instinctively for her gun, only to find empty space. Weapons weren't allowed in Kadara Port- with the exception of the guards, of course.
"Call it a distraction," he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling. "The guards were distracted by your presence in the Headquarters. Gave me enough time to grab this."
Reyes reached for her gloved hand and placed something there, closing her fingers back. It was metallic, oddly shaped.
A device.
"This," he began, "Will eat through whatever Sloane is using to lock him up, and it can't be traced back to us. A Resistance Agent will be waiting to pick Vehn up."
"This seems kind of risky," Ryder said, unsure. "What if Vehn tries to make a run for it?"
"That is covered," Reyes said simply. "You focus on what you need from Vehn." He seemed confident enough though, so Ryder decided to take his word for it. They came to a stop next to a partially concealed opening at the end of the alley.
"What's this?" she asked.
"A maintenance shaft. I'm sending the access code to your omni-tool. That'll get you inside. You should be able to handle the rest."
Ryder quirked a brow. "There's still the matter of the bill you left me with."
He chuckled, stepping away. "I'm usually the model gentlemen," he said.
"I don't believe you," she retorted.
"That's because I'm lying."
She found his eyes, pale brown. Neither moved for what could have been a millisecond or several minutes- it was hard to tell.
"When you're done, come find me at Tartarus. First round's on me. I promise."
He turned the corner and just like that, Reyes was gone again. Ryder stared into the maintenance tunnel, as if taking in her surroundings for the first time.
There was something about Reyes' parting statement that made her uncomfortable, but she couldn't place the feeling.
Ryder slipped inside the tunnel, careful to avoid attracting attention. The passage led up through a ceiling, into a small room. She peered around the corner. At first glance it was only a storage room, but a small cell was tucked into the corner. It was a compact prison, isolating without much space to move around. Vehn was locked behind thr bars on a stony bench, sullen.
"Where is the Archon's ship?" Ryder demanded as she approached the cell, skipping a greeting. There was no point in dragging this out longer than it had to be.
"Hmm… this a new interrogation tactic? Sloane's getting lazy," the Angaran commented, with a cold glare. The Angara were so expressive, it was if they exuded their emotions. She had witnessed some of Jaal's glares, but this Angaran's was particularly icy.
"If you help me, I can get you back to the Resistance," Ryder said.
Vehn's expressed weakened, and she could see he was already beginning to crack. The Angara had a tough exterior, but it was plain how much he was suffering in this prison. He appeared sickly, weak.
"I'm sorry, but I can't help you," Vehn Terev admitted. "I received my orders from a transponder, and I was told to dispose of it. I buried it outside the city, in the badlands."
"Do you remember where you buried the transponder?" she asked.
"Yes, I have the coordinates. If you find the transponder, you could use it's frequency to triangulate the signal."
"Send me the coordinates. This is your way out of here," Ryder said, slipping her hand through the bars to hand him Reyes' device. She turned the way she came as soon as Vehn took the device from her hands. "A resistance contact will be waiting," she barked, eager to leave the area before she was discovered.
"Don't you want to know why I did it? Why I betrayed the Moshae?"
Ryder stopped, her legs willing her forward, but her heart curious. She thought of all the possible reasons why Vehn would have betrayed his own people the way he did. A good Pathfinder would listen every side of the story, taking everything into consideration.
She remembered the kett facility. She remembered watching as the helpless Angara turned into a monster, a heart of innocence morphed into a black pit of hatred and murder. Ryder's lip curled in disgust.
"I don't care," she spat, leaving the cell through the maintenance shaft.
Ryder paced back through the market. She spared a glance where Reyes had met her earlier outside the Outcast HQ, half expecting him to be there, but the spot was vacated. A shady looking vendor stood near instead, trying to catch her attention to lure in some credits.
She was supposed to meet back up with Vetra and Drack in the market, but a jittering throng of exiles blocked her path to the bar. Guards, traders and other exiles alike were all crowded about something atop the city grates. Ryder peered around the crowd, trying to see the center of attention.
A metallic, putrid smell filled her senses all at once. The crowd parted some, and she caught a glimpse of a bloodied Angaran corpse on the ground, face-up in a pool of royal blue blood. Glazed, dead eyes stared through her, void of feeling.
It made a bit more sense why Jaal had requested to stay on the Tempest while Ryder conducted her business on Kadara.
The guards stood around the body, trying to quiet the commotion and observe the scene for any signs of the murderer. Whispers traveled throughout the crowd of stewed exiles.
"The Charlatan's at it again," someone grumbled quietly, just audible enough for Ryder to hear.
"This has been… the seventh murder, now," one of the guards said.
She had heard the Charlatan's title murmured a few times in the streets since her arrival to the Port. A mysterious figure, leader of the Collective, rival to Sloane. None knew his true identity, and none knew where to find him.
It all seemed very dramatic.
She found Vetra and Drack lingering near Kralla's Song, chatting quietly with each other. The slain corpse in the middle of the port had created some uneasiness; it was good to see them again.
"Hey guys," Ryder greeted as she approached. "How'd your uh, business deal go?"
"Our totally legitimate business deal went off without a hitch," Vetra boasted.
Drack grunted. "Benefit of bringing a krogan along."
"Also, I picked up some popcorn and graxen, for Liam's movie night!" Vetra said, proudly displaying her goodies.
"That's great!" said Ryder, although she wasn't entirely sure what graxen was.
The group made their way back to board the Tempest, and Vetra showed everyone her movie night snacks. Suvi, who was fond of reminders of their old home, was particularly excited.
"So, how'd it go in Kadara Port?" Liam asked. "Is the violence as bad as they say over there?"
"Worse, probably," she said with a grimace.
"Oh, and Ryder," Suvi began. "Director Tann wanted you to give him a call as soon as you arrived back on board."
Ryder's already poor mood soured at the mention of Tann. It wasn't a secret among the crew that the Pathfinder didn't get along well with the Nexus Director.
"Right," Ryder mumbled, rubbing her temple. "I should probably go speak with Tann, then. I'd like everyone in the meeting room in half an hour. Cora, Liam, come with me."
"We're grateful you've located ark Leusinia and ark Natanus- truly. We have two outposts established already, but it's not enough, Pathfinder," Tann's voice rang out in the meeting room. Cora and Liam stood on Ryder's either side, listening to the Director's lecturing.
"I understand, Director," Ryder began. "The kett have been a dangerous presence since we arrived here. I'm planning a mission against them that will-"
"I appreciate your initiative, but these outposts need to be your team's first priority. Addison has been pestering me for days about the limited space on our outposts. We need to keep the cryosleep wake-ups on schedule. This is your job, Ryder. Remember that."
With that, Tann's vidcom image disappeared with a flash and Ryder was left with an angry scowl on her face.
"What a prick..." muttered Ryder, earning a chortle from Liam. He cut off his laugh at the sight of the Pathfinder's grim expression, shifting uncomfortably. Cora's face was unreadable as she stood firm at attention.
"How am I supposed to maintain outposts across the Cluster, with an armada of aliens that want to destroy them all?" she asked her squadmates, clenching her fist against the iron rail.
"With respect, Pathfinder. Our mission is to establish these Outposts and protect them. Why not send a military team to the Archon?" asked Cora, her tone professional.
Ryder shook her head. "The Nexus isn't going to send a single ship to the Archon. It's too risky. We're the only ones in the Initiative who can actually do something," she argued. Liam nodded in agreement.
"We can't just go against the Director's orders," Cora pointed out. Ryder sighed.
"No," she agreed. "We can't. But we can do missions on the side... you guys up for some overtime?" Ryder asked, a hint of levity coloring her voice.
"Hell yeah," Liam exclaimed. "It's been nothing but overtime since we arrived in Andromeda, anyways. We might as well go after the Archon and save the galaxy too, right?"
Ryder smiled, pleased with his enthusiasm. She looked to her second-in-command. "Well, Cora?"
Cora was silent for a moment, her eyes adamant yet filling with determination.
"Such is the life of a Huntress," Cora said. "Let's do it." Ryder clapped them both on the back, grinning.
"So, you think this kett transponder will lead us to the Archon, then?" Jaal asked, seeming unsure. It was clear that he'd been hoping for a better lead to the Archon.
"If we get our hands on that transponder, maybe we can trace the signal somehow," Cora mused aloud.
"Exactly," Ryder agreed with her second. "Vehn says he buried the transponder in the badlands. He may be a slimy traitor, but I don't think he was lying to us. Gil, I'm going to need you to get the Nomad prepped for Kadara."
Gil nodded. "Right-o, boss."
Liam piped in. "Once Gil's got it prepped, I can have it parked out in the slums, ready to go for you, Pathfinder."
Ryder nodded in acknowledgement.
"So, who was this Resistance contact?" Peebee chimed in. "Also, I overheard in the Port that Sloane Kelly was going to hold an execution for Vehn Terev. How did you get him out?"
Pursing her lips, Ryder considered how to answer Peebee's question.
"Right- Shena, my contact, he's a human smuggler. His real name is Reyes Vidal. He gave me some sort of device that allowed Vehn to-"
"Wait, back up," Vetra interrupted. "Your contact is Reyes?"
Ryder hesitated. "You know him, Vetra?"
The turian shrugged. "I may have done business with him a few times. Reyes is one of the most reliable smugglers out here in Heleus. I'm surprised he's working for the Resistance."
"I don't know if it's 'working for' so much as supplying information for credits," Ryder replied. "Still, his intel was valuable and we could be seeing more of him. There's been a string of murders in Kadara Port, and SAM thought Reyes would have some leads to find the killer."
"You mean that Angaran that was killed?" asked Drack, breaking his silence. She noticed Jaal's wince from the corner of her eye.
"Why bother with Kadara Port?" Peebee asked. "I thought we were focusing on this Archon guy. The exiles betrayed the Nexus, why would we be helping them?"
Ryder tapped her screen, generating a hologram of Kadara above the meeting table. The blue image bathed the group's faces in pale light.
"True, but it's going to take some time to get what we need from the transponder. Besides, both Tann and Addison are up my ass right now about these outposts. It may be a planet of exiles, but it's still a planet viable enough to live on. If I can resolve some of this tension between the Outcasts and the Collective, all the better. The last thing the Initiative needs is another failed outpost."
A hum of agreement traveled about the room. Their primary goal was to find their people a home. The Archon was standing in the way of that, but he wasn't the only obstacle in Heleus. Such was the burden of exploration, and pathfinding.
"So, where's this 'Reyes' guy now?" Liam asked.
"He asked me to find him at Tartarus," Ryder told the group. She left out the part about the round of drinks he'd promised.
"Isn't Tartarus that trashy night club out in the slums of Kadara?" Drack asked.
"I wouldn't know," admitted Ryder. She had a lot demanding her attention these days.
"Guess that's one way to lie low," Vetra mumbled.
"Alright. So our next move is to go see Reyes for some insights into the murders on Kadara, and then find the kett transponder," Ryder declared. She drew out the plans for Kadara in her mind as she stared over the planet's hologram.
After spending another hour or so on the Tempest, gathering their energy for Kadara, Ryder returned to the Port, this time fully armed. Vetra and Drack joined her again to the surface, as Jaal was completely opposed to setting foot on the planet, Cora and Peebee were deep in their research projects, and Liam was off working on something with Gil.
The trio made their way to the Kadara slums, accessed by a lift that descended down below the Port. It was fascinating, in a way- a city underneath a city. If Kadara Port had seemed bad, the slums were awful. There seemed to be a strung out junkie in every dark alley and the whole place carried a putrid odor. Waftings of shit mingled with the rotted scent of the sulfur springs nearby, settling a nauseous feeling in her stomach. Ryder could hear agonized wailing in one direction, and loud pulsing dance music in another.
"There will always be places like this," Drack growled as they turned through the alleyways. "Doesn't matter what galaxy you're in."
Ryder was inclined to agree with him.
As soon as they stepped inside Tartarus, Ryder was eager to leave. The nightclub was illuminated by flashing red lights dulled by a hazy clouded atmosphere. The pounding music thumped in her ears, dancers moving vigorously in cages all around the club. It was crowded, more bodies bumping about than the bar in the Port.
"Doesn't have Kralla's view, but I like it," said Vetra. Ryder grimaced.
Her eyes sought out Reyes, but she didn't see her new contact anywhere in the club. She checked the bar twice, just to be sure he wasn't lingering there, but the space was empty. She weaved through the crowd, heading for the bartender while Vetra and Drack staid back, keeping an eye on their Pathfinder from afar.
It wasn't your average Andromeda bar in the slightest- the bartender and his staff were barred from the rest of the club… literally. Hefty metal bars stretched all the way around the bar keeping the customers away, and Ryder had a feeling it wasn't for decoration.
"What's your poison?" asked the man behind the bar, eyeing her oddly. The flashing red lights danced across his face, concealed mostly in shadow.
"I'm not picky," she replied.
"First round's on me," the bartender said, pouring something out into a metal canister. "A Pathfinder is certainly more reputable than my usual clientele."
It was strange being recognized nearly everywhere she went, something she'd have to get used to. Back on Earth, her father was well known and so was she to a degree, but not like in Andromeda.
Ryder breathed in as she brought the cup under her nose- tequila, she guessed by the aroma, and tossed it back expertly. It burned going down, leaving behind a pleasant warmth in the curve of her chest.
"Our mutual contact is waiting for you. In that room, there," said the bartender, gesturing with his eyes behind Ryder. She turned her head, following his glance. A closed door off to the side of the nightclub caught her eye, hidden in plain sight. Her chest fluttered a bit when she saw the door, and she craved another drink.
"Right. Thanks," she mumbled back, attempting to find the best path to the door through the crowded nightclub.
After tripping on a handful of drunk clubbers, Ryder stopped in front of the door, preparing to request access from her omni-tool. She took a deep apprehensive breath, wondering the source of the anxiety that had pitted in her core. Before she could request access, the door opened for her, and she took a step back in surprise.
