Chapter Nine: Job
"Sometimes people don't want to hear the truth because they do not want their illusions destroyed."
Martin was jolted awake, not by anyone or any noise but by his body's internal clock. His eyes opened hesitantly, blurring before letting him look at the room he didn't immediately recognize. It took his mind a few moments to remember the night before, settling before focusing back on himself. His mind was still groggy and hazy; no real thoughts had surfaced. He stood up stiffly from the couch, stretching as he reached the peak of standing. He could feel the blood move into his tired limbs, which cracked and popped at the joints. He turned around and noticed Athria's computer was unattended but still powered on. He thought nothing of it; his mouth was too dry to pry into that mess right now.
Martin shuffled over to the kitchen area, grabbed a glass from the overhead cabinet, and filled his glass with water from the sink. He quickly filled his dry mouth and was ready to swallow before he choked and spat out the water. Coughing and dry heaving, he tried to get the strong metallic taste out of his mouth. Martin quickly pivoted, looking for something, anything, to change the sensation, and practically dived into the fridge.
Martin quickly grabbed the jug of brown liquid and, without any thought, took two huge gulps. He recoiled from the taste, not knowing what it was. It was slightly bitter, "almost tea," he thought. He returned it to the fridge whilst scrapping his tongue against the roof of his mouth, not knowing if he was trying to remove the metallic or the bitterness away. "Nothing in the future tastes right," he commented out loud.
After choking on the morning drinks, his mind was forced awake from the blood rush to his head. He didn't have an excuse now not to pry around the apartment. "Athria?" he shouted somewhat softly, looking in the general direction of the bedroom door. He was greeted with silence. Martin slowly made his way to Athria's computer on the table where she had left it. Keeping an eye on the bedroom door. The thought of getting caught peeping didn't fill him with any joy, and he would rather avoid another argument with the not-so-friendly Asari.
He reached the computer and quickly began scanning the data left on the holo screen, but unfortunately, he couldn't make out what the data was. It could have been Greek to him and wouldn't have made a difference. Martin shifted his sight down to the table and saw a handwritten note; the letters were in Asari script, but of course, he couldn't read them. But he did have his omni-tool, which he used to scan over the note.
"Carrd District
Turians
Unknown Faction
A5, B76, D31"
"Shit." Martin blurred out under his breath. He quickly gathered his weapons and noticed his Viper rifle was missing, but continued heading for the door. "Athria, wait until I get there." He shouted urgently over the comms. He ran out of the complex and sprinted to the skycar depot some two miles away.
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Martin took off in the skycar, his pulse raised, trying desperately to get Athria to respond. "This woman is gonna get herself killed." He sat in silence with nothing but the engine's hum and his beating heart as company. His thoughts turned to the argument from the previous night, goading her to do more fieldwork. If the pencil pusher ended up dead- No, he pushed the thought out of his mind. Martin didn't particularly care for her attitude or personality, but she was still his mild responsibility. He pushed the cars' controls more aggressively, hoping to speed things up, but this proved futile. He would have to wait patiently.
Forty-five minutes of tense anticipation passed before the car landed—well, almost. As the car began to settle, he forced the door open, dropped six feet down, and sped off into the district. Still, there was no word from Athria.
He moved through the narrow, crowded streets of the Carrd District, his senses on high alert. The district was a chaotic mess of vendors, street performers, and shady characters. Martin's eyes scanned the area, looking for any sign of Athria or the Turian mercs she mentioned.
"Athria, I'm here," he said into the comms, his voice urgent but controlled, but still nothing. He hurried down a few corridors and walkways, his omni-tool guiding his way. The crowds thinned as he grew closer to the waypoint until the path became deserted. Martin slowed around a corner, coming face to face with a squad of decked-out Turians. "This must be the place," he said to himself as several of the Turians approached him.
The lead Turian barked at him, "Get back, human! Now!" Martin stopped and began to catch his breath. "I'm ordering you to back away and back the way you came!" The wording caught his attention. "Ordering? Who the fuck are you people?" Martin questioned. "Doesn't fucking matter, Human, Now move!"
"Military," he thought to himself. It had to be. No one orders anyone around, and if these were Aria's people, they'd shoot before they ended their first sentence. Someone pushed through the other Turians gathered around and headed in their direction. "Sargent, what the hell is going on?" The Turian slightly turned his head, "An Intruder, Ma'am." The Lead Turian responded. "What are you waiting for then?" Her voice was familiar. It was pleasant, with an underlying vibration. But it was also different; her words were precise, clipped in the Turian manner, and had an occasional hissing quality that punctuated her sentences, giving her speech an exotic, almost otherworldly charm. A charm that triggered his mind.
"Velpia?" He yelled while looking away from the guns pointed at him. "Wa-Wait!" She pushed past the guards and forced their weapons down. She quickly turned around and dismissed the guards. "What the fuck are you doing here? Are you stalking me?" Velpia questioned. Martin's mind raced for an answer. He couldn't tell her exactly what was happening; she might be involved in whatever mess this mission was becoming. "Fuck it," he thought. "I'm looking for someone; they gave me these coordinates to meet them." The statement was more truth than lie but good enough, he hoped.
"If that's the case, someone was trying to get you killed," Velpia responded, buying into his explanation. "Lieutenant," another Turian at the back shouted. "The Colonel has ordered us to move back to his position." She turned back to the shouting Turian and nodded. "Give me a few minutes; I'll be right behind you." Velpia quickly turned around, returning her view to Martin, grabbing his arms below his shoulders. "Do you realize you almost died just then?" Her slightly panicked voice of concern seemed to stumble his mind. "I-don't-didn't realize what was going on." The Turians behind her finished gathering themselves and marched off around another corner. "I'm glad to see you alive, but you need to steer clear of us. It's not safe." Her obvious concern filled his body and mind with a warm feeling. "Yeah, didn't mean to walk in on-" He thought for a moment, trying to find the right words. "-Whatever this was."
Velpia sighed, raised her arm, and started messing with her omni-tool. "Here, meet me later today. We can catch up... and not become dead." Martin's ear began to buzz and crackle. "Martin, I need you to take a step to the side. I've lined up a shot." He quickly grabbed her arms and stepped quickly towards her, forcing her to hunch her back slightly. "Don't fucking move." He commanded. "What are you doing?" She protested, trying to fight her way out of his grip. Martin wanted to hold her in place, gently keeping her lower to keep her out of the direct line of fire, but before he could expel an explanation, she shoved Martin with her body, forcing him to stumble, and a shot rang out.
The shot ricocheted off the ground some eight feet behind her, and Martin fell onto the ground. He drew his weapon, and his mind went cold and slow. Velpia ducked and headed toward the back of the open area as Martin rolled onto his stomach, raising his pistol. A second shot echoed between the walls of the adjacent buildings; he saw the flash. He began to return fire into the opening where the flash was coming from. He wasn't trying to score a shot but to hold Athria down from shooting again. He expended all eight rounds in the opening and saw the silhouette of what he thought could have been Athria duck down to avoid his fire.
"Will you stop shooting?! I'm friendly!" Athria screamed angrily over the comms. "What is wrong with you?!" she continued. Martin Ignored her pleas and rolled over to see Velpia around the corner. Hopefully, she was safe. Given the choice, he knew who he would choose between the two.
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Arthia marched down to the lower level of the building and stormed towards Martin, who was now brushing the dirt and dust from his clothes and armor; turned away from her. She charged her fist with biotics and focused it at his back, sending him flying across the pavement. He rolled to a stop, stood up, drew his loaded pistol, and aimed it at her defiantly.
"What motherless creature did you spawn from?!" She yelled at him with a rage he had never seen before. The blue aura began spreading up her arm and soon around her body. "You dare fire at me?! You ungrateful, undermining, traitor!" Martin's face turned sour in a quiet rage as he pulled the trigger. The deafening sound was even more terrifying up close; it was a thunderclap, an assault on the senses that seemed to continue its assault as it bounced off the walls around them, leaving only a ringing sound in its wake. The shot missed by a mile, but she could hear and feel the pressure wave of the round as it sped past; A warning shot, one that she flinched from.
Martin's calm yet anger-filled demeanor, his steadiness behind that pistol, terrified the very back of her mind. That pistol, just the feeling of the missed shot, was probably enough to halt a krogan. If everything she read in his file were true, the man behind it would be even more so.
"Don't ever call me a traitor." The sentence was pushed through locked teeth. The two stared at each other from about a fifteen-foot distance in complete silence. Their combined egos were unwilling to back down from their positions.
"Freeze!" a Batarian voice yelled from behind Martin. "Don't move, or we will shoot!" another feminine voice cried out from an elevated stairway.
Athria kept her body glowing with her biotics, seeing the two behind him. Martin was still stubbornly focused on her. The Salarian moved down the walkway, pointing her rifle at them as the Batarian kept watch.
The Salarian crept slowly behind Martin and moved slightly to his side before lowering her weapon and reaching out to grab his pistol. Athria's mind panicked, but she refused to move. She waited to see what Martin would do if anything. His eyes were still completely locked onto her, his body unmoved by the others. She watched as the Salarian grabbed his weapon, and a smile began to develop on his face.
At that moment, he reacted by folding his arm, elbowing the Salarian in the face, and quickly ducking around her, disarming her in one quick motion.
Athria saw her change, and the Batarian changed his focus; she launched biotic attacks toward him before turning and running. This was Martin's problem-his punishment.
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Martin's barely contained rage fuelled his body as he lifted the tall amphibian from behind by its chest and slammed her face down into the ground, kicking her weapon off into the distance. Martin quickly shifted focus to the Batarian, who was trying to recover from the ground. He charged him, sliding to a stop and bearing his fists on the Batarian's face in a boxing stance.
Still dazed from the push, he couldn't muster much of a defense. A second later, the Salarian sprinted behind Martin, jumped onto his back and placed him in a chokehold. He felt the weight of her pulling on his neck as his airway became restricted. Martin stumbled backward, trying to pry the lock she had him in. After a few seconds of trying to shake off the Salarian, the Batarian regained some of his facilities and rushed, spearing Martin in the abdomen and forcing them all to the ground.
The Salarian's grip loosened, and he could slip his hand and the small part of his forearm between her grip.
The Batarian tried to establish a better position and raised himself; Martin quickly reacted, raising his knee to his chest and pushing the back down with his other. Slipping out of the headlock, Martin rolled off the Salarian and held her down as he stood, then kicking her in the side of the helmet. He readied himself as he heard the Batarian's footsteps rushing him again. He turned and ducked away from his punch, bringing his arm across the neck and chest, stepping his right foot behind his, and flipping him ass-over-head back into the ground.
Martin delivered a hard kick perfectly to the Batarian's chest. The hollow, meaty impact, followed by the violent expelling of air, put a smile on his face. The Batarian nearly left the ground when the lock was delivered; his reaction to flip over from the pain exposed his front. However, the Salarian rushed back into the fight with a knife held in a reverse grip.
Martin almost didn't see it coming and tilted his face away from the blade, but she kept coming, slicing the air with every dodged swing. She was fast, too fast. Even with his ability to slow his perception of time, keeping up with her movements was hard. He had never fought a Salarian and didn't realize how quick they could be.
Martin made his move after noticing a pattern in her movements, and he rushed between her steppes. He lunged forward and punched her helmet with such force that it cracked the helmet's glass, snapping her head back; stumbling backward, Martin reached forward, grabbing the odd handle incorporated into the Salarian's armor. He pulled her towards him, and using both hands, he lifted her over his head and slammed her into the ground.
The Salarian hit the ground with a thud. She remained there unmoved. The Batarian grabbed himself in pain, still on the ground. Martin gathered himself in silence, still absolutely angry at Athria's response, and gathered his other pistol; he had a problem to solve, and these two were just a speed bump.