Chapter Sixteen: Armaros

"Be your friend's true friend. Return gift for gift. Repay laughter with laughter again but betrayal with treachery."

Athria stepped onto the deck of their newly acquired ship, her eyes sweeping over the worn features of the Corvette. As Dez said, it was a retired Systems Alliance model, one they had pulled out of the mothball a short time ago. This kind of ship was unmistakably built for speed and maneuverability; it was angular but sleek in design, simple yet seemed robust at the same time. Though scarred from years of service, the hull still held a certain elegance in its lines- proof of the craftsmanship that had gone into its construction.

The Interior was compact, with every inch of space optimized for efficiency. One narrow corridor led to everything: the cockpit in the front, the captain's quarters just behind and to the side, a bunk room further down, engineering and the cargo area to the stern, and a bunk room could hold a crew of ten max. Each of these rooms was a testament to the ship's original purpose. There were no luxuries here, only what was necessary for the mission. The 'Bridge,' as the others would call it, though small, offered an impressive array of controls, with interfaces that looked outdated and had physical buttons and older-style screens.

As she moved through the ship, Athria couldn't help but almost appreciate its simplicity and human ingenuity, seeing how much they've changed in so little time. Comparatively, an Asari ship of the same age would barely look much different than a new model. There was something about all this simplicity, something reassuring about this ship that she liked. No frills, no unnecessary complications, just something designed to get the job done. Rustic in a way. She ran her fingers along the cool metal of the bulkheads, feeling a connection to the countless missions the ship probably had. She wondered what it may have seen.

Stepping into the engine room, Athria was greeted by the steady hum of the drive core. The Initiative's engineers had done their best to keep the ship in working order, but it was clear the ship had seen better days. Still, the core was powerful for a ship this size; hopefully, it was up to the task they would ask of it.

Athria returned to the cockpit and sat in the Captain's chair as Dez and Rinn finally joined her. They both took the two forward seats just in front of her and began looking over the controls. "How does everything look?" Athria asked, curious about the condition of the ship.

"Not as bad as I first thought, but it will need some work. Its last refurbishment was five years ago by the initiative, and that was the drive core, which they pulled out of a Midway Class Frigate. She was originally decommissioned thirteen years ago." Dez replied feverishly, looking over the controls.

"Do you think it will hold up?" Dez rotated herself in her chair to face Athria, "Look, this ship isn't meant for prolonged combat, especially against anything too much bigger than itself. There are also only a few weapon systems on board. We have two Guardian defense turrets, one Javelin torpedo bay, and a small Spinal Mass Cannon. But the ship is only fifty meters long. It won't do much against anything larger than a frigate."

Rinn also turned around, adding to the gloom, "If we don't do at least some upgrades, we won't get too far."

"Damnit," Athria let out a slow, deliberate breath. The weight of the situation was slowly pushing down on her as Dez's words chipped away at her original confidence. While the ship was functional, it wasn't ideal.

Dez scratched her head as everyone else stayed quiet. "Everything considered, we don't necessarily have a timeframe. We could hold off for a short while and see if we can squeeze more power out of the ship." She suggested. Athria leaned back in the captain's chair, her mind racing with possible solutions. Dez's suggestion made sense, but the thought of waiting around, vulnerable to whoever might be tracking them, was unsettling. She was about to respond when footsteps echoed down the corridor. She turned to see Martin entering the cockpit, his expression serious and nervous.

"Ath," Martin said, his voice low and urgent. "We need to talk. In private."

Athria frowned, sensing the tension in his voice. She nodded and stood up, motioning for Dez and Rinn to stay put. "I'll look at the drive core and see if there is anything I can do." Rin Said, Dez exchanged a curious glance but didn't protest.

Martin led the way, his pace brisk and purposeful. Athria followed. She noticed him rubbing his fingers together. Something was off; Martin rarely sought her out for private conversations, especially with such a tone. When they reached the captain's quarters, Martin shut the door behind them, his hand lingering on the control panel for a moment before he turned to face her.

"What's going on? This isn't like you." Athria asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the desk by the bed. She kept her tone neutral, but her mind was trying to fish for an answer so as not to be surprised.

Martin hesitated, his eyes flicking to the door as if making sure it was still closed. "I... brought someone on board," he began, his voice carefully measured. "Someone who might be able to help, but also for a different reason."

Athria's eyes tightened, suspicion flaring in her chest. "Who?" she demanded, her posture straightening as she pushed away from the desk.

"That Turian you shot at a week ago. Velpia."

The name stung her brain; it was the same woman from the alley. Athria's first instinct was to scream and yell. She couldn't trust her, not knowing what the Turians actually wanted with Rinn. She forced herself to take a deep breath. Maybe the Barbarian isn't as stupid as she thought. Or she hoped.

"You brought her here? Without consulting with me beforehand?" She asked, dangerously calm.

Martin nodded, his expression unreadable. "I know it's risky, but hear me out. She says she's not trying to hand this Colonel the artifact and wants to help us.". He took a deep breath. "But I don't completely buy it, but we can use her for her connections to get the stuff we need for the run, and then we can deal with what we need afterward."

Athria clenched her jaw, anger simmering just below the surface. "And you decided this on your own? Without consulting me or the others? What happens if this Colonel comes tracking us because of her?"

"That would happen regardless. I doubt he'd hurt us if we had one of his own on board sending updates. We would have, I guess, some protection up until we come back."

Martin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I didn't have time to argue, Athria. She found me, and I had to make a call. I'm telling you now because we need to figure out how to make this work. We can use this to our advantage."

Athria was silent for a long moment, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. Trust wasn't something she gave easily, and she barely trusted Martin to begin with. But Martin was right about one thing—they were in a precarious position, and any help they could get might make the difference between success and failure.

"Are you okay with using her like this? As a hostage?" she asked. Martin sighed, "Not really, but I have a feeling this is mutual. We should do what we can to try to change her mind, though. It would make it easier for my conscience."

"I wasn't aware you had one, Barbarian." She quipped back.

Martin shrugged, and his nervousness slightly lifted. "Yeah, well, shit happens."

Athria's body shifted back to a more serious form.

"Make this absolutely clear: She stays under strict observation," Athria said, her eyes locking onto Martin's. "One misstep, and she's done. We cannot jeopardize this mission because you have a soft spot for some Turian drifter."

Martin opened his mouth to protest, but Athria pushed through. "And this is the last time you make a decision like this without consulting me first. Understood?"

Martin relented, breathing out the word he was prepared to say. "Yeah. Sure."

""""""""

Esel paced down the narrow corridors of the Batarian transport. The Human and the Asari made an ass out of them twice now, first on Omega and finally on Illium. If the Human intended to piss them off, it sure worked. They forced them to stay on the ship not only so they couldn't follow them but also to trap them here by the docking authority. As soon as they stepped off the ramp and saw Bekar, it was over for them. Of course, they couldn't pay the docking fee, and Bekar spent five days in lockup while Esel had to come up with an obscene amount of credits to pay for the fees. They were so far behind them now that they had to refocus.

Esel walked into the cramped comms room next to the bridge, seeing Bekar hunched over a terminal, his broad shoulders nearly filling the small space. He was just finishing his call, his voice low and gruff. As he ended the transmission, he leaned back in his chair, exhaling sharply. The sight of her shadow cast on the wall in front of him caused him to turn around.

She saw his face was shriveled and snarly; it must have been bad news, she thought. "New orders? Esel asked. She kept her voice low and quiet, attempting to add to his rage. Bekar nodded. His expression remained angry and tight. "The Broker's given us a new plan. He doesn't want the Quarian or whoever. They've led us on enough of a wild goose chase, and the broker doesn't want to risk another hasty run-in with that human."

Esel was confused at first before she realized the plan. Going after the artifacts themselves would be suicide. "What does he want us to do then?" Esel asked.

Bekar's face loosened as he let go of a small smile. "The Broker intercepted one of their transmissions. They are going after all. He wants us to tail them and grab it from the site or from them as they make their way back." Esel's brows dropped as she processed the information. "In this ship? And against them?" She protested.

Bekar stood up, meeting her at her level. "It's risky, but it's our best shot at turning this mess around. We've wasted too much time already. The Broker is giving us some resources to bring this ship up to task. And besides, this Human really pisses me off."

Esel crossed her arms; skepticism floated about her head. "Scavengers then? Then hope the Geth don't see us? Risky."

"They're doing the heavy lifting for us. We stay in their shadow, strike when the time is right, and take the prize from under their noses. The Broker's funding will help us get this ship into shape, but we need to be ready to pounce." he retorted.

Esel considered her words and the weight of the situation; they had already been humiliated twice, and another failure would likely be their last. They couldn't afford to waste any more time. "Agreed."