Chapter Seventeen: Citadel
"Every decision is a decision against something else."
Velpia awoke to the steady hum of the ship's engine, the vibration resonating through her as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. The darkness of the small bunk room made it difficult to judge the time, but the quiet told her the others were still asleep. Careful not to disturb anyone, she slid out of the bunk and stretched, her muscles stiff from the uncomfortable mattress.
She saw Martin in the top bunk across from hers; the private curtain pulled open. His back was turned to her, but he seemed to be sleeping soundly, something she knew he struggled with.
Velpia made her way out of the bunk room and shut the door behind her. She quietly made her way through the narrow corridor, her footsteps barely audible on the metal floor. The ship was small, and the layout was already familiar after their frantic preparation to get it flight-ready. When she reached the bridge, she hesitated again at the door, then took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Athria was there, as expected, her gaze fixed on the stars outside the window. The Asari didn't turn to acknowledge Velpia's presence, but Velpia could tell she was aware of her. She wondered what Martin told her of them. The way the Asari acted towards her during their meeting before they left Illium was not great. Athria made it almost impossible for her to speak or give them advice. Velpia figured it wouldn't have been easy to gain their trust but didn't expect such pushback from her; worse yet, Martin didn't stop her.
"Couldn't sleep?" Velpia asked, trying to keep her tone light as she approached the co-pilot's seat. Athria finally glanced at her, her expression neutral but her eyes guarded. "Someone has to keep an eye on the controls." Her voice was mono-toned but sharp. Reminding her of how Martin described her. "What do you want, Velpia?
Velpia tried staying diplomatic; she didn't want to be the reason the mission failed or give her a reason to kick her off the ship.
"Just thought I'd check in," Velpia replied, sitting and trying to appear relaxed. "We're stuck on this ship together, so I thought we could discuss things."
Velpia held back a sigh. She knew this would be difficult but couldn't let Athria's mistrust deter her. "Look, I get it. You don't trust me. But whatever issues you and I have, they can't get in the way of the mission."
"And what exactly do you want, Velpia?" Athria asked, her tone still icy. "Are you trying to convince me you're here out of the goodness of your heart?"
"I'm here because of Martin," Velpia admitted. "I know you don't trust me, but he does—or at least he used to. I owe it to him to prove that I'm not a threat."
Athria dropped her hands from pretending to look through the controls and studied her for a long moment. "You are here for him? For what reason? Moral support? No wonder he's a mess with support like yours. It's a wonder he isn't dead."
Velpia's jaw tightened from her words, but she forced herself to remain calm. "And what have you done with him besides using him? Besides dragging him along on this mission, putting him in danger?"
Athria arched an eyebrow, her expression skeptical, but a smile pulled on her right cheek. Clearly, so she could see it. "You mean do exactly what you've done? Do you know how many intelligence agencies were looking at you two? I know a great deal more than you realize. I know you pulled him through Omega and the Blue Suns, couldn't keep him away from Cerberus on Elysium, and on Illium, you used him as your ticket home and left him there."
Velpia's heart seemed to stop for a moment before quickly thumping in her chest. The audacity of this bitch was unreal. "It wasn't like that at all," she insisted.
"Then what was it? Athria's gaze intensified, "Was he a piece of meat then? Or was it all just convenience?"
Velpia felt a surge of anger at Athria's accusation, but she swallowed it down, forcing herself to stay composed. She knew that snapping back would only confirm Athria's suspicions. "It was complicated," Velpia said, her voice strained but steady. "He was lost, and so was I. We did what we thought was right; we messed up a lot, and in the end, it was better to go our separate ways."
Athria relented as her body and posture relaxed. Maybe she bought her response, but then again, Velpia didn't feel that she told any lies. "Why do you even care? You seem to be trying to defend him from something." Velpia flipped the conversation back around.
Athria didn't hesitate; she seemed sure of her resolve: "He is under my command. He is my charge. I am responsible for his well-being, along with the others. I-we need him if we are going to make it through this and not end up like those scouts."
She took a deep breath as Velpia watched her ample chest take in the air. "We need everyone at their best, so don't go making promises you don't intend to keep."
Velpia felt the weight of the warning; it almost seemed like she was pointing something out. She turned herself forward, looking out into the void in front of them. The conversation didn't feel good, but it could have gone worse.
The door behind them hissed open, and Velpia turned around to see the Quarian standing in the doorway. "You, too, should really keep your conversation a little quieter. I could almost hear everything from the back of the ship." The two looked briefly at each other in their seats, feeling a little embarrassed, before turning back to the consoles in front of them. Velpia waited for someone to break the tension as the room became quiet.
Rinn stepped further into the bridge, her visor reflecting the dim light from the controls. "So, where are we?" she asked, casual but curious. Athria turned her gaze from the controls to the Quarian, her expression softening slightly from what it was. "We're about six hours away from the Citadel," she replied, though the edge hadn't completely faded. "We should arrive just in time for the next shift change. It should mean we can get processed faster."
Velpia glanced at Athria, the mention of the Citadel sparking a mix of feelings within her. The Citadel wasn't kind to her when she last arrived. "What's the plan when we arrive?" Velpia asked, trying to focus on the mission. Athria leaned back in her chair, considering the question for a moment. "I need to make contact with someone who owes me a few favors, big favors." She paused, taking a deep breath. "We shouldn't have too much trouble from the locals; we should be alright to split up and gather other specific supplies everyone thinks they need. But that doesn't mean we should cause any issues while we are there."
Rinn nodded, her voice filtered through the modulated tones of her helmet. "Agreed."
Velpia couldn't help but notice the change in Athria's demeanor—less aggressive now that the conversation had shifted to the mission. "And after that?" Velpia pressed, wanting to keep the focus. "What's our next move?"
"Hopefully, we get everything we need and leave without incident."
"""""""""""
"All hands, we are coming into the Citadel Dock now." Dez's voice scratched over the intercom. Martin stretched with force, shaking off his deep sleep, his stiff body refusing every motion he made with an annoying pain. His brain felt dry and pained as he righted himself out of the bunk. He reached under the bunk and put on his accessories before heading out of the Bunk room. He was the last one to leave.
Martin groggily made his way to the bridge, where the rest were watching Dez dock the ship. "Oh, looks like you aren't dead after all." Athria commented on his bedridden look. Martin looked up at his reflection in the forward clear view screen. His hair was a mess. He could see outlines on his face where he hadn't moved in some time. "Has anyone told you that you look like shit?" Velpia commented jokingly with a giggle. Martin's mind still felt in a fog, which was unusual; it never took this long for his mind to wake up. "Yeah, I feel it." His voice was weak and scratchy.
Arthia turned her attention away from the dock and to him, "You should probably go get some coffee; you slept almost the entire way." The thought of coffee almost made him sick, he always detested the stuff, but a drink of something, anything else, he found appealing. He quickly shuffled away from the group towards the kitchen. He hadn't felt completely himself for a little while now. The exhaustion he was experiencing lingered longer and longer each day. Something might have been wrong, but with everything Cerberus did to him, he just brushed it off as normal.
Martin entered the small kitchen area, his movements sluggish as he fumbled for a protein bar and a bottle of water. He leaned against the counter, tearing the wrapper open with more force than necessary. The first bite was dry and tasteless, but he forced it down. The cold water felt better, soothing his dry throat.
As he stood there, staring blankly at the wall, as Velpia walked in. She hesitated for a moment, observing him quietly before speaking. "You alright?" Her voice was softer now, lacking the teasing tone she'd used earlier. Martin didn't look at her immediately, still focused on finishing the bar. "Yeah," he finally replied, though his tone didn't even convince himself; it was foolish to think it would convince her. He took another sip of water, trying to gather his thoughts.
Velpia stepped closer, her gaze searching his face. "You don't look alright," she said, her concern breaking through. "You've been out of it ever since we left Illium. Is something going on?" Martin let out a small sigh, leaning back against the counter. "It's nothing. Just tired, I guess."
"Doesn't seem like just tired," Velpia pressed. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the fog in his mind, and shrugged at her. Her expression softened, and she took another step closer, lowering her voice. "You should probably get checked out once we get on the Citadel. If I know you, you haven't been seen at all, have you?"
Martin chuckled after taking another sip of the water. "I think I've been poked and prodded enough for one lifetime."
"You aren't even curious what they did to you?" Velpia asked. Martin set the bottle on the counter. Vague flashes or thoughts surfaced in his mind, stalling his response. "You've already sent me that information before," he said, slightly annoyed but soon toned himself down. "I'll be fine."
Velpia nodded, though she didn't look entirely convinced. "Alright." As Velpia turned to leave, Martin finished the last of the water, trying to push down the lingering unease. It was easy enough to ignore if it was only in his head but someone else. Well, that was different.
""""""""""
The ship docked with a thud as the docking bridge and anchors attached to the ship's side. The crew exited, locking the ship behind them. They all huddled around each other, unsure of what to do.
"Everyone should set their Omni-tools to this frequency so we can all stay in contact just in case, Dez, "Athria said while turning her attention to her. I need you to come with me. I'll need some ship-specific data on what we need."
Athria turned her attention to the others, "I have something I have to check up on. I'll link up with everyone later."
Martin stood quietly, not saying a word, before turning and walking away from the group. "Martin!" Athria called out. He stopped and turned around, looking slightly annoyed. We can't afford any interruptions today." Martin quietly nodded in agreement before walking away alone from the group.
Rinn looked at Velpia and Athria as if waiting to speak up. "I'll make sure he doesn't get into any trouble." She quickly followed after him.
Athria and Dez turned away from Velpia and started on their own. Leaving Velpia standing alone on the dock. "Wow, I guess I should just go fuck myself." She said under her breath.
"""""""""""""""""""""
A few hours later, Athria and Dez stood in the dimly lit maintenance bay of the Citadel's docking sector, wrapping up their conversation with a ship technician. The technician, a grizzled Turian with worn plating, nodded as he scanned the datapad in his hands, inputting the last of the details they'd discussed.
"So, that should cover the main systems. We'll start the repairs and upgrades as soon as the parts arrive," the Turian said, his voice gruff but efficient. He handed the datapad back to Athria, who accepted it with a curt nod.
"Good," Athria replied, her tone changing from tense and exhausted to one of relief. She exchanged a glance with Dez, who seemed relieved that the ship would be getting the attention it needed. "Make sure the engines and shields are the priority," she added, her gaze narrowing as she looked back at the ship technician. We need this done right; no shortcuts."
The tall Turian gave a quick, respectful nod, "Of course, we'll get on it immediately. It will take a few days to get the parts, but they should be ready within the timeframe." As the technician walked away to relay the instructions to his team, Dez let out a small sigh of relief, her shoulders relaxing. "Looks like we'll be grounded for a bit, but at least the ship will be in good shape when we're done," she remarked, glancing at Athria.
Athria looked back at Dez, feeling relief as the stress washed away. "You know, you didn't have to come along with us, " she stated plainly. Oh yeah, and just let every merc in the galaxy chase me around; good plan." Dez's sarcasm dripped over her, making her feel uncomfortable. Athria knew that by helping them, she had already and would again be putting her life at risk for them, and they never really asked her to help to begin with. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry we forced you into this. It wasn't our intention." Dez sighed deeply and shrugged, "It's not your fault, but next time, keep a leash on your 'Barbarian." Athria nodded and turned on her hell, motioning for Dez to follow as they made their way out of the maintenance bay and back into the sprawling expanse of the Citadel. "I think it's time to check in with the others and see what mayhem they are getting themselves into."
Athria lifted her arm while they headed into a nearby elevator. The doors closed as Dez pushed the controls. Athria pressed her fingers against her ear and called the others. "Everyone, we are done at the docks. What's everyone's status?" The comms were usually quiet, but she waited. Soon, some distorted crackling slowly became audible as the elevator rose to the next level. "We are... Martin... to slow..., I'm hea... Dark St... to try to lose..." Athria froze in place, trying to understand the message. Dez, seeing the confusion on her face, turned on her comms.
"Sounds like Rinn's in trouble," Dez said. Arthria began clenching her fist. Her first thoughts were of Martin and his lack of ability to avoid getting into trouble. "That incompetent primate." she angrily breathed through her teeth. Athria's frustration simmered just beneath the surface, ready to burst, but she had to piece together Rinn's garbled message.
Dez glazed at Athria, noticing her tense posture. "Rinn mentioned Dark Star, a club in one of the upper wards. They might be heading there to lose whoever is in the crowd." The elevator dinged, signaling their arrival. The doors slid open to reveal the bustling crowds of the Citadel's upper wards, the artificial daylight spilling into the hallway. Athria wasted no time, striding out with Dez close behind.
As they navigated through the crowd, Athria tapped her Omni-tool, trying to boost the signal to reach Rinn or Martin. Static hissed through the comms, with only fragmented words coming through, adding to her frustration. "Rinn, Martin, if you can hear me, get somewhere safe, so help me." She angrily commanded, leaving no room for argument. Athria knew Martin was reckless, but Rinn-Rinn was supposed to be the cautious one. The thought of her being in danger gnawed at her nerves.
They both scanned the area ahead, her eye darting from one passerby to the next, searching for any sign of trouble. "You think they are being followed or is this another one of Martin's brilliant ideas?" Dez asked, her sarcasm thinly veiled by genuine concern. Athria gritted her teeth, her frustration with Martin bubbling over. "It better not be, I swear, if he dragged her into something, I'll rip him apart-"
Before she could finish, a sudden commotion erupted from an alley. A loud crash, followed by the unmistakable sound of a weapon discharging. However faint it was, it wasn't the sound of Martin's pistols, and she didn't see him take anything else with him. Athria's eyes widened as she instinctively reached for her pistol, which she gripped tightly. "Come on," she urged Dez as she sprinted down the alley.
They rounded the corner to find a group of mercenaries sprawled out across the alley, some nursing fresh wounds, a few others trying to stabilize another missing a limb with a pool of blood under them. She could barely see Martin behind a few stacked crates by the wall at the far end.
"I'm disappointed in you, Martin. I was promised the fight of a lifetime, but here you are, cowering behind some crates. Hand over the Quarian, and we'll let your pathetic ass walk away." The masked merc shouted through his helmet's vocalizer.
"Go eat a bag of dicks; You're only alive right now because I missed and hit your friend." Martin retorted. With her weapon drawn, Athria pressed herself against the wall, trying to keep herself and Dez from being seen. There wasn't any cover in front of them, so shooting now would have been a mistake.
"I'm sorry, but I have to ask something." Martin continued to yell. "What is it?" the Turian Leader asked back. "What color do Turian's bleed again? Is it Orange or Green? I don't seem to remember." Before the Turian could respond, Martin tossed a grenade over his head as the Mercs attempted to leap out of the way. It exploded with a loud concussive shockwave and bright light, which forced Athria to look away. What followed was a series of lightning-fast concussive gunshots that rang off the metal walls. She remembered the sounds as being from his pistols. She couldn't confirm because of her sight, but there were fourteen shots fired in less than five seconds.
When Athria's eyes opened, and her ears began to recover from the loud ringing, she saw a mass of bodies surrounding the area. Blood of every color was thrown about like a sickening modern art painting. A few of the bodies were missing limbs. One was missing the top half of its head. Amidst this chaotic display of art, Martin stood at the forefront, seemingly happy with himself, with a smile on his face, looking upon his work like a psychopath.
Martin holstered his pistols with a casual flick of his wrists, his grin still plastered on his face as if he hadn't just executed a small army in mere seconds. Athria approached him slowly, taking care not to step in the gore that surrounded him. Her eyes narrowed in a mix of disbelief and anger. She could feel Dez's presence at her side, the tension between them palpable.
Athria's breath caught in her throat as she took in the scene. The acrid scent of burned flesh and ozone hung in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood and the remnants of the explosive used.
"What the hell, Martin?" Athria spat, "This is what you call 'staying out of trouble'?"
Martin's smile faded slightly, his expression shifting to more of a feigned innocence. "They started it," he said as he shrugged. They were after Rinn, apparently." Athria's gaze flickered around the room as she was more concerned with Rinn's status. "Where is she?" she panicked.
"I had her run off ahead. I figured while she was running, I could delay them or... stop them completely," he responded calmly. Athria's anger reached its boiling point. How did this Idiot last this long on his own? "You let her run off by herself? How stupid can you be?" She yelled.
Martin raised his voice, clearly tired of the near-constant criticism. "They didn't give me much choice, Athira. There isn't much cover here, but there was less so around the corner. Not to mention the civies. I reacted to the best of my abilities."
Athria shook her head, trying to process everything. "You call this reacting? This is a slaughter, Martin." She gestured to the bodies littering the alley, the vivid bloodstains that marked where each merc had fallen. "We're trying to keep a low profile, and you just turned this place into a goddamn meat processor!" Martin's expression further hardened. He defiantly stood by his actions. "Low profile doesn't mean getting ourselves killed. I did what I needed to do to keep safe."
Dez stepped over one of the bodies and between the two, separating from and preventing things from escalating. "Argueing about this isn't going to help the situation. We need to get out of here and find Rinn. We can argue about this later." Athria took a deep breath. Dez was right. If they sent more after her, she could desperately need some help. "Right. She said she was heading to the Dark Star Lounge. We need to move."
The three moved away from the area, trying to act like normal, respectable tourists through the small crowds. Athria was amazed that no one seemed to care about the noise, considering how loud everything had gotten. But her mind soon moved back to the alley. She couldn't shake the image of Martin standing amidst the carnage, that unsettling grin on his face, and putting that together with the story Dez told her about Martin tearing through the transport as it made its way to Omega. His file made him out to be something like an unguided wrecking ball, but this was different.