Chapter Twenty: Andvara-Gestr
"Go you must. No guest shall stay in one place for ever. Love will be lost if you sit too long at a friend's fire." - Havamal
Athria stood by the window in the small med-bay, her gaze fixed on the sight of the other wards of the Citadel. The quiet hum of the station vibrating through the ship beneath her feet did little to soothe the tension in her chest. It had been days since Martin was brought back aboard, unconscious and fevered, his body barely responding to the limited medical care they could provide. She pressed her palms against the cool window surface, the cold seeping into her skin, but it did nothing to quiet the turmoil within.
She couldn't shake the memory of his face when she first saw him bloodied, bruised, and battered from what she could only imagine was a brutal fight. He had looked so broken, at least compared to his usual stiff cocky stupid demeanor, and it haunted her. More than it really should have, or so she thought. What worried her was his recklessness. Could she trust him not to put himself in that situation again? Rinn told her everything in vivid detail, how he refused to pull his pistol out on the entire group of Mercs. He could have ended it before it started, but he didn't. The only stupid explanation she could come up with was that he was testing himself or some useless human warrior honor code. It was the only illogical thing she could come up with. His thought process was always so foreign to her and probably everyone else.
A soft beeping from the nearby console pulled her attention away from the window. She turned to see the med-bay's readouts displaying the same frustrating data—Martin's vitals were stable, but he hadn't stirred since he was brought in. Athria knew they couldn't afford to wait much longer, not with the mission hanging in the balance, but every time she considered moving forward, the thought of leaving Martin behind felt like a betrayal. Not that the ship was letting them leave yet.
She sighed, brushing her hand over her fringe as if she had hair. Rinn was in the room, sitting quietly beside Martin's bed, her expression a mixture of concern and tiredness. The quarian had barely left his side, and Athria had caught her dozing off more than once, only to wake with a startle whenever the med-bay's monitors emitted a new sound.
Any change?" Athria asked quietly, though she already knew the answer.
Rinn shook her head, her eyes never leaving Martin's pale, still form. "He... he mumbled something earlier, but it didn't make any sense. Just... noises, really."
Athria nodded, a familiar weight settling on her shoulders. She crossed the room to stand beside Rinn, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You should get some rest, Rinn. You've been here long enough."
Rinn shook her head again, more firmly this time. "I can't leave him, not yet. He might wake up soon, and he'll need someone here."
Athria wanted to argue, but she understood the sentiment all too well. She had felt the same way, refusing to leave the med-bay except when absolutely necessary, but it had been days, and her own exhaustion was beginning to take its toll. "We all need to be ready when he does. But you're no good to anyone if you're too tired to help." Rinn finally tore her eyes away from Martin to look up at Athria and gave a tired sigh of acceptance before standing and walking out of the room.
She was surprised at Rinn's reluctance to leave, more surprised that Velpia wasn't the one lording over him, considering their past. It continued to fuel her suspicion further against her. She didn't care for him, only using him. Athria's words circled her mind. They were all using him for their own reasons.
She turned back to Martin, his face still and expressionless. His breathing was steady, but something was unsettling about his stillness. Martin was never one to stay down for long, always ready with a quick remark or a reckless move that drove her insane. But now, lying there in the med bay, he seemed so far removed from the man she had come to know—like a shadow of himself, trapped in whatever hellscape barbarians dream of when they slumber.
Athria clenched her fists, frustration bubbling up within her. They were supposed to be a team, but the longer she stood there, the more isolated she felt. Velpia had been distant since the incident, keeping to herself and avoiding even the most casual interactions. Athria had tried to confront her, to get a sense of what was going on in that Turian mind of hers. Still, Velpia always deflected, retreating behind that cold, calculating exterior. And Rinn, sweet, loyal Rinn, was too wrapped up in her concern for Martin to see the bigger picture.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Dez appeared in the doorway, her usual energy tempered by a rare seriousness. She glanced at Martin, then back to Athria, his eyes narrowing as he took in the exhaustion etched on her face.
"How's he doing?" Dez asked, though the question seemed more obligatory than genuine.
"The same," Athria replied, her voice tinged with a weariness that matched her thoughts. "Stable, but still out cold."
Dez nodded, her gaze lingering on Martin momentarily before he turned back to Athria. "We need to talk," she said quietly. "The ship's almost ready, and we can't afford to wait around any longer. If we don't move soon, we're just asking for trouble."
She took a deep breath, trying to steady the turmoil inside her. "I know," she said finally. "But I can't just leave with him like this." Dez looked at her in defiant silence. "The ground crews are running over final diagnostics. They'll be done in a few hours. I suggest we move when we have the chance."
Athria nodded her head. Maybe if they were lucky, he'd wake up while en route. If not, they'd have to improvise once they are on the ground. Dez walked away with Athria, taking Rinn's seat, reclining the metal seat, and kicking her feet on a table. "Come on, Barbarian, naptime's over."
'''''''''''''''''''''
Velpia walked along the docks, the ambient sounds of the Citadel's bustling port a distant hum in her ears. She moved with purpose, but her mind was elsewhere, tangled in the past few days' events. The weight of her deception, the mission, and the strange distance she'd put between herself and the rest of the team gnawed at her, especially when it came to Martin.
She couldn't afford to let her guard down. Not now, when everything was hanging by a thread. The Colonel had put his faith in her—begrudgingly, perhaps, but he had agreed to her plan after she insisted that they adjust their approach on Illium. The thought of his steely voice on the other end of the line still sent a shiver down her spine. The Colonel was a hard-ass, a former Spectre with a reputation that could make even the most seasoned soldiers think twice. He wasn't someone you crossed lightly.
She kept her pace brisk, her sharp eyes scanning the dock's horizon as if expecting someone to tail her. It was an old habit, born from years of living on the Omega, always one step ahead of danger. But even now, in the relative safety of the Citadel, she felt a gnawing unease. Something was off, and it wasn't just Martin's condition.
Her omni-tool vibrated at her wrist, snapping her out of her thoughts. The Colonel's name flashed across the display, and Velpia inhaled sharply before answering.
"Colonel," she said, her voice steady, though her mandibles tightened reflexively.
"Velpia," the Colonel's voice was as gruff as she remembered, carrying that unmistakable growl of authority, "Update. Where are you with the mission?"
"We're in the Citadel," Velpia replied, keeping her tone neutral. "Our ship's undergoing repairs. We'll be back in the field as soon as it's ready."
"Citadel? That wasn't part of the plan." There was a slight pause on the line, the Colonel's voice now tinged with a hint of annoyance. "You were supposed to report back after Illium." Velpia exhaled slowly, gathering her thoughts. "Plans changed. We hit a few complications. It was safer for them to lay low and move into a more secured space for the retrofit."
"A ship doesn't matter if you're too late to act on the mission," the Colonel snapped back. "And you should've contacted me sooner."
"I had to make a call," Velpia countered, her tone firm but respectful. "Sticking to the original plan would have compromised everything. I made sure we stayed off the radar. Between the Asari and the human pilot, it's hard to get information out without them knowing."
There was a beat of silence before the Colonel spoke again, his tone more measured but no less intense. "You're lucky this time, Velpia. I'm not in the business of second chances."
"I understand, sir," she replied, her voice clipped.
"Good. Now, where's your next move? I need coordinates."
Velpia hesitated, just for a moment, before sending the details of their ship and the intended destination to the Colonel. The thought of keeping Martin's condition from him gnawed at her, but she couldn't risk it. The Colonel would see it as weakness, and she couldn't afford to lose his trust—not when so much was at stake.
"Hmm, Do you still have the human male in your sights?" the Colonel asked. Velpia awkwardly cleared her throat, swallowing her reluctance. Yes, sir, he is still aboard the ship. He's just resting from a fight with a Krogan." There was silence on the other side as the Colonel looked over the information.
"We'll be heading out very soon," Velpia added, her mandibles flexing as she forced herself to stay composed.
The Colonel grunted a noncommittal sound that could have meant anything from approval to barely contained frustration. "See that you make them if necessary. And Lieutenant—this mission can't afford any more 'complications.' Don't make me regret letting you adjust the plan."
"Understood," she replied. The line went dead, leaving Velpia alone with her thoughts once more. She continued her walk along the docks, the conversation replaying in her mind. The Colonel's trust was a fragile thing, hard-earned and easily lost. She had to ensure she didn't give him any reason to doubt her. Martin's life probably depended on it more than he even realized.
Velpia's steps slowed as she neared the docked ship, the tension in her chest only growing with each step. The Colonel's words echoed back and forth across her mind, a reminder of the tightrope she was walking. She wasn't sure how long she could keep this up if Martin didn't wake soon. It was a balance playing both sides, and she wasn't doing herself any favors recently. Keeping the team in the dark while also keeping the Colonel fed just enough to keep him from attacking was a strain on her well-being. If they didn't get a move on soon, everything could unravel in the worst way possible. Velpia did not doubt that the Colonel would overwhelm them and take everything he wanted to begin with.
As she reached the boarding ramp, she hesitated, taking a moment to glance around the dock. It was quiet, almost too quiet for a place like this. Her instincts shuttered from the silence like the area had just been evacuated, the calm before the storm. She forced herself to shake it off, thinking that maybe the entire work crew went to lunch or something, blaming her paranoia on stress and the lack of sleep. Still, she kept her guard up as she ascended the ramp and entered the ship.
The interior was dim, the only light coming from the soft glow of the control panels in the cockpit and the occasional flicker of the med-bay monitors. Velpia made her way down the narrow corridor. She felt the familiar hum beneath her feet, the vibration calming her nerves slightly. But as she passed by the med-bay, she paused, glancing inside.
Athria was still there, sitting beside Martin's bed, her face slumped over, sleeping. Velpia's eyes flicked to Martin, lying so still it was unnerving. For a moment, she considered going in, saying something to Athria, maybe even trying to explain herself. But she knew it would do no good. Athria didn't trust her—none of them did, really—and attempting to bridge that gap now would likely only make things worse.
Velpia turned away, continuing down the corridor. She needed to clear her head to think of her next move. The Colonel's orders were clear, but the reality on the ground was anything but. She couldn't afford to make a wrong move, not with so many eyes on her.
She reached the small bunk she had claimed as her and closed the curtain after she climbed in. The silence was almost suffocating. Velpia leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and taking a long breath. She had to stay focused and keep her mind on the mission. But Martin's face, pale and drawn, kept flashing in her mind. She had seen him in rough shape before, but this was different. He looked...broken.
Her omni-tool beeped again, and Velpia's eyes snapped open. She glanced at the display, expecting another message from the Colonel, but the name on the screen was unfamiliar. Her mandibles tightened. This wasn't good. She activated the call, "This is Velpia." she whispered.
The voice on the other end was low and distorted, almost mechanical. "We know where you are. The mission is compromised."
Velpia's blood ran cold. "Who is this?"
"Your team is being watched. Make the right choice, and no one has to get hurt." The voice sounded human, but it was low and sinister.
Velpia's mind raced. She quickly deactivated the call and bolted out of her bunk, her long legs sprinting down the corridor toward the bridge. Her heart pounded in her chest as she burst into the small space where Dez was running final diagnostics on the ship. She took to one of the side consoles and pulled up the ship's internal sensors on her omni-tool. As she feared, several unidentified heat signatures were moving through the docks, closing in on their location. This wasn't a random threat—someone had found them, and they were coming.
"Dez, we've got company," Velpia said, her voice urgent. "Get the ship ready to launch—now!"
Dez looked up, her eyes narrowing at Velpia's tone, "We can't. It would take hours to start the ship from a cold start and then the pre-flight checks."
"Damnit, we don't have time for this! Wake everyone up now!" she yelled over her protest. The cameras showed several figures moving toward the ship, their identities obscured by the shadows of the dock. But their movements were coordinated and precise. Whoever they were, they were professionals.
Dez shot her a questioning look, but there was no time for explanations. Velpia rushed back to the airlock, her sidearm drawn. She positioned herself by the entrance, her heart hammering in her chest. She could hear Dez rousing Athria and Rinn, the hurried voices mixing with the rising tension in the air.
The first figure appeared at the top of the boarding ramp, a dark silhouette against the bright lights of the dock. Velpia didn't wait for them to make the first move. She fired, the shot ringing out in the confined space. The figure dropped, but more were already rushing in behind them. Velpia gritted her teeth, taking aim again. Whoever they were, they'd made a mistake coming after her. She wasn't going to let them take what was hers.
Velpia's shot rang throughout the ship, pushing aside any thought of confusion. More figures emerged from the shadows, their weapons drawn and aimed directly at her. Velpia fired again, taking down another one, but the rest scattered, moving with the precision of trained operatives.
Behind her, she heard the clatter of footsteps as Athria and Rinn rushed to join her. Athria's biotic barrier shimmered into existence as she stepped forward, her eyes blazing with anger. Rinn, cloaked in the shimmering distortion of her tactical cloak, moved to flank the intruders.
The three quickly moved out of the ship and onto the docks, taking cover from the incoming fire. "They're professionals," Velpia growled, reloading her Carnifex. Athria nodded, her eyes focused on the now advancing enemies, "We need to push them off the dock and away from the ship!" Athria ordered.
The three women moved as one, Velpia taking point with Athria and Rinn providing cover. The corridor leading to the airlock erupted into chaos as shots were exchanged. Athria used her biotics to create barriers and launch shockwaves, keeping the attackers off balance, while Rinn took advantage of her cloak to land precise, flanking shots.
Despite their coordinated defense, the enemy forces were relentless. They moved with military precision, their armor marked with no insignia, their tactics suggesting they were well-trained and heavily armed. Velpia couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than a random attack. Someone had sent these soldiers, and they were here for something—or someone—specific.
Velpia moved forward again, picking up a rifle off one of the bodies laid out in front of her. The added firepower was appreciated as she began to fire off more rounds. A blast from one of the attackers' weapons sent Velpia stumbling back, her shields flaring as they absorbed the impact. She gritted her teeth, firing back and ducking behind cover. Their numbers seemed only to increase. How they got so many well-armed personnel on the station was beyond her, and this place should have been relatively safe.
Another attack came from the left side, putting an ungodly amount of fire on their flank. "They're trying to force us out!" Rinn shouted, her voice strained as she ducked behind cover, her cloak flickering. Velpia cursed under her breath. They couldn't afford to be driven out, not with Martin and Dez still inside. "We need to hold them here!" Athria glanced at Velpia, her face set in determination. "We need to move now before they overwhelm us!"
Velpia nodded, her mandibles tightening as she fired another shot, taking down an enemy who had gotten too close. "On my mark, push forward!"
They braced themselves, and when Velpia gave the signal, they surged forward as one. Athria unleashed a powerful biotic shockwave, sending several attackers flying. Rinn darted ahead, her cloak shimmering, and she took down two more with quick, efficient strikes. Velpia kept up the pressure, her shots precise and deadly.
The enemy faltered, momentarily pushed back by the sudden onslaught. Velpia seized the opportunity and pressed the advantage, her sidearm blazing as she advanced. But just as they seemed to gain the upper hand, a warning flashed across Athria's omni-tool. Intruders had breached the ship's interior—several of them.
"They're inside the ship!" Athria screamed out to the others. Velpia's blood ran cold. Dez wasn't a soldier, and she couldn't fend them off for long.
Without another word, they broke into a sprint, leaving the remaining attackers behind as they raced back toward the ship. Rinn closed the airlock behind them as the rest rushed down the narrow corridor.
When they rounded the corner, they saw the scene unfolding before them: Dez was cornered against the wall, a pistol aimed at her head by one of the intruders, while another stood over Martin's unconscious body, a blade glinting ominously in the dim light. Velpia's heart pounded in her chest, and without thinking, she fired or, more so, traded a shot with the masked men in the room. Her barrier and armor soaked up the shot but stunted her outside the room. Athria quickly reached down and pulled her away from the door.
The man with the pistol sneered, "Drop your weapons. Now." Velpia tightened her grip on her gun but didn't lower it. "What do you want?" she demanded, trying to buy them time. "We're not here to chat," the man said coldly. "We want everything you've got on the artifact. All of it. If you're smart." Athria's eyes flicked to Martin, still lying helplessly on the med bay table. "What makes you think we have anything?" she asked, her voice calculated, masking her concern.
The man with the knife glanced nervously around the room. "Don't play dumb," he snapped. "You're not the only ones interested in it. Now, hand over the data, and maybe we'll leave you alive."
Velpia noticed the slight tremor in the man's hand and how his eyes darted around the small space. They were alone, and they knew it. "You're a coward," Velpia said coolly. "You're not as in control as you think you are." The intruder with the pistol shifted uncomfortably, trying to maintain his composure. "We're in control," he insisted, though there was a crack in his voice. "Just give us what we want, and no one gets hurt."
Athria took a careful step forward, her biotics sparking faintly at her fingertips. "You're not leaving here with anything," she said, her voice low and dangerous.
But before the intruder could react, Martin's hand shot up, grabbing the knife-wielding man's wrist in a vice-like grip. Twisting himself off the table, overpowering the man, forcing him onto the floor and began stabbing.
Athria took her chance, coming out in front of the doorway and hitting the pistol-wielding man in the chest with a push of her biotics, rushing him and beating the man senselessly. Velpia turned her attention to Martin, who was still yelling like a madman, stabbing the already dead man again and again, completely lost in unfathomable rage, tearing the man's body apart, blood smearing everywhere.
Athria tried to stop him, but he forced the knife down again and again until Velpia rushed over and pulled him off the man from under his arms. Velpia tripped and hit the floor with Martin between her legs. He froze there, his face smeared with blood and anger and uncontrol pale rage before his body relaxed, his face still holding a stiff, contained anger. He was awake but didn't seem all there. Velpia held him there, reaching her arms around him as best she could to try to comfort him. Velpia shot a look at Athria, telling her and Dez to go.
""""""""""""""
Athria and Dez headed toward the front of the ship and passed Rinn, who was guarding the door. " We have to get the ship moving now," Athria demanded.
"We can't. I still haven't prepped the systems yet!" Dez protested. Athria stopped and turned around, her face covered in rage and anger. "I don't need excuses. We need to leave before more of them enter the ship! This isn't a time for arguing."
Dez gave in to her demand and rushed onto the bridge. It wasn't long before the ship began to shudder and vibrate. Athria watched as these so-called professionals began fleeing from the ship, about the time C-Sec vehicles began showing up. Soon, the docking arms retracted, and all the doors and bays on the ship locked down as the ship pulled away from the dock.
The ship limped out of the dock slowly, working through its auxiliary thrusters as the main engines hadn't come online yet. The ship rumbled and vibrated harshly as Dez frantically tried to calm it. Athria stood behind Dez as Rinn jumped into the console next to her in an attempt to assist. The ship was moving, just barely. Athria's mind fell into a worry about the condition of the ship. She was beginning to doubt if any of this was worth it.
Dez and Rinn worked tirelessly at the controls, and their efforts were evident in the gradual improvement in the ship's stability. The auxiliary thrusters provided some forward momentum, but the vessel barely made headway. Athria glanced at the viewscreen, watching as the Citadel's sprawling expanse grew smaller and smaller. The distant lights of C-Sec vehicles flickered as they observed from a safe distance, but eventually, the ship began to quiet itself.
"Give us about an hour, and we can get the main engines to kick on," Dez said, turning to Athria. She gave her a nod before leaving the cockpit and walking back to the medbay. It was empty, besides the bodies that remained. She closed the door before hearing rustling in the kitchen and entered the room.
Velpia was doing her best to attend to Martin, trying to wipe the blood off his face as he tried to eat a bar of some sort. If it weren't for the blood, she would have thought it looked like every parent trying to wipe a child's face clean. He was quiet and pale, although some color was returning. His steady stare down to the floor was unrelenting, as if he was deep in thought or just came from the trenches. She decided it best not to communicate with him directly.
"Is he okay?" Athria asked, her voice holding a note of concern.
Velpia nodded. "He's okay, but he's still disoriented and hungry. I've given him what we have; he probably needs some time."
"Everything's all right up front? The ship doesn't sound so good," Velpia asked with a passing concern.
Athria sighed, her expression serious. "The ship's engines are still coming online, but it's going to be a while before we're fully operational. We've just managed to get us away from the dock. We're moving, but not fast."
"So much for upgrades," Velpia murmured. Athria hated that remark but couldn't completely hold it against her. She wasn't wrong. The ship could have been in better shape to begin with. She damned the Initiative in the back of her mind for putting her in this situation. Maybe Dez was right. Maybe they would have been better off just running off somewhere quiet.