Chapter Twenty-Six: La gamba di Lucifero
"What comes after the abyss?"
Athria stood at the bridge's viewport, watching the muddy terrain of the planet disappear beneath the ship as Dez expertly navigated them through the atmosphere. The engines roared as they pushed against the gravity and thick cloud cover, the ship shaking violently from the turbulence. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the back of the pilot's chair as she kept her eyes forward, mentally pushing the ship higher, faster.
She knew Martin was keeping to himself in the small, cramped cargo area. She hadn't spoken to him since they retrieved the artifact, but she could sense his unease from across the ship. Velpia and Rinn had left to clean off their armor and get a moment of peace after everything that happened underground, but there wasn't much peace to be found in any of them.
"Steady, Dez," Athria said calmly as the ship hit another rough patch, rocking side to side.
"Doing my best, but this damn atmosphere isn't making it easy," Dez muttered, her hands deftly moving over the controls. "Should be clear in a minute."
True to her word, the violent shaking gradually subsided as they finally broke through the upper layers of the atmosphere. The skies ahead cleared, and the ship leveled out. Athria exhaled softly, letting the tension in her shoulders relax just a fraction. They were back in space, but there was no time to dwell on relief.
"Scanners are picking up something," Dez reported. "Looks like several large Geth ships moving toward the planet, but..." She squinted at the screen. "They don't seem to care about us." Athria glanced at the console, her brow furrowing. "Good. Let's hope it stays that way. Get us to the relay. I don't want to stick around long enough for them to change their minds." Dez nodded, increasing the ship's speed. Athria's mind was already racing ahead to the next task—figuring out what they had retrieved. The artifact. Whatever it was, it had done something to Martin, and she wasn't about to leave that unanswered.
After some time, Athria turned away from the viewport and headed toward the conference room, carrying the case with the artifact carefully in her hands. It felt heavier than it should, the weight of what it represented pressing down on her. "Dez, once we're on course for the relay, meet me in the conference room," Athria said over her shoulder. "Got it," Dez replied, already adjusting the ship's heading.
By the time Athria entered the conference room, Velpia and Rinn had already arrived, freshly cleaned and back in their standard gear. The tension in the room was thick, and Velpia's unease was written all over her face. Athria set the case down on the center of the table, taking a seat across from them as Dez entered a moment later. Martin hadn't joined them, though. He was still cleaning his armor in the tiny, cramped shower room, trying to rid himself of the mud and, more importantly, the memory of whatever the artifact had done to him. Athria knew better than to press him now; he needed space to process. But they didn't have time to wait for long.
"All right," Athria began, her voice steady as she looked around the room. "Let's figure out what we're dealing with. Whatever this thing is and what it's doing." Rinn leaned forward, her visor gleaming as she analyzed the case. "Could it be some kind of psionic device? But that wouldn't explain why it's only targeting Martin."
Velpia shifted in her seat, her mandibles twitching slightly as her eyes darted away from the group. Athria didn't miss the movement. Velpia was hiding something.
"Velpia," Athria said sharply, locking her gaze on the Turian. "You seem like you want to say something."
Velpia's mandibles twitched again, and she hesitated, her gaze flickering between Athria and the others but refusing to speak. "Damnit, we don't have time for this!
"I... I don't know exactly, okay? It's just a guess... but it might have something to do with Martin's control chip. The one Cerberus put in his head during the project."
The room fell silent for a moment, and Athria's eyes narrowed. "The chip was supposed to be disabled. Cerberus couldn't control him anymore." Velpia said quietly. "At least, it seemed like it was. But... I don't know. Maybe whatever that thing is... maybe it triggered something. I can't explain it. But it makes sense, doesn't it? If the chip was designed to influence him, and this artifact is somehow tapping into that..."
Athria clenched her jaw, the pieces falling into place in her mind. "So, this could be more than just a random AI we are dealing with." She let out a sharp breath, her gaze hardening as she turned to Rinn. "Rinn, I know Quarians have some cybernetics. Are you feeling anything?" Rinn quickly shook her head. "No, Nothing."
"Alright, if that is the case, I need you to figure out how to shield this thing. Whatever it is, I'm not letting it do this to him again." Rinn nodded, already thinking through possible solutions. "I'll work on something. We need to create a containment field around it, something to block whatever signal or influence it's sending out."
"Good," Athria said, standing up. "Let's get to work."
Athria left the conference room, her mind still reeling from the revelations. The weight of the artifact lingered in her thoughts as she walked through the narrow corridors toward her quarters. She needed a moment to breathe, to clear her head from the constant barrage of questions and worries.
Once inside her quarters, she closed the door behind her with a soft hiss and made her way to the desk tucked into the corner. Her room was small but efficient, just as she preferred. She quickly stripped out of her commando gear, the armor plates sliding off with practiced ease, and changed into her more casual clothing—a dark shirt, fitted pants, and boots.
The artifact still sat in its case on the desk, almost like it was waiting for her. She stared at it for a moment, her mind swirling with unease. Whatever it was, it had a pull. Athria forced herself to focus, to compartmentalize the fear. She couldn't let it consume her like it had with Martin. She knelt and opened the safe beneath her desk. The metal door swung open with a quiet creak, revealing the secure compartment within. Carefully, she lifted the case containing the artifact and slid it inside the safe, closing the door with a final click. The heavy latch sealed it away, and she felt some of the tension in her chest ease. For now, it was secure. Standing up, Athria stretched her arms, trying to shake off the lingering exhaustion from their mission. But there was one more thing she had to do before she could rest. Martin.
She left her quarters and went down the corridor, heading toward the cargo hold where she knew Martin had retreated. His mood had been different since the artifact. Troubled. Shaken. And while he'd been trying to put on a brave face, Athria knew something deeper was going on.
When she reached the cargo hold, the door slid open, and she stepped inside, letting it close behind her with a soft hiss. Martin was there, sitting on a crate, his hair damp from his quick shower. He was dressed in his usual off-duty clothes—worn pants and boots, but he wasn't wearing his regular hoodie, just a grey shirt. His posture was tense, his shoulders hunched slightly as if the weight of the world had settled on him.
Athria approached him slowly, keeping her movements light and easy. "You clean up pretty well for someone who just spent hours rolling around in mud," she teased, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Martin gave her a half-hearted laugh, barely more than a chuckle, his mind somewhere else. "Yeah, I'm starting a new trend. Mud baths and bullshit."
She leaned against one of the crates beside him, studying him for a moment before letting the humor fade. Athira noticed his face wasn't filled with fear or worry; it was more like heavy thinking. "You okay, Martin?" Her voice was softer now, carrying the concern she hadn't shown in the conference room. She wasn't asking as his commander or handler but as a friend.
Martin was quiet for a while. His gaze focused on the floor as he mulled over her question. The silence continued for a while, but Athria didn't push. She gave him time, knowing he couldn't open up quickly, especially with something rattling him this much.
Eventually, he exhaled and ran a hand through his damp hair. "I think I'm alright," he said slowly, his voice measured. "As long as that thing stays in the box... I think I'll be okay." His eyes finally met hers, and she could see the flicker of uncertainty there—he wasn't entirely convinced, but he wanted to be.
Athria nodded, understanding more than she let on. "It's locked up. We'll keep it that way until we figure out what it really is. No one's going to let it get to you again." Martin gave a slight, appreciative nod, though the weight in his expression didn't fully lift. He was still wrestling with something deep inside, something the artifact had stirred. Athria could see that much. But for now, he was here, still grounded, and that was enough. She stood up straight and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"So, I hate to ask, but does any of what you saw make sense?" She asked, trying to see if he could handle the question. Martin rubbed his hand over his face and moved as if trying to read something in the distance. "I don't really know." He took another breath while standing, moving himself in front of her. "It's like it was trying... to relate to me. Or trying to communicate without words, using mine and its experiences." He stammered for a moment, trying to process the details. "It only spoke a few words. The moment you grabbed me and pulled me away, it flashed in anger, telling me to kill. I think it was worried that you wouldn't take it with you."
Athria recoiled slightly from the thought. "It wanted you to kill me?" Martin shrugged, "Yeah." She kept herself sitting on the crates, folding her arms, processing what he told her. "It's like a child or a piece of a brain. It doesn't know what's happened to it; it just knows that it was there and wanted out." He paused as a grim look flashed across his face, "I think we are making a huge mistake by taking it." Athria stood up. She almost felt the same way if it were not for the Initiative's insistent want of the device. "Maybe, but we have a job to do." She tried to convince herself.
"Yeah, sure, but if this thing latches on to someone else, the wrong kind of people, I doubt this thing will play nice. Hell, what if it can influence large groups of people?" The thought terrified her. She studied Martin's face as he spoke, her mind turning over his words. The idea of destroying the artifact crossed her thoughts. It would be so easy—one well-placed shot or a few charges, and whatever influence it had could be gone forever. They wouldn't have to worry about it latching onto someone else, manipulating minds, or worse. But then again, they had gone through so much trouble to retrieve it. The lives lost, the dangers faced. The Initiative relied on them, and they couldn't afford to throw all of that away, not now.
Still, the thought lingered longer than she liked. She sighed and brushed it aside, her focus returning to Martin.
"Look, if you start hearing anything—anything else—you let me know. I'm not about to let this thing mess with your head any more than it already has." Her voice softened with concern, though she tried to keep it steady. "We'll figure this out."
Martin gave her a slow nod, though his expression didn't change much. He was still deep in thought that much was clear, but at least he was here. He was grounded, for now. Athria gave him one last look before turning toward the door. She knew there was still so much to deal with, both with the artifact and with Martin. But for now, they all needed a break. As she stepped toward the door, Martin couldn't help but watch her go, his gaze drifting a little lower than it should have.
Of course, it wasn't that bad. Athria was still his... direct report, technically, after all. But hey, after everything he'd been through—dodging death, Geth, mud, and mysterious mind-controlling artifacts, getting attacked by clones, merc, a krogan, more mercs—was it so wrong to let his eyes appreciate something normal for a moment? Maybe just to distract himself from the chaos rattling around in his skull. Or at least what constitutes as normal for this place?
Yeah, totally just a distraction.
As the door slid shut behind her, Martin shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Get a grip, he thought to himself, trying to push the stray thoughts away. But then again, with everything that had been happening, a little bit of almost normal was exactly what he needed right now. With Athria gone, he was left alone with his thoughts, but the voices were quiet this time. For now, at least. But deep down, he knew they were still there, waiting.
'''''''''''''''''''''''
The ship glided through space, its engines humming steadily as Dez and Rinn guided it toward the mass relay. The system had been quiet since they left the planet, no signs of pursuing Geth ships or any other hostile forces. The nebula they were heading into glowed faintly in the distance, its swirling clouds and flickering lights casting an eerie glow across the stars.
Just as they neared the relay, the ship shuddered, the lights flickering. Dez cursed softly from her seat, her hands gripping the controls as the ship powered down, just like it had the first time they entered this nebula. They floated in complete silence for a few agonizing seconds, the ship adrift in the void.
Then, with a jolt, the ship powered back up, systems flaring to life as they were pulled into the relay's grip. The ship shot through space, emerging on the other side into the swirling depths of the nebula. The faint rumble of the engines returned, a steady vibration running through the ship as they floated through the dense clouds of gas and radiation, the rumbling of the outside reverberating the ship like a small home amidst a thunderstorm.
Dez and Rinn sat at the controls, guiding them safely through the nebula, keeping their eye peeled for the phantom ship while the others took a much-needed break. Martin, Velpia, and Athria had retreated to their quarters or to the small kitchen area, grabbing a bite to eat or simply taking the time to rest. The tension of the mission still hung over them, but for the moment, there was a brief reprieve.
In her quarters, Athria lay in bed, dressed in her simple night clothes, staring at the ceiling. Sleep eluded her, her mind racing with thoughts of the artifact. Despite Rinn's best efforts, even with the device she had attached to the box and the artifact safely locked in the safe under her desk, Athria couldn't shake the feeling of its presence. It was in the same room as her, and the knowledge was unsettling.
She turned over in bed, squeezing her eyes shut, but her heart began to race as the thought of the artifact grew stronger in her mind. What if it takes over me? The fear hit her like a wave, a cold sweat breaking out on her skin as she imagined it worming its way into her mind like it had done to Martin. For a brief, terrifying moment, she felt trapped—trapped in this small room, trapped with that thing.
Her breathing quickened, her pulse pounding in her ears. She tried to calm herself, forcing her mind to focus on the sound of the ship. The steady hum of the engines and the faint rumble of the nebula outside was familiar, grounding. She wasn't alone. This was just her mind playing tricks on her.
As she tried to calm her breathing, another sound caught her attention. Faint voices coming from the kitchen area just outside her quarters. Athria frowned, straining to hear. She pushed herself up from the bed and pressed her ear against the wall, listening intently. It was Martin and Velpia. At first, she couldn't make out the words clearly, but their conversation became more distinct as she focused.
"...The Andromeda Initiative could be a fresh start for both of us," Velpia said, her voice soft but insistent.
Athria's brow furrowed as she listened. "Yeah, I don't know..." Martin's voice came through, low and uncertain. "The thought of being stuck in a cryo pod for hundreds of years... it freaks me out, Vee. I don't know if I could do that again."
Velpia's voice became more urgent, pushing him. "But think about it, Martin. No more running or dealing with Cerberus, the Hierarchy, Batarians, or whatever else is out here. We could leave all this behind. Start new lives together. You wouldn't have to worry about anything in this galaxy anymore."
Athria's heart skipped a beat, her mind immediately going back to her conversations with Alec Ryder. He had briefed her on potential recruits for the Andromeda Initiative as she was one of their top talent scouts. Velpia's name had never come up. In fact, Athria distinctly remembered that Alec hadn't even considered her for the Initiative. More so that he said that she "didn't fit the mission profile." After getting the briefing, Athria protested Martin's involvement with this mission. Velpia's lying to him, she realized, her blood starting to boil.
The anger hit her hard and fast, hotter than she expected. Velpia was manipulating Martin, trying to sway him into something, but why? It didn't make any sense unless she was trying to get him out of the way of something. She thought about it briefly as she sat up in bed.
Athria remained pressed against the wall, listening intently as the conversation between Martin and Velpia wound down. There was a soft clatter of dishes, and she heard Velpia's footsteps as she left the kitchen, heading for the bunk room. The quietness that followed was almost unsettling after their hushed voices, but Athria knew she couldn't let this moment pass without confronting Martin.
Slowly, she eased open the door to her quarters and peered out, watching as Martin began making his way down the hall. She quickly whispered his name, "Martin!" just loud enough for him to hear but still low enough not to alert anyone else.
Martin paused, his posture stiffening as he glanced back toward her, clearly hesitating. Athria motioned for him to come closer, her movements urgent but quiet. He hesitated again, his expression unsure, but after another impatient wave from her, he relented, heading toward her quarters.
He stepped inside, letting the door slide shut behind him with a soft hiss. It wasn't until he was entirely inside and turned to face her that he seemed to realize what she was wearing—her silk night clothes, a soft flower pattern adorning the fabric, clinging to her form. His eyes darted away, and she caught the faint flush of red creeping up his neck, spreading across his face as he tried to keep himself composed. Athria didn't miss it. She smiled to herself, feeling a bit of satisfaction at his discomfort. For a man who could face death head-on, a little nightwear was enough to throw him off. She decided to use that to her advantage. Leaning slightly against the edge of her bed, she crossed her arms, her posture relaxed but purposeful, hoisting her chest upwards slightly.
"You know," she began, keeping her voice low and smooth, "Velpia was never invited to the Andromeda Initiative." Still trying to maintain his composure, Martin blinked at her in surprise, probably from overhearing the conversation. He glanced at the floor for a moment, then back at her. "I had a feeling about that," he said quietly, a small laugh escaping him, though it was clear he was still a little embarrassed by this situation. "I figured she was just trying to pull something." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I've been keeping an eye on her, you know? I've been... friendly, but only to make sure she doesn't cause any trouble. Better to have her think I'm on her side."
Athria raised an eyebrow, her amusement growing as she realized Martin wasn't as naive as she had once thought. Maybe he had been playing his own game all along. "Well, well," she said teasingly, "looks like you're not as thick-headed as I thought. You might just have some tactical sense after all." He chuckled, though his face remained slightly flushed. "I try," he muttered, clearly still fighting his embarrassment. Athria's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, purposely the feeling of having control over him filling her with the distraction she needed, and then, with a mischievous smirk, she leaned in just slightly, her voice dropping a bit lower. "Maybe there's more to you than I thought; who knows... maybe one day, you'll surprise me again." Her tone was suggestive, teasing him just enough to watch him squirm a little more.
Martin cleared his throat, clearly caught off guard by the shift in her tone. "I... uh, should go... get some rest before you do something you'll regret later," he said, quickly retreating toward the door, clearly needing an escape. Athria chuckled softly as she watched him fumble with the door controls before stepping out into the hallway. She stood there for a moment after he left, a small smile playing on her lips. Perhaps Martin wasn't as oblivious as she had once thought.