Chapter Twenty-Eight: Judas

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

Athria turned on Martin, her eyes still glowing faintly with the lingering biotic energy. "What do you mean, "Where"s Rinn?"

Martin released her arm, and Velpia, seeing the shift in intensity, slowly lowered her pistol. He didn't wait to explain. Instead, his voice carried through the small space. "Rinn!" he yelled, already heading for the corridor. Athria, still processing, followed closely behind. "I last saw her in the cargo hold," she said.

Martin stormed down the ship's narrow passageway toward the cargo hold, his mind racing. He had a gut feeling something was wrong. When he reached the hold, the only thing that greeted him was silence. It was empty—no Rinn, no artifact. The tight, enclosed space felt even smaller in that moment, the absence of the Quarian painfully obvious.

"She"s gone, Martin muttered, clenching his fists.

Hearing the commotion from the bridge, Dez sprang up from her seat and met him halfway in the corridor. "What" 's going on?" she asked, her usual composure cracked with concern.

"We can't find Rinn," Athria explained, trying to keep her voice level. "And the artifact"s gone."

Dez's eyes widened, and she turned toward Athria, who had caught up and was standing by the door, her face set in disbelief. "Of course, it's gone!" Dez snapped, her tone biting. "I knew it! I told you all she'd been talking about was going back to the flotilla. She probably ran off with it!"

Athria's expression twisted with a mix of anger and denial. "No. She would "t do that." Her words were fierce, but the flicker of doubt in her eyes wasn't lost on Martin.

Martin stayed quiet, replaying their earlier encounters on Illium in his mind. His thoughts drifted to the group of Quarians he and Rinn met when they first got to Illium. Could Dez be right?

The corridor filled with an uncomfortable tension as Velpia emerged, clearly having overheard the conversation. She stood in the doorway, her mandibles twitching with a smug grin. "What, did someone pull one over on you, Athria?" she quipped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

It was the wrong thing to say.

"Shut your whore mouth!" Athria snapped, her biotics flaring as she turned on Velpia, barely keeping her temper in check. Velpia let out a sharp laugh, clearly enjoying the chaos. "Touchy, touchy," she said, but the humor was lost as the air thickened with the threat of another outburst.

Martin had had enough. "Knock it off!" he shouted, stepping between them again. "This isn't helping. We need to find Rinn. You both can have it out later!" His tone was sharp and to the point, leaving no room for argument. Athria took a breath, trying to control the anger rolling off her in waves. Her gaze settled on Martin, signaling to him with a quick nod. "We need to move out," she ordered, her voice regaining some of its usual control. She turned to Velpia, her expression hardening into something cold. "You stay with Dez. Do not let anyone take the ship, and no not step off the ship." Velpia raised her hands in mock surrender, stepping back toward Dez. "Whatever you say, princess." Clearly taking some pleasure in this.

Martin and Velpia left the ship down the short ramp. It was clear that Athria was still livid with the entire situation. He tried staying close as she stormed off ahead, but he waited until they were a good shot away from the ship, grabbing her arm and forcing her to stop.

"Hey!" Martin said, his voice filled with concern. She turned to him, her face holding her fierce anger. "Listen, you have to calm down. We need to think about this."

"Think? What's there to think about? We lost the damn artifact; we failed; we focused on the wrong damn person!" She yelled. Martin let her arm go, waiting as he watched her eyes change from anger to frustration. "Maybe, yeah, she got one over us. But we know what she"s trying to do, where she"s trying to go. We need to keep our cool and figure out where."

Athria seemed to take his statement to heart as she closed her eyes and took a breath. "Alright, Barbarian. Do you have any ideas?" He thought about it for a while. They couldn't just go about the city blindly. Rinn was a slippery bastard; he knew it.

"We need to find out where the Quarian ship is. If she called for them, that's where she's headed." He said.

"There are hundreds of ships coming and going; how the hell are we going to figure that out?" Athria countered. Martin smiled, "Illium doesn't allow any more than a very select few Quarian ships to land at a time, or hell, even get close to the planet. I know someone that usually watches over the docks. She may know what"s going on."

Athria sighed, "Alright, let"s deal with this then," she said, trying to relax.

Sometime later, Martin and Athria entered the police station where Bria worked. The sight of him there caused her to wince as if he were the source of her physical ailment. "I see I'm not the only one," Athria plainly joked. She quickly tried to ignore him and returned back to her terminal.

Martin approached the desk where Officer Bria was sitting. Her face was buried in reports, and she was tapping away at her terminal with an annoyed expression. Martin approached the desk where Officer Bria was sitting, her face buried in reports, tapping away at her terminal with an annoyed expression. "Bria," Martin started, leaning casually on the desk.

"I need your help. Have you noticed any quarian ships coming into the docks recently?" Bria didn't even look up from her screen, her fingers never pausing in their rhythmic tapping. "Why do you always think you can just show up here and bother me with this nonsense, Martin? You're not my problem." Her voice was sharp, but she had the annoyance of having dealt with someone too many times.

"It's important," Martin said, trying to sound sincere. "Someone could be in danger. A quarian we know ran off with something valuable, and she might be meeting up with a ship."

Bria let out a short, humorless laugh, still refusing to look up. "Right. Like, I'm supposed to believe that. It's always 'important' with you. I've had enough of your "important" things. You think just because you waltz in here, I'm going to drop everything and help you?"

Martin clenched his jaw, realizing this approach wasn't working. He was about to try a different tactic when Athria stepped up beside him, her expression darkening.

"We don't have time for this, Bria," Athria snapped, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "As a Spectre, I'm ordering you to tell us if any quarian ships have docked in the last few hours."

Bria"s fingers froze mid-type. She looked up slowly, her annoyance replaced with wariness. "A Spectre, huh?" she said, narrowing her eyes at Athria. Athria met her gaze head-on, standing tall with a commanding presence that left no room for doubt.

After a long pause, Bria exhaled and leaned back in her chair, clearly not wanting to test Athria's claim. "Fine," she muttered, turning back to her terminal. "There was one quarian ship that came in a few hours ago. Dock B69. I don't know what they"re doing here, and frankly, I don't care. But if that's your lead, that's where you should start."

Martin flashed a grin at Athria, impressed with her quick thinking. Athria gave him a slight nod, already turning to leave, but Bria wasn't done. "Hold on," she called after them. "Martin, if I find out about any more bodies or hear about another firefight that you're involved in, you're going to be arrested. Do you understand?"

Martin stopped and turned back, offering Bria a smirk. "Guess I'll just have to hide the bodies better next time. Bria's glare could have melted through steel, but Martin didn't stick around to enjoy the aftermath. He and Athria hurriedly left the station, making their way toward the docks as quickly as they could.

Martin kept pace with Athria as they approached the docks, not trying to run her out. The sooner they found Rinn and the artifact, the better. They cut through a narrow alley, a familiar shortcut to the dock, weaving between dumpsters and abandoned crates, neither of them speaking, focused on the task.

Just as they neared the alley's exit, Martin"s Omni-tool pinged. It vibrated on his wrist, the orange glow catching his eye. He raised his hand, slowing down instinctively to check the message. "Hold on," he called out, stopping in his tracks. "Athria, stop!"

Athria spun around, her biotic energy still lightly crackling around her as she took a breath. "What is it?" Martin quickly scanned the screen. "It's Rinn. She sent out an SOS." His heart raced as he studied the location. "She's just up ahead."

Without another word, they broke into a sprint again, this time with renewed urgency. Their boots hitting the pavement echoed through the alley as they sped toward the docks. Martin"s mind raced. What happened to her?

After a few more minutes of running, they turned a corner, and the docks loomed into view. But it wasn't the bustling activity of ships and personnel that caught their attention—it was the sight of a small figure lying motionless on the ground.

"Rinn!" Athria shouted, already running ahead. Martin"s stomach dropped as he followed her to the prone body. They reached Rinn"s side, her suit torn around the stomach area and blood leaking from a gunshot wound in her arm. Her helmet was cracked on the left side, glass shattered, leaving her visor partially open. She looked limp, fragile, her chest barely rising with shallow breaths.

Athria knelt beside her, quickly checking her pulse. "She's still breathing but in bad shape," she muttered. "We need to move fast."

Martin knelt on the other side of Rinn, his hands moving with practiced efficiency. He pulled out his first aid kit, grabbed sterile bandages, and shoved them into her wounds to staunch the bleeding. Athria was at his side, applying medigel to her wounds. Her hands moved with precision, her voice soft but filled with urgency. "She needs professional medical help. This is only temporary."

"I need to seal her suit. She has emergency tape on her," Martin said, disregarding her statement. His voice focused as his hands worked quickly.

He searched her waist bags, finding the small roll of emergency tape she carried for suit punctures. With swift movements, he began wrapping the tape around her torso, sealing the damaged sections of her suit to stop air from escaping. He repeated the process on her helmet, carefully covering the cracks and trying to restore the integrity of the seal. The tape was strong, but it wouldn"t hold forever.

Martin nodded, his hands still working. "We've got to get her out of here." He finished sealing the helmet and looked up at Athria, his expression grim. "You think the Quarians did this?" He looked up at her, breathing hard from the adrenaline. "I... I don't know."

As Martin finished sealing the last of Rinn"s suits, footsteps echoed from around the corner. He tensed, reaching for his sidearm as Athria stiffened beside him, her biotic energy crackling subtly in the air.

Around the corner, five Quarians rushed into view, their weapons drawn and aimed directly at them. "Back off!" one of them barked, his voice distorted slightly by his suit's audio systems. The leader, a taller male Quarian, stood at the front, his weapon trained on Martin.

Martin raised his hands slowly, trying to de-escalate. "We"re trying to help her," he said, nodding toward Rinn. "She's hurt. She needs medical attention." The Quarian leader's gaze shifted to Rinn's limp form. His body language tensed with anger, but as he took in the scene—Athria kneeling beside her, covered in blood from trying to save her, and Martin's hand still holding the emergency tape—his expression softened.

"Hold your fire," the leader commanded, lowering his weapon. The others hesitated but followed suit, lowering their guns but keeping a wary eye on Martin and Athria. Athria didn't waste a second. "She"s dying," she said firmly, her voice sharp with urgency. "She needs help."

The Quarian leader gestured to his squad. "Get her to the medics, now!" Two Quarians rushed forward, lifting Rinn"s limp form with surprising care. They carried her away without a word, retreating toward the docks with swift movements.

The leader stayed behind, his gaze shifting back to Martin and Athria. "What about the artifact?" he asked, his neutral tone edged with suspicion. Martin exchanged a quick glance with Athria before answering. "We don"t have it. Someone attacked her before we got here. They must've taken it."

The Quarian leader's posture stiffened, but he didn"t seem surprised. "The Admiralty will want answers," he muttered, shaking his head. He looked back at Rinn being carried away, and concern flickered in his eyes for a brief moment. "What will happen to her?" Athria asked. "We'll treat her wounds," he said. "Assuming she survives... the rest, that's up to the Admiralty board to decide what happens."

The leader gave a slow nod, announcing his departure, then turned and jogged back to his squad, leaving Martin and Athria alone in the alley. They watched as the Quarians disappeared in the distance, around the corner. Athria and Martin turned to each other, trying to catch their breath. "Now, what do we do?" Athria asked. Martin didn't have an answer for her; he was too focused on his concern about what he had just seen. "I don't know."

Athria lifted her hands behind her head, closing her eyes, her frustration evident. "We should go back to the ship and regroup. Try to come up with a plan." Martin felt defeated, but she was right. There was nothing they could do right now. Maybe they could work something out later.

They turned around, began walking back the way they came, and rounded the corner. Martin's ears perked up as they turned. A single figure stood above them. It was clearly Turian, holding something in its talon. The rumbling of boots followed as the alley, rooftops, and balconies around them filled with Turians.

A tall, unfamiliar Turian stepped forward with a smirk as he casually held up a familiar metal case in his hand. Martin"s heart sank. It was the artifact. "Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing in anger. Athria took a step closer to him, her body tense. "We can't take them all," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Martin clenched his fists, his mind racing with possibilities. They could fight, but it would be suicide. But the option was still clearly on his mind as he hovered his hand over his sidearm. The Turians had them surrounded, and the stakes were too high with the artifact in their possession. Still, the thought of letting it slip away after everything they'd been through was infuriating. "Don't do anything stup—" Athria began, but her words died in his throat as another figure stepped out from the group of Turians.

Velpia.

Athria's eyes narrowed, her biotics flaring for a brief second before she caught herself. "I have reconsidered."

The tall Turian in front of them, the one holding the artifact case, stepped forward, his demeanor confident, almost arrogant. He adjusted his posture, making it clear that he was in control of the situation. "I believe introductions are in order. I'm Colonel Galtus Dexicolus," he introduced himself, his voice cold and composed. "And I must sincerely apologize for what happened with the Quarian. She was... stubborn. Refused our demands and put up quite the fight." His tone dripped with insincerity. "Regrettable but necessary."

Martin's jaw clenched, his fists tightening as Galtus spoke about Rinn like she was an afterthought, nothing more than an inconvenience. Athria"s biotics flared again, though she kept her composure. Barely.

Colonel Galtus continued, turning his attention to Athria. "You, Asari, are free to go. Consider this a courtesy to the Initiative." His smirk grew as he saw the way Athria tensed at his assumption. "You can leave with your life under one condition: end your pursuit of the object. Return to the Initiative, report that you failed your mission, and enjoy your time alive." He gestured toward the artifact case. "The artifact is no longer your concern."

Athria's eyes flickered to Martin, her mind racing. She wasn't about to let this smug Colonel walk away with the artifact, but Galtus turned his cold gaze to Martin before she could speak.

"As for you, Winters," he continued, his tone shifting to something darker, "you're coming with us. Don't even think about resisting. If you don"t comply, not only will I have you executed here and now, but I'll make sure to kill your Asari, too." His eyes shifted toward Athria, his threat clear. "And if that's not enough, I'll order my ship to open fire on the Quarian vessel. The one carrying your precious friend, Rinn."

Athria's biotics flared once more, this time more intense, glowing with raw power. "Are you insane?" she snapped, her voice filled with anger. "You're threatening to start a war between the Turians and the Quarians!"

Galtus let out a cold, dismissive laugh. "The Quarians? They don't have the quads to start a war with us. They"ll be too busy scavenging for whatever scraps they can find." Martin's gaze shifted to Athria. The noise around them faded for a brief moment, and all he could focus on was her. Athria—probably the last friend, or at least the last friend-like person, he had left. He wasn't about to let her die because of him. "Well, shit," he murmured. Martin's eyes glanced in Velpia's direction. He couldn't see her face, but her body was steady; she didn't seem concerned. I can fix that. He thought.

Before she could react, Martin gently grabbed Athria by the arm and pulled her close, his lips meeting hers in a sudden, impulsive kiss. Athria initially stiffened in surprise; it only took a second before she relaxed strangely into it.

Martin pulled away, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he turned to Velpia, who started pacing angrily on the rooftop. He had seen her reaction, the jealousy in her movements, the way she clenched her fists. That was the point. If he was going to go down, he might as well make sure he pissed off everyone he could.

Athria, still processing the kiss, quickly understood why Martin had done it as she glanced in her direction. She saw the way Velpia"s anger flared, and a slight, mischievous grin tugged at her lips despite the situation. "Agian," She whispered as she leaned in again, this time fully leaning into the display. She kissed him deeply, making sure it was an image that would burn itself into Velpia's mind. She kept up the display for several moments, grabbing and caressing his face, trying to make it as believable and as infuriating as possible.

When Athria finally slowly pulled back, breathless, Martin turned to Colonel Galtus. "I surrender," he said, his voice calm and measured. There was no hesitation, no trace of fear in his tone. "Take me in."

As Velpia paced furiously above them, her body burning with rage, Martin glanced up at her. The sight of her seething made the entire situation somewhat bearable, even if he was about to walk into what felt like a death sentence. Colonel Galtus, on the other hand, seemed unfazed by the display, though there was a faint smirk on his face, like a predator who had just caught its prey. "Good," he said, motioning to his men. "Restrain him."

Martin stood tall, his eyes meeting Athria's one last time before the Turians closed in on him. He stared in Velpia"s direction with the largest smile on his face.Defiance at any cost.