The cell door closes with a quiet hiss and thunk. Ontari pushes off from where she had been leaning against the wall, Entani eyes Teben's wounds and Torvun seems to have never taken his eyes off her the entire time.
"Do you trust what she says?" Ontari asks.
"Yes," Clarke says, and she does, at least a little.
"So what do we do now, Clarke?" Entani adds as she seems to consider whatever it is that comes to mind.
"We talk to the people in charge here," Clarke answers. "I want to see if anything strange has happened," and Clarke thinks for a moment about who it could be that is giving Teben, and whoever else is helping her, access to tech. For just a moment, Clarke also considers the possibility that it might be a member of Skaikru, that it might be someone who has become unsatisfied with the current status quo of how tech is shared amongst the clans.
"And the prisoner?" Ontari asks.
"We'll leave her here for now," and Clarke looks over her shoulder to Teben who seems to have watched, to have tried to discern what could have been said. "She's not going anywhere."
What was once the Ark's command room still stands awash with a slight blue tint. The wall of panels each shimmering and displaying something different, some reports Clarke is sure outline the progress of projects, others seemingly displaying guard rotations, supply levels, even the whereabouts of hunting or scouting parties that have travelled into the forest.
It doesn't surprise Clarke to find Anya and Costia both present, both women eyeing the few Skaikru guards who would always be in attendance when Skaikru's senior leadership met.
It's funny, too, Clarke thinks, as she looks from Azgeda to Trikru to Skaikru, each member just a little uncomfortable at where they have found themselves now.
But Clarke's gaze lands on her mother whose gaze hasn't left hers for a long while, who seems to be trying to find the words to the questions she must have, or perhaps she simply tries to memorise Clarke's face, the scars etched into her cheeks and forehead, if only because Clarke knows she hasn't visited nearly as often as her mother would like, especially in recent months with Azgeda having been so shaken.
"So the prisoner," Abby says into the awkwardness.
"Teben," Clarke offers.
"Teben," Abby nods. "Where did she come from? Why is she a prisoner?"
And so Clarke rolls her shoulders, looks up into an overhead light and begins to organise the events of the last few days. She looks down and to those who surround her, and she sees faces she knows, people she is familiar with, who she would trust, though some more than others.
"Not long ago," Clarke says and she feels Kane lean closer, the man's gaze curious, she sees Bellamy's head tilt to the side ever so slightly. Even Wells, who had accompanied them from Ton DC listens with closer intent, despite his knowledge of what she is to say. "I was told by King Roan that someone was sabotaging Azgeda tech," and she sees Abby blink a few times, she sees Kane nod.
"What's the evidence?" Kane asks.
"One of the radios was tampered with, it was tuned to a different frequency in the hopes that Echo wouldn't know what to do, or wouldn't notice until she needed it to talk with our capital."
"And that's sabotage?" Bellamy asks carefully, and Clarke sees the doubt in his eyes, in the way he folds his arms across his chest.
"There's more," and Clarke looks away and to her mother.
"The prisoner," she says, realisation dawning on her.
"Yeah," Clarke says. "Teben attacked us," she gestures to herself and to Ontari, Entani and Torvun. "Those she was with attacked us but we defended ourselves," and Clarke thinks a moment. "We found tech in the reaper tunnels, it was broken, but as soon as we realised what it was we were ambushed. And Teben's said enough for us to know that her people — whoever they are — don't trust tech, blame it for their problems."
"I see," Kane says and he brings a hand up to scratch at the beard that seems comically small in comparison to Torvun's who Clarke notices eyes the motion with a quiet mirth.
"I'm going to cut to the chase," Clarke says then and she lets her gaze harden, she lets her voice turn a little cold. "Part of me thinks it's a member of Skaikru who's behind this," and she doesn't miss the scowling across Bellamy's face, nor does she miss the raising of Anya's eyebrow or the way Costia's head cocks to the side in surprise.
"Clarke, we wouldn—"
"I'm not accusing any of you of being behind it," Clarke interrupts her mother as kindly as she can. "If I thought it was one of you then I'd be keeping my suspicions to myself."
"Why not someone from the clans?" Bellamy says.
"They have no reason to want to destroy tech," Clarke counters. "At least no one whose in a position in convince others to join their cause," and Clarke thinks it unlikely.
"Why?" Bellamy asks.
"Why would they want tech to be destroyed?" and Clarke gestures around the table to the Trikru. "With tech under Skaikru and Azgeda and Trikru control we're able to show the other clans how to use it. We've got the Mountain to help the clans that need help, to provide more food when required, to help the injured and sick. We're showing the clans that with tech under our control it can be used for good."
Those around her fall quiet then, and Clarke finds herself wondering if she has said too much, has laid blame without thinking through all the possibilities.
"Look," Clarke continues. "I can flood the forests with Azgeda warriors from the Mountain, I can even call for reinforcements, I can have them start searching everywhere for whoever it is that is doing this, but I don't want to," and she looks to Anya for some reason she can't quite find, but all she sees is the woman's gaze as it seems to study, to think, to gauge and analyse. "But I'd rather do things quietly. I'd rather not start a panic. So if you can help me, if you can tell me anything, then we can do this without things getting out of hand."
Kane grimaces at the image Clarke is sure her words have conjured, she even feels her mother's slight discontent, and yet Clarke can't find it in herself to care, not much at least, if only because she remembers how dangerous tech can be in the wrong hands, she remembers the Mountain, the reapers, even Nia's ambitions, her dangerous grasp for power.
"I'm not going to let someone else become another Nia, not after the Mountain, not after what happened after its fall," and she pointedly looks to Costia who she is sure understands what she means for the woman looks away for the briefest of seconds.
"We haven't seen anything," Kane says and Clarke sees him look to Abby, to Bellamy, even to Wells who so far has remained quiet. "I'm sorry, Clarke, but I don't think it's a member of Skaikru."
"How can you be sure?" Clarke challenges.
"We can't," Kane says. "But we'll keep an eye out for anything."
And so Clarke sighs, if only because she knows that for now, things have progressed as much as they can. But, deep down, she can't help but to feel just a little annoyed that she could actually flood the forests with Azgeda, have them search every little nook and cranny and cave and hidden path throughout the forests until they found the answers. But she can't. Not if she wants to avoid conflict with the other clans.
"Ok," and Clarke smiles as she looks from person to person. "Thank you," and she sighs, tries to clear the slight annoyance she feels building. "But just keep an eye out for anything. Even something small, anything out of the ordinary."
"We will, Clarke," Abby says. "I promis—"
A quiet beep echoes out then, the sound rich and deep, quiet enough so as not to be annoying, shrill enough to catch the attentions of those who fill the command room.
"Our scouting parties," Bellamy says as he turns to a monitor that flashes. "They're just reporting in, nothing to worry about."
Conversation turns to different subjects as Clarke's report sinks in. She finds the next few hours pass by quickly, most of what is said to do with trade routes, of rotating Trikru and Azgeda warriors in and out of the Mountain, of sharing in tech, of even what to show next, but through it all Clarke can't help but to think an underlying sense of suspicion lingers within the Azgeda, within Ontari who eyes the screens with a suspicion, if only because Clarke knows the woman eager for blame to be given towards someone, for a target to be had. And she knows Torvun eyes each person around them, his constant suspicion something she finds most useful in times of battle, in times when a blade may be all it takes to gut her belly and leave her dying on the forest floor in the middle of nowhere. She doesn't blame Entani, though, for the healer seemingly has tuned out much of what goes on, and has resorted to amusing herself by sharpening her spear's already sharpened tip in a quiet corner.
But Clarke's thoughts are broken by a hand on her shoulder a slight squeeze.
"Hey," and Clarke blinks back the surprise as she realises that people have begun to file out of the room, that her mother stands in front of her, caution and worry in her gaze.
"You disappeared for a bit," Abby says as she gestures for Clarke to take a seat.
"Yeah," and Clarke worries her lip, waves Torvun off, waves Ontari and Entani away, the signal enough that they know not to wait for her.
"You're worried about Teben and whoever is responsible for whatever is happening?" Abby says.
Clarke laughs though, if only because Abby's description of her worries seems so vague, so unknowing of the facts. But Clarke laughs for she knows it to be true.
"Yeah," and Clarke rubs the back of her neck, squeezes at the pressure and tensed muscle and tries to relax as much as she can. "It's the unknowns that are killing me," and she takes in a deep breath as she leans back into the chair she now sits in.
Abby smiles at that, and Clarke thinks the motion old, tired, happy and full of honesty.
"You look well," Abby says, and Clarke finds herself unsure of what to say, if only because she hasn't thought about much more than simply taking one step forward after another, she hasn't even thought she has had much of a break, of a holiday, even her Northern Hunts hadn't felt like a holiday.
"I need a break," Clarke laughs, the words a little too truthful than she had intended.
"How were the hunts?" Abby asks, and Clarke doesn't miss the slight probing in her mother's question, if only because she had purposefully kept what she was going to do vague for she knew her mother wouldn't approve, would fret and worry.
"Good," and Clarke cant help but to laugh just a bit at the memory of Torvun's body going flying, or of Ontari's yelp of surprise.
"I'd like to hear about them, if you'd like to tell me?" and Clarke didn't blame her mother for wanting to know more, for wanting to reach out to her.
"I've been a bad daughter," and Clarke can't quite help but to look away, to shake her head. "I haven't meant to keep out of touch as much as I have," but she forces herself to look Abby in the eyes, if only because she thinks it important for some reason.
"I was a bad mother," Abby answers simply.
Clarke reaches forward at that, squeezes Abby's hand before leaning back in her chair.
"The hunts were cold," Clarke says, and she watches as Abby clasps her hands in her lap, as she leans forward in the chair. "They're dangerous," Clarke adds, and she knows Abby must have guessed that much. "We found an animal's tracks pretty quickly," and Clarke can't help but to shudder at the memory of first seeing just how big the paw prints had been. "We thought we were going to ambush the animal, but it ended up ambushing us," she smiles though, if only because the memory is a good one, but maybe only because she and her friends had come out of it alive.
"How'd you kill it?" Abby asks, and Clarke doesn't quite miss the way her mother paused for just a moment before asking, as if she was seemingly unsure of whether the hunts were something not to be discussed with outsiders.
"I fell," Clarke says and she shivers at the memory, if only slightly. "I ended up on a frozen lake," and she sees Abby's eyes widen just a fraction. "The animal followed me onto it, and I broke the ice," Clarke says. "We both fell through, but I manage to get out before anything bad happened."
"And the animal didn't," Abby finished.
"Yeah," and Clarke smiles at the way Abby shudders just a little. "But I'm back here now," Clarke continues as she gestures around them noncommittally. "I'll be able to move from Polis to Arkadia and the Mountain more often," and Clarke makes sure she looks her mother in the eyes in the hopes that she'll see the truth of her words. "I'll be able to visit more. I will visit more. Maybe you can come visit, too, it'll be nice to get away from everything."
"I'd like that," Abby says with a warm smile. "I really would."
By the time Clarke walks out of the confines of Arkadia, she finds that the sun is already beginning to set, that her day has gone by in a flash. She doesn't mind though, if only because she thinks it good to have spent that time with her mother. She sees the hundred or so Azgeda warriors and the camp they have set not far out from Arkadia's walls, she sees the Trikru who have taken place in a campsite that seems much more permanent, too, and she hears the telltale sounds of warriors preparing for a night of rest, some in the midst of training, and others in jovial conversation.
Clarke sees a flash of black hair though, she sees a familiar scowl of determination and the grease stained clothes of a woman whose company she finds a breath of fresh air.
"Hey," Clarke says as she comes to a stop a short distance from Raven, the woman halfway through pulling apart what Clarke thinks must be a generator.
"Hey yourself ice queen," Raven answers with a smirk as she flips her hair over her shoulder and squints up at her as the sun shines a little too sharply into her eyes.
"How are you?" Clarke asks, and she eyes a bruise that seems to spread across Raven's cheek.
"Oh this?" and Raven gestures up to her face as she reads where Clarke's gaze is directed. "Training accident," and Raven smiles. "I thought it'd be good to learn some things," and she shrugs as she stands, wipes her hands off on her pants. "But I ended getting punched a few too many times for my comfort."
"Oh," and Clarke can't help but to grimace, if only because she remembers the days she had spent running from Ontari, had spent trying to dodge kick and punch the other woman day after day. "Yeah," she finishes lamely.
"Yeah," and Raven shrugs as she tucks her hands into her pants pockets. "What's up?"
"Can we talk?" Clarke asks and she wonders if Raven could help, could shed some light on the few things she has uncovered.
"Sure?" and Raven's head cocks to the side and her mouth pulls at the corner in thought for a moment.
And so Clarke waits until they find a quiet space, somewhere more secluded, where prying eyes and ears are far.
"Someone's been stealing and breaking things," Clarke begins cautiously.
"Oh," and Raven's eyes narrow. "You want me to fix things?"
"No," Clarke shakes her head and sighs as she rubs at her eyes. "No, I was just wondering if you had seen anything? Had noticed anything strange or odd?"
Raven hums for a moment, the sound thoughtful, considered.
"Maybe," she says, eyes narrowed. "Follow me."
And so Clarke finds it her turn to cock her head to the side as she falls into step behind Raven as the woman weaves her way deeper and deeper into Arkadia, into the small town that has begun to spread further and further.
It doesn't take them long until they come to a large shed, its doors closed and locked, its walls metal, twisted, rusted, welded together with a haphazardness Clarke finds charming.
"My workshop," Raven adds as she pulls out a key. "I was kicked out of the Ark," she says over her shoulder as scrapes the key into the lock. "Something about a safety-hazard," and from Raven's tone, Clarke thinks the woman has heard that warning far too many times.
"I see," and Clarke fights back the smile as Raven mutters something, she is sure to be impolite, under her breath.
"Welcome to me humble abode," Raven says as the doors slide open enough for them to slip through before she closes them once more.
Clarke blinks at the darkness, to the lack of light and to the shadows cast across the shapes she can hardly make out.
"Hold on," Raven says, and Clarke hears her fumble with something behind them. But, as soon as Clarke turns to see what Raven fumbles with, lights begin to switch on with a sharp clicking sound that echoes out around them.
Clarke thinks the large shed magnificent in an odd way. Tables fill its interior, each one's surface littered with broken pieces of tech, some sorted and laid out in neat rows, others much more haphazard and messy in their presentation. She even finds things that seem burnt, broken, and far beyond repair.
"Wow," and Clarke doesn't know if her voice comes out sarcastic, awed, impressed, a little teasing or some combination of all of the above.
"Yeah," and Raven begins to walk forwards. "Wow. Right?"
"So," and Clarke walks to the nearest table, to where what appears to be a broken radio, lies in ruins. "Is this what you wanted to show me?"
"Sort of," Raven says as she walks past Clarke, gestures for her to follow. "See all this?" and Raven comes to a stop at a table whose contents all seem broken, smashed, chipped or dented. "This is all broken."
"I can see," and Clarke laughs as Raven's eyes roll.
"It's broken," Raven continues. "But I don't actually know how," and Raven licks her thumb before rubbing it against a grease stain on her wrist. "Well, I know how it's broken. But not how how. You follow?"
"Not really, no."
"I can fix it. But someone broke it and I don't know who," and Raven sighs. "Normally scouting parties break things, they fall, get into trouble, things like that. Or a grounder breaks it, and returns it denying they did anything that they shouldn't have, but I know they're just too proud to admit they forgot how to use it," and Clarke can't help but to smile, if only because she knows far too many Azgeda warriors that would fit that description. "But this?" and Raven spreads her arms before her. "This stuff shows up broken here and there and I don't have a culprit."
"And that's it?" Clarke asks. "That's all that's been happening?"
Raven pauses then, seems to think, to consider and to ponder. "Not quite," and she reaches forward and to a piece of tech that remains in tatters. "See this?" and she gestures to the wires that look like they've been sliced, pulled apart.
"Yeah," and Clarke nods, if only because she sees but perhaps doesn't quite know what she's supposed to recognise.
"You don't know what I'm showing you, do you?" Raven laughs.
"Not quite," and Clarke feels the tips of her ears reddened just barely.
"It's missing some wires," Raven says simply. "At first I just assumed it was because of it getting broken, that pieces were lost in the act of it breaking," and she bites her lip for a moment. "But now that you've mentioned this, maybe it's not a coincidence," and she sighs, drops the piece of metal back to the table.
"So there's pieces of tech missing?" and Clarke's mind begins to turn, begins to sift through the possibilities. "What does that mean?"
"Well," and Raven looks around, seems to study the other pieces of tech. "It's only just random bits and pieces that go missing, I don't even think someone knows what they're looking for, but if they know what they're doing, or even if they get lucky, they could make any number of things given enough time and spare parts."
At that Clarke's blood freezes, her mind races to the worst case scenarios and she can't hold back the head ache she feels building.
"Like bombs?" Clarke asks. "Weapons?"
"No," and Raven shakes her head. "That'd be too hard," but she pauses, seems to think, to consider. "Maybe?"
Clarke can't hold back the clenching of her jaw, or the way her heart begins to beat even faster in her chest at the memories of Nia, of the Mountain and of the wars she has fought in.
"Sorry," and Raven's voice comes out quiet and careful, perhaps even remorseful.
"It's not your fault," Clarke shakes her head, sighs and forces herself to smile. "Thanks for showing me," and Clarke looks around and to the other things littered about. "Can you let me know if any other stuff goes missing, too?"
"Sure," Raven says, but she pauses for a moment, seems to think, and whatever it is must be good for she smiles and begins walking deeper into the shed. "Hey," and she gestures for Clarke to follow.
"What?"
"Well, I've got good news, too," and Raven comes to a stop by a table tucked away in the far corner. "Think of it as the good news after the bad."
"What is it?" Clarke asks as she eyes the piping that runs up the shed's walls.
"I don't know if you remember," Raven says. "But ages ago, when we were trying to fix the dam's generators," and Clarke thinks back to the time that seems so long ago.
"Yeah?"
"Well, it got me thinking about all the fire hazards in the Mountain," and Clarke knows Raven means the wood that the warriors have placed throughout the Mountain in the hopes of making it feel less like the Mountain and more like the forests, and she knows that Raven also speaks of the torches that burn and flicker their flames. "That conversation got me thinking, and it's still in testing, so don't go telling people," and Raven reaches out, flips a switch and steps back. "But I've been working on a fire suppression system for Arkadia and the Mountain," and Clarke smiles as a light mist of water begins to spurt out from a tap high overhead.
Raven turns it off before the water can do much more cover the ground in a slight mist.
"It's not finished, but I thought it'd be good, be able to help the grounders," and Raven looks away for a moment. "After the missile hit TonDC, I just thought it'd be able to help people if other disasters happened, that it'd help lessen the load if we could help fight any fires," and she sighs. "Especially because so many buildings are made of wood," she says. "So that's my good news to help wash away the bad."