Chapter Seven
A/N: Early update, because it's Halloween. Enjoy!
One month of training felt more like one year. Training with Nihlus was a completely different creature from training with Aetius – this was brutal. This was a step away from murder. Though Nihlus never stuck it to her as badly as he had the first spar, he never held back – she lost count of the bruised ribs after 13. However, as much as she wanted to protest and cry maltreatment, she knew that she had improved. Nihlus had a way of motivating people to do their best, pushing them and pushing them until their either broke under the pressure or rose to the occasion.
She wondered if he learned that from Saren.
Today she was learning the ends and outs of the most up-to-date weaponry they had. She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. Hand to hand she was good, she could take out the standard fighter easily as long as their power level didn't go past a certain point. Weapons were a different matter. She knew how to work a pistol, how to aim and fire and hit her mark, but this was different. Lycia was prepping her to be a tech master, and it was clear what Nihlus wanted her to be to the team.
It took more than a pistol to be an effective Infiltrator. It took a sniper. It took the best hand to hand combat skills available. It took more than Clara thought she had to give, but she would be damned if she gave any less than her all. Tito needed her. She wasn't going to let him down now.
The door to the cargo bay opened and a brown-plated turian walked in, dressed in full desert camo armor with a Kuwashii visor over his right eye and a Mantis balanced on his shoulder. Her heart stuttered.
"Nihlus put me in charge of your training today," Creion said calmly as the door slid shut. "He wants to run you through with every weapon, see what you're suited for, and then specialize from there."
"Am I allowed to ask what Nihlus is doing?" Clara asked curiously, not wanting to press but also wanting to know why he wanted to brush her off on someone else. She thought she was improving – he hadn't said as much, but it was clear when she landed a few punches that there was some sort of difference.
"A mission. He's following up on some intel with Meriones and Boreas," he placed his rifle on the weapons bench gently, almost reverently, and picked up a pistol. "We're starting out simple. Nihlus said you already had some weapons training?"
Clara quickly inspected her new weapon, nodding as she cocked it. "I know how to use a pistol and a combat knife, that's it. We – I never had the chance to learn anything more."
If Creion noticed her pause, he didn't mention it. He just pointed her towards the targets set up in the back corner, pressed into a padded wall that would keep the hull from suffering any major damage. She knew, logically, that a single bullet wasn't going to be the end of the Actium, but she also knew that any weak point was no-bueno.
"Show me what you can do."
Clara nodded, inhaling deeply and setting herself up. She stared at the target for a moment, gathering her wits about her before taking aim and firing. She glanced at Creion, and when he said nothing she took that as a cue to continued. She fired until her pistol neared overheat before he called for her to stop. She lowered the pistol, keeping the barrel pointed towards the ground as he stepped up to the targets.
"Decent aim," he commented, arms crossed over his chest. "Lacking finesse, but over all effective."
She pressed her lips together, brows furrowing in confusion. Was that a compliment?
He stepped aside, holding out a hand for her to place the pistol in. He put the weapon on the bench and handed her a shotgun. The weight was a stark difference, and now her nerves started acting up.
"Keep the stock tucked in tight," he instructed, guiding her into position before stepping back to observe. "Watch out for the recoil."
With those last warnings he quieted, waiting for her to take a shot. She swallowed down her anxiety, took in a deep breath, and aimed. Her finger hesitated on the trigger, and it wasn't until she realized she had been staring at the target for well over 30 seconds that she fired.
"Jesus fuck!" she yelled over the explosion of the gun, the recoil enough to make her shoulder ache. It would bruise, no doubt, but it could have been worse. Creion glanced at the target and shook his head. Not a single tear – it appeared the padding got the full brunt of the attack.
"Moving on…" he murmured, snatching the shotgun away and handing her an assault rifle. She shook her head, raising her hands up and refusing to touch the metal weapon.
"No way in hell," she protested. "I could barely handle a shotgun, what makes you think I'll be of any use with an assault rifle, especially in an enclosed environment like this? I could kill you!"
His mandibles flickered slightly, a small motion that was the only indicator of his amusement. "Fine. We'll save that for when we have some ground time. We'll skip to the sniper."
Clara fixed him with a long stare: "You want me to try a sniper rifle."
"One shot, and the recoil might dislocate your shoulder but you wont lose control and accidentally shoot me in the leg. Not if you keep it aimed at the target."
He fished through the weapons rack, looking for a smaller rifle that wouldn't completely remove her poor shoulder, and left her to stew. She had the feeling this was another lesson that was going to leave her in the med bay under Sorthem's not-so-tender hands. He handed her a rifle, and this time he had the decency to at least show her how to hold it.
As she took aim at the final target, her mind was filled with the sound of an old Christmas classic: Ralphie Parker, sitting in class near Christmas time while all his friends and his teacher jeered at him, yelling "You'll shoot your eye out!" over and over. Suddenly, she was Ralphie Parker, and she was the one who was stupid enough to ask for a Red Ryder BB Gun when she was already warned about the hazards of gunfire. It was Nihlus and Nestor and Aetius and hell, even Shepard, standing around her yelling "You'll shoot your eye out! You'll shoot your eye out!"
She panicked, completely and utterly convinced that she was going to shoot herself in the eye, and pulled the trigger.
The recoil sent the butt of the gun slamming into her shoulder, and fuck a duck it was easily one of the most painful things she had ever experienced. She cursed up a storm and let the gun slip from her grip. Creion ignored her cursing (the barefaced bastard) and instead stepped up to the target. She wasn't looking at him, focusing her attention on her shoulder – definitely dislocated, and she didn't need a god damn medic to tell her that – and pressing hesitant fingers to the injured area.
She immediately and intensely regretted her decision.
"You hit dead center."
Clara paused, the pain forgotten for an instant as Creion's words filtered through. She looked at him, mouth ajar, and he just looked at her with that infuriatingly calm expression. "I what?"
He pointed to the target, and sure enough there in the center of the page was a single hole. Bulls-eye.
"Well I'll be damned," she said, awestruck. A slightly silly smile slipped over her lips as she said: "Take that, Miss Shields."
Creion fixed her with a mildly concerned look before he headed over, kneeling by her side to inspect her shoulder. He reached out to poke it and she flinched away before he even got close.
"I don't need to be a medic to tell you this shit's dislocated," she snapped, and to her surprise he laughed.
"Come on, I'll help you up to Doctor Hierax," he offered, wrapping an arm around her waist and helping her to her feet.
Thankfully, Peleus really was the one on duty when Creion finished carting her up to the med bay. She didn't know where Sorthem was, but for once she wasn't complaining – he was good, but if he cracked one more joke about her injuries and the potentially fatal scenarios they could cause, she was going to lose her mind. Decapitation by the Spectre in charge was only an amusing threat the first five times.
"You've barely been here a month and already you're our most popular visitor," Peleus commented, mandibles pressed close in concentration as he examined her shoulder. "I almost think you like letting Sorthem poke at you."
"The only thing I like more is when he jokes about Nihlus killing me," she grumbled, wincing as he pressed his fingers to her shoulder.
Peleus ignored her, instead saying: "You're lucky this isn't worse. It'll heal up in a few days. I'm going to put it in the splint and I want you to keep it on till you go to bed. When you wake up I want you to just do some simple stretches, try to minimize your range of use. If you do what you're told, it should be fine by day three."
"So…that means training is on hold, doesn't it."
"Unless you want to re-dislocate your shoulder and possibly cause even more damage, then, yes," He said bluntly. "Stick with your engineer training for now."
Clara sighed, but nodded. Creion handed her shirt back just in time for Nihlus to march through, his two team mates trailing behind him with dour faces. He didn't spare Clara even the slightest glance as he approached Peleus.
"Hierax, Boreas took some heavy fire," he barked, and behind him Meriones guided a slight, male turian to an open pallet. "It was an ambush. Our informant gave us a bad lead. Cerberus was waiting."
Clara pulled on her shirt, unable to stop looking at the impossibly black clan markings of Boreas. Juxtaposed next to Meriones and Nihlus, Clara could only imagine the image of terror that they created. His pale purple plates gleamed even know, when his face was twisted in pain and his armor littered with holes. Creion grimaced at the sight of his squad mate.
"You should have taken me down with you, sir." He said, stepping up to the CO without even the slightest hint of fear. "I could have had their backs while you infiltrated the base."
"We needed you here," Nihlus denied firmly, eyes flickering to Clara. "The sooner she's of use, the sooner we close in on Cerberus. If Boreas' biotics couldn't protect him from that turret, what makes you think you could have?"
It was a verbal smack in the face, one that made even Clara reel, but Creion showed no outward reaction. In fact, she wasn't even certain if it offended him at all.
"You went down in a group of three knowing full well that you would leave formation, sir," he dared to say, face calm. "While Meriones and Boreas are both capable fighters, we're used to working in a trio formation. Meriones' isn't able to take out oncoming waves and simultaneously watch their backs. That's my job, sir."
Even Peleus, who was always calm, looked uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading. His only saving grace was that Boreas needed medical attention. He focused his energies on stripping the patient of his underarmor, cutting through the material that stuck to his flesh, sealed in place by blue blood and medigel.
"We'll discuss this later, soldier," Nihlus responded, eyes gleaming angrily. "Meriones, escort Creion back to his quarters. I want everyone back in place for evasive maneuvers."
"What?" Clara asked, suddenly very interested in what Nihlus had to say. "Evasive maneuvers?"
The spectre turned his eyes on her, stern as ever, but she refused to retract her question. "Cerberus was preparing to send a fleet of fighters after us in an attempt to regain what little intel we did manage to salvage. Lycia will need a hand down in engineering. Looks like this is your time to shine, Johnson."
Clara hesitated only a moment before nodding, murmuring the barest affirmative before she hurried from the lab and down towards engineering. Lycia looked up curiously, opening her mouth to ask why she was there off-duty, when Tydeus' voice filtered in through the intercom.
"Brace for evasive maneuvers, we've got a tail!"
Lycia's entire persona changed – her face hardened and she pushed Clara towards the terminals, "Keep your eyes on the energy levels, make sure not a damned one overflows."
Clara nodded, barely able to take a breath as she kept her eyes on the ships vitals. At her left was Astyanax, the only other engineer on hand, and judging by the intense fluttering of his mandibles he was more than a little nervous.
Time passed like minutes were hours, Clara's keen eyes focused on the levels and tweaking appropriately as Tydeus guided the ship between the lasers fired after them. The occasional boom that filtered through the metal walls let her know that Meriones had taken her position as Gunnery Chief and was giving the Cerberus fighters hell.
"Approaching the Mass Relay – hold on to your plates!"
Clara held her breath, heart hammering in her chest as she counted her blessings and prayed that the core held strong. The ship vibrated, a barely noticeable sensation as the relay pulled them into it's beam, and almost as soon as the chase had begun it stopped. She didn't dare breath though, not yet, not when there was the possibility that the fighters would follow them.
There was a moments silence, then: "We lost them."
"Oh, thank god," she gasped, her air leaving her as she braced her arms against the terminal. Astyanax gave her good shoulder a clumsy pat, his mandibles still flickering even though they were out of the fire. Lycia came up between them, face still tense.
"Good work you two," she said calmly. "Clara, with me. I just got the memo from Nihlus: you're down here for the rest of the week."
She tailed after her, watching closely as Lycia went through the various bits and bobs that kept the ship in the air, explaining their uses and how they worked. Clara tried to keep up – she really did – but there was just so much information that it felt as if her brain were going to start leaking out of her ears.
"Go on down, make sure everything's in place, I'm gonna go check the levels," Lycia instructed. Clara nodded, sighing as she prepared for another boring sweep. Things rarely went wrong on the Actium, not with Lycia and Astyanax behind the gear. They kept the ship in tip-top shape, constantly monitoring the energy levels and making sure that the shift into FTL speeds didn't overload any of the systems.
She paused, halfway done with what should have been a cursory inspection, as a stray reflection caught her eye. She leaned in closer to the tangle of wires and metal splices, trying to see what it was that caught her. She paused at a pair of dull couplings, older than the other pieces mixed in. She reached out, running her thumb over the metal as she investigated. She felt a bump of some sort, and frowned.
"What the?" She murmured, leaning closer. Her breath caught as she spotted two thin lines in the side. It only took a moment for her to realize those were no mere lines – they were cracks.
"Lycia, we have a problem over here!" She called anxiously, running her fingers over the thin cracks. She swallowed and quickly checked the surrounding area, looking for anything that could have caused the fracture.
"What's wrong?" Lycia asked as she stepped up beside her. Clara motioned silently to the cracks. The turian cursed under her breath. "Those are the FBA couplings," she said as she took the links from her hand. Clara recognized the name, their purpose, and her stomach bottoming out as her mind provided her with the image of Tali, vaporized on their way through the Omega 4 Relay.
"What do you need me to do?" she asked as Lycia murmured under her breath, pushing around the surrounding parts, looking for anything that could have punctured the metal.
"Grab the spare set from storage," she ordered, "Quickly, please." Clara didn't wait a moment longer than necessary, speeding from the room. She dug her way through the boxes, cursing under her breath. This would be just her luck – thrown into an alternate universe and she can't even live long enough to see Commander Shepard in person. She was going to get vaporized before she could cure Tito, before she could kick Cerberus where it hurt.
She was over reacting, she knew this. Their couplings had survived the jump through the relays, survived the repetitive firing of the GUARDIAN cannons and the draw of the shields, they would certainly survive the few moments it took her to dig out the spares and replace them. She also knew that the Normandy SR-2 had flown quite fine without them, up until the relay. The few minutes it would take to replace the set they had weren't going to sink the ship.
"Yes!" She hissed out in success as she finally found the missing parts, making her way back into the room just in time to grab the old set from Lycia and pass along the shiny new couplings. She waited as Lycia installed the new set. Seconds passed by like syrup dripping from a spoon, and each moment without made her stomach squirm anxiously.
"There we go," Lycia said, pulling free from the device and taking a look at the ruined couplings, only then taking the time to really inspect the cause of their issues. "You've got good eyes, Clara. Now, the real question: can you see what went wrong?"
She lifted the couplings, tracing her finger over the fractures. "They must've been dropped or jostled just the wrong way. Maybe one of the pieces back there worked their way free and slammed into them when we hit the relay," She offered her a wry smile. "Good thing you keep spare parts around."
"When you travel with a spectre you usually don't have the luxury of time," Lycia told her solemnly. "We keep a few spares around for situations like this. We'll pick up another set when we hit port."
The moment after she finished talking her hand was at the comm. and she was buzzing Nihlus. He answered, though he sounded less than happy to hear from her.
"We need to pick up some spare FBA couplings when we hit port," Lycia said, unfazed as ever. "Clara noticed some hairline fractures in the last set, they almost didn't make it through the relay."
"I'll add it to the list," Nihlus responded, and for the first time Clara heard something other than agitation in his tone – he sounded exhausted. "We should be near port in about 18 hours. Anything else down there that needs updating?"
"No, sir, that's it."
The connection cut off and Lycia rolled her eyes. Of all the people on deck, Clara had noticed Lycia was the only one who seemed honestly amused by Nihlus' stick-up-the-ass personality. Maybe she spent so much time with him she got used to it, or maybe she was honestly just that nice, but Clara didn't know how she did it either way.
"How do you deal with him?" Clara asked, honestly curious.
"What do you mean?" Lycia asked as she led her back into the main room, eyes automatically falling on the energy levels. "He's the commanding officer, everyone has to deal with him."
"No, I mean, how do you deal with his personality?" Clara clarified. "He's not exactly sunshine and roses. He acts like someone pissed in his coffee."
She realized a moment later, as Lycia continued looking at her with a confused stare, that her idioms were probably the least-appropriate way to talk to any alien race, especially when their main method of communication was through translators. Clara sighed, "I mean. He doesn't have the most personable personality."
The turian shrugged, running her palm over the back of her head. "I mean, I've been on the Actium since Nihlus was first inducted into the Spectres. I remember when he went on his first mission for the Council. So, yeah, he's changed, but I know he's still doing what he came here to do. He's making a difference. He's fighting for something, which is more than what a lot of people do."
"Isn't he one of the Council's most decorated agents or something prestigious like that?" Clara asked curiously, leaning against the wall.
"No one else really comes close, except Saren," Lycia agreed, mirroring Clara's casual posture. "He's never gone longer than a week without going on some sort of mission for the Council. This strike against Cerberus is his longest battle yet."
There was something in Lycia's face when she said that, something that made Clara pause. She eyed the turian carefully, her brow wrinkling slightly as she tried to figure out what it is. "Do you think he can do it?" she asked, pushing her hair back from her face.
"What do you mean?" Lycia asked. Clara shrugged.
"I mean, do you think he can take down Cerberus?" she clarified, shrugging again as she tried to word what she wanted to say. "I mean. Cerberus is huge. They've got their fingers in so many pies I'm amazed it isn't coming out of their numerous ears. They're like, kind of untouchable. I mean, he's been working his ass off for months trying to find intel, any sort of information about who and where they are, and I'm the closest thing to a lead he has. He can smack down sector after sector, but they always come back. Do you think we can beat something like that? Something that just grows back its hand after you cut it off?"
Lycia, for once, wasn't all smiles and sunshine. It was the thing that Clara liked about the turian, how she always managed to smile and just push all the negative emotions aside to pave way for the good. This wasn't that Lycia though – she looked worried. It almost made her regret saying anything at all.
"Just because it's going to hard doesn't mean it isn't something worth doing," she murmured. "Nihlus is doing a good thing here. The Alliance isn't dealing with their mess, the salarians don't really care as long as Cerberus keeps its nose away from the STG, and the asari are so busy keeping their noses out of it that they just…stop caring about everything that isn't political stability. The Hierarchy seems to be the only group that cares about bringing them down. Yeah, we're following the Council's orders, but it's Spartatus that's really pulling the strings behind the whole investigation. We're the only people out here actively tracking them down, actively trying to stop them before they go too far. We may not be able to end them, and maybe they will bounce right back, but at least we're doing the right thing."
Clara was struck silent for a long moment, watching as Lycia turned to her numbers and started running through calibrations. She wasn't sure what to say – she wasn't even sure what she was hoping to accomplish with this whole conversation. She wasn't sure of a lot of things, any more.
"I don't want you getting the wrong idea," she said, making Lycia's hand pause. "I want to be here. And I want this to work out – I need this to work out. I just." She sighed heavily, pulling her hair from it's band to run her hand through it. There was no easy way to word what she was going through.
She knew Cerberus was going to fall – or, she at least knew that the Illusive Man would wind up on the wrong side of Commander Shepard's pistol. She knew that Cerberus was going to escape the Reaper War in little more than ruins. But that was almost a decade from now. In that world, Nihlus never lived to see his mission come true; she wasn't even sure he would now.
"How much is enough?" She asked. Lycia looked at her for a long moment, hands hovering over her calibrations.
"I'm in this fight until the end," she finally said, mandibles tense against her face. "There is nothing else. I'll fight with Nihlus until the end, his or mine."
Clara had the horrible, gut wrenching feeling that that was how things were going to happen. She just wished she had the power to change that.
...
A/N: Yay more character insight! I'm trying not to have Clara dwell on the Tito thing, but, that is her motivating factor. That's what's getting her forward. Her only thing keeping her going is the idea that Aetius is going to be okay, that she can save him. And maybe she has a savior complex. She probably also has a bit of a god complex, though that remains to be seen.
But seriously. She has the power to change the universe. How would that NOT give someone a god complex?
Anyway. Hope you enjoyed - we're almost to the end of Act I!
Lots of Love;
B.E. Nomads