Chapter Nine:
Nihlus spent three days going over the information salvaged from the Blue Suns outpost; three days, locked away in his quarters, doing nothing but researching and planning. Even Boreas looked disconcerted by his sudden shut-in. As for Clara, she was just grateful for the lull in training. And for advanced medical technology. She was discharged after 2 and a half days, under the promise that she not strain herself. Her shoulder kept her from performing any heavy tasks, but Lycia didn't let that stop her from running Clara ragged mentally. She was even doing calibrations in her sleep.
(A curious part of her wondered if Garrus suffered the same issues with the Thanix canons. She made note to ask him when she got the chance.)
When Clara finally saw Nihlus again he looked defeated, but determined. He stopped by her console and though Clara had already turned to face him, he made no move to speak. She waited a moment, before hesitantly asking: "Nihlus?"
He met her gaze, as if he only just realized she were there. He nodded. "Clara. I have an assignment for you."
Clara hesitated. "Sir?"
"I need you to infiltrate the Cerberus outpost," He said sharply. "On your own."
To her surprise, it was Lycia who spoke next, jumping into the conversation even though Clara hadn't even known she was listening in. "You can't send her on her own!" She protested. "Her shoulder is still healing, she even tries to fire a weapon and she'll tear it open again. Clara did well last drop – excellent, really – but she hasn't had enough practice. You're going to get her killed."
"I'm aware of the risks," Nihlus responded, and for a moment he sounded much older than he really was. He sounded tired. "We have no other choice. Cerberus security is too air-tight. Clara is the only one on the ship that can walk around unnoticed."
Lycia looked as if she wanted to argue, but Clara stepped in: "What do you need me to do?" she demanded.
The engineer stiffened, looked as if she wanted to protest further, but Astyanax's hand on her shoulder pulled her back. Nihlus hesitated again before explaining. "All we need you to do is get onto the ship and scramble their shields and weapons systems. It will give us the chance to land the shuttle, get in, and start the sweep for information. While the information is downloading, Meriones and Creion will leave formation to offer you fire support and return you to the shuttle. We reconvene there and escape back to the Actium."
The plan sounded solid, but she didn't like it. There were a thousand ways this could go wrong. One mistake could kill the whole squad. But the prevalent thought in her mind was Tito. This could be the outpost, the people who knew the cure, the thing she needed above all else. She couldn't let the chance go, even as slim as it was.
Nihlus seemed to take her silence as hesitance. He elaborated, looking for once like the turian who cared about his crew and not the ass who had made her cry all those months ago. "This is asking a lot – there is a chance that you wont come back. But any other plan risks no one coming back."
"I'll do it," she interrupted, before he could continue. "As long as you promise to get what Tito needs. That's what matters."
Nihlus gave a short nod. "We are 12 hours from the station. Get some rest and prepare for the drop. Lycia will calibrate your omni-tool and Creion will outfit you appropriately."
He was gone before she could respond, the affirmative caught in her throat. She looked at her mentor, looking for what she didn't know, but Lycia kept her eyes stubbornly on her console.
…
12 hours had never passed so quickly before. She used her time well. A quick nap turned into a deep sleep that left her feeling alert and aware. Before stopping by engineering or the armory, she headed to the med bay. As expected, Peleus was sitting behind his desk, eyes intent on his screen.
"Peleus?" She asked. He looked up at her.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, looking at her shoulder pointedly. She shook her head.
"No, no, I'm fine. I'm just hoping you could look at my shoulder, make sure it's okay for the drop," she asked.
"For the suicide mission, you mean," he countered, and though his tone completely disapproved of her actions, he stood and motioned her further in. She stepped in, pulling off her shirt as she leaned against the bed. He looked over her shoulder, fingers tenderly pressing against the bruised and broken flesh. She was quiet, not sure that there was anything left to say.
"You do realize that this mission could kill you." Peleus stated. Though it was intended as a question, something to reassure himself that she was aware of the risks, they both knew the answer already.
Clara offered a wry smile. "Is that your professional opinion?" She asked.
"It's a common sense opinion," he retorted. "You've been training on ship for only 6 weeks now. No one becomes an infiltrator in that time – especially not one capable enough to infiltrate Cerberus."
It wasn't an insult – it was a fact. Clara didn't let it bother her. "I'm the only person on ship who can walk into the outpost without people shooting me on sight. I have no other choice."
"You know just as well as I that Nihlus can think of another plan," he said, stepping back. "Your shoulder is healing as expected. Not enough for me to recommend you go on the mission, but we both know you aren't going to listen to me."
She pulled on her shirt as she said, "Every other option leaves us vulnerable. We need information – we could blow the outpost sky high if we really wanted, but then we lose our leads. I'm the only human on ship. It has to be me."
Peleus watched her with his strange, blue-white eyes. She ran her fingers through her hair, so much longer than she'd ever worn it before, and pressed her palms to her eyes in an attempt to wipe away the stress.
"How much longer till we reach the outpost?" She asked, letting her hands fall to her sides as she looked up at him.
"Approximately 3 hours," he responded. "Lycia is waiting for you in engineering. She isn't happy with you."
She sighed and straightened, murmuring a thanks as she escaped from his damn stare. If anyone on this ship made her feel like an idiot, it was Peleus. Normally she didn't mind, but today…she knew he was right. It just made it all so much worse. As she made to enter engineering, the young soldier Atrides was making his way out. "Whoa, you aren't planning on going in there, are you?"
"I don't really have another choice," Clara sighed, scratching the back of her neck. "I'm on the mission. We're updating my omni-tool."
Atrides fixed her with a decidedly sympathetic look. "I almost feel sorry for you. Lycia looks like she'll snap your plates in half." He paused awkwardly, "Uh, not that you have plates. Your...skin?"
"I think you mean bones," she said dryly. "You don't know much about humans, do you?"
He shook his head. "No, no. Never really met one before you, actually. At least, not one that wasn't trying to kill me. I'm surprised your species managed to survive the Relay 314 event. You're so...soft."
Clara rolled her eyes, "Not as much as you turians like to think. Anyway. I've gotta go harass Lycia. You may want to get out of blast-radius."
Atrides laughed shakily, rubbing his hand over his fringe. "Right, right. Have fun in there."
"I wont," she retorted as he walked away. She sighed and braced herself anew for whatever awaited her through the door.
Lycia was waiting for her by her usual console, hip pressed to the side and arms crossed over her chest. She looked pissed, but it was clear she didn't want to talk about it. She held out her hand, palm up, waiting. Clara offered the woman her omni-tool. There was a long minute of quiet as Lycia worked on the omni-tool, upgrading her hacking program and making sure that everything functioned at peak-efficiency. Clara thought Lycia wasn't going to say anything at all.
"I don't want you doing this stupid mission," the engineer snapped, pushing the updated omni-tool back into Clara's arms. "You're going to get yourself hurt."
"Meriones and Creion will have my back," she said blithely, sliding the hardware back on her wrist and clicking it into place.
Lycia's voice was sharp, as she snapped at her. "No, they wont. Not until hell already breaks loose. You're going into the fire and expecting not to burn."
"If I was religious I would give you a sermon about walking into fire and not burning," Clara retorted. "But I never listened in Sunday school."
Lycia's mandibles fluttered angrily, and even she could hear the low growl of irritation that reverberated in her throat. "Go see Creion. Maybe he can keep your ass alive."
Clara didn't need telling twice – Lycia had never been this upset before, had never outright snapped at her. Hell, she never snapped at anyone – she was like the mother on board, kind and nice and caring and always there. Except for now, it seemed.
Or especially, her mind whispered, and guilt began to gnaw at her gut. It was too late to turn back, though. She was already standing in the cargo hold, Creion hovering near the weapons rack. He glanced up when she headed towards him, and he looked…the same as ever. Stoic.
"Nihlus says you're doing an infiltration," he said. "You're gonna need some new weapons. Let me see your omni-tool."
She obliged, pulling off the device and passing it to him. "Lycia just updated it," she said.
"I'm adding an incinerate," he explained. She watched curiously as he toyed with her omni-tool, hands more steady than she had anticipated. She should have known better – he was the resident weapons expert, bar Nihlus, and she knew that required its own kind of precision. He handed the hardware back. "You can activate it here. It has an 8 second recharge time, so be careful."
"Thank you," she said. He didn't respond, instead just pulling some other weapons from the shelf. Her stomach twisted. She didn't really know weapons, not as well as she should have, but she remembered these from Creion's initial lessons. "The HMWP?" She asked.
"Nihlus requested you have the best weapons available for this specific mission, considering you're going to be on your own for a good portion of the fight until we can get you backup" he explained. "You'll get off about 29 shots before it overheats. You're also going to need this."
He pulled out the HMWSR and her heart stuttered again. Creion continued, "You've got two solid shots before overheat. It's modded specifically for stealth – lightweight, compact. You'll barely feel it on your back. From what Nihlus said about the outpost, there are a good handful of military personnel, so you should blend for a little while."
He set the weapons on the bench again, gleaming and ready for action, and then pulled open her locker. Her armor was again repainted, and the hole in the shoulder repaired. "We fixed your armor as best as we could on short notice, but we've also redirected some of your systems to shields. There should be plenty of medigel packets in the station as is. Your shields will last longer than they did with the Blue Suns, but that doesn't mean you should risk exposure. Keep in cover, keep the data safe, and stay alive. No one wants to see you come back dead."
"I don't know, Nestor seems like he'll be fine with that scenario," she quipped, her voice not as light hearted as she had intended.
"Then let me reiterate: I don't want to see you come back dead. And neither does Lycia. We both think this is a suicide run on your part."
Clara sighed, rubbing her temples. "Can we not go over this again? I've made my choice. I'm going."
"If you're going to prove yourself then you're stupid," Creion retorted. "You're new, you're young, and you don't need to run headlong into your death just because Nihlus says to. Nihlus is wrong sometimes. We can do without this information, we can find another lead."
Clara reminded herself that he didn't know what was going on, that he didn't know Aetius was laying dying in a hospital and that she was the only one searching for the cure. He didn't know anything, and he didn't know what this meant. She just kept her mouth shut. After a long moment he sighed, and accepted she wasn't going to change her mind.
"Go eat," he demanded. "Nihlus wants to go over the plan one more time before we drop."
…
The moment Clara stepped from the shuttle and onto the station, she felt as if she had walked into hell itself. People were around, all dressed in the same white and orange ensemble, and here she was: parading around as if she were one of them. The door to the shuttle slid shut behind her and Ajax took off, returning to the distant Actium to prepare for the second landing. Clara used a moment to steady her breath, masking her worry with a very casual check of her messages, before steadying herself and stepping forward.
No one looked at her. No one noticed her. She was just another face in the crowd.
She stepped into the restroom, escaping view of any unwanted eyes, and activated her tactical cloak. She had 30 seconds.
She darted from the room, keeping her steps light as she stepped up to the security checkpoint. She kneeled by the console, deft fingers sliding over the screen before she jimmied her omni-tool into place. 10 seconds.
There was a small ding, indicating her success, and an instant later the weapons scanners and ID station shut down. She used the last five seconds of her cloak to dart through the procession, avoiding security and coming out on the other side. She barely had time to hide behind a pillar before the cloak shut off and she reappeared. She calmed her breathing, forcing herself to mellow as she stepped into sight and made her way through the station.
Her comm. crackled and Nihlus' voice piped into her ear: "Did you plant the bug?"
Her lips barely moved as she responded, "Just placed it. The layout should start downloading in a few seconds."
There was a pause, and an instant later her omni-tool beeped and alerted her of the new message: From Lycia. She opened it, smiling slightly when the layout for the station filtered through.
"We got it on our end," Nihlus said.
"Same," she agreed, "I'm heading to the terminal now."
Nihlus never responded as she followed the path laid out to her by the ships VI, with the aid of Lycia. She was glad that, even as upset as Lycia was with her, she was still willing to help.
No one noticed her – or at least, no one noticed she didn't belong there. She walked through the crowds, blending in with the herd and keeping her senses on high alert. Things were going well, too well, and she could feel her nerves boiling under the surface.
"You're heart rate spiked, what's going on down there?" Nihlus asked, his voice sharp.
"Well, I'm walking around one of the homes of the people who tried to kill my boyfriend, I'm feeling a little tense," She hissed out.
He offered no apology and she didn't ask for one – she just had a few more meters to go, just a few more hallways until she was at the information hub and then all she had to do was download the information, wait for the distraction, and escape. That was it. Just a little more.
"I've reached the hub," she murmured, stepping into a large cavern of a room, lined with computers and only a smattering of personnel. She could see the door – the room that held the head of this sectors information. Their computer would hold everything. It was a veritable gold-mine.
In front of the door was a span of empty space – no cover, no way to hide.
"We'll dock in 30 seconds," Nihlus told her. "Wait for the alarms."
She held her breath, her heart hammering away anxiously in her chest as she counted down. It was quite possibly the longest 30 seconds of her life before finally, alarms rang. The few soldiers that were in the room straightened and ran, heading to their posts. She activated her cloak and dashed across the room, the countdown ringing in her head, and five seconds to spare found her hacking the door open. It closed behind her, just as the cloak vanished, and the man behind the desk spun around to see who dared to interrupt him. Her pistol put a bullet in his throat before he could open his mouth. She winced – she'd aimed for his head, to make it quick and clean.
"Sorry," she murmured, her stomach churning as she pushed his chair aside and hunkered down at the desk. "Okay, I'm at the terminal, hacking the information now. How long until you reach me?"
There was a moments hesitation before Nihlus responded. "Creion and Meriones are carving a path your way as we speak."
The thought of the team splitting up made her stomach clench awkwardly. Nihlus could protect himself (from everyone except Saren, it seemed) and she knew, in her gut, that he would get through in one piece. He had to, and he wasn't alone - he had Atrides and Boreas at his side. But Creion and Meriones…
She kept her eyes focused on only two things – the information download, and the door. She hadn't locked it behind her, hadn't had the time, and now she was worried someone would come through and-
There was a soft whirr, the only warning of the door sliding open, and Clara knew it was too soon for it to be anyone good. She slid from view, hiding behind the desk and listening to the clink of high heels as someone entered the room. She held her breath, getting a glimpse of white and black uniform in the window before she spun around, pistol aimed and firing before she even checked to see who it was.
A biotic barrier flared, deflecting the shot, and Clara felt her stomach bottom out as familiar grey eyes stared back at her.
"Shit," she whispered as she stared into the perfect face of a 29 year old Miranda Lawson. Her outfit was similar to what she saw in the game, the same white and black cat suit that made her figure her most noticeable attribute. It appeared to be of a different texture, however – smooth metal, not quite as malleable.
Clara's mind flashed back to an article she read about armor curving with the shape of a woman chest, something how it would actually lead to more severe injuries if it was hit just the wrong way, and wondered if that lead to her change her outfit. The black and white catsuit from Mass Effect 2 was nicer, either way.
"Look who we have here," Miranda said, her Australian accent exactly the same as she remembered. "Someone's poking their nose where it doesn't belong."
"Well, you stepped on the wrong persons toes," Clara retorted with false bravado as she slowly stood, pistol still aimed at the operatives head. "I don't want to hurt you."
Miranda quirked a brow, amused. "You're injured. You think you can hurt me?"
"Clara, do not engage!" Nihlus snapped in her ear, and Clara realized he could hear her side of the conversation. "Your back up is near by, just hold off!"
"I think that if I land just the right shot, your armor will do all the damage for me," she retorted, ignoring Nihlus' voice. Miranda laughed.
"Smart. Unfortunately for you looks can be deceiving. You'd have to get past my shields either way," She leveled her pistol at Clara. "What are you looking for?"
"The Wizard of Oz," she retorted dryly. "I hear this is the place to find him. I hear he's one of a kind."
"Funny," Miranda said, clearly not amused. "I'll ask you again. What do you want?"
Clara swallowed – she had to keep her talking, had to keep her from firing, from realizing that she was in no shape to fight, and god dammit where were Creion and Meriones? Could they even handle themselves against the perfection that was Miranda? She seemed so…impenetrable. So strong.
"I'll tell you what I want," she said, trying to keep her tone level. "What I really really want."
She was silent for a moment, and Miranda narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Yes?" She snapped.
Clara wet her lips, and this time she couldn't help the quirk of her lips as she responded. "I really, really, really want...a zigga zig ah."
There was a long moment of silence, in which Miranda stared at her incredulously, her mouth hanging open only slightly – some may not have noticed it, but considering Clara did know her it was obvious – even if she had seen her just through the eyes of Shepard.
"Did you just quote the Spice Girls at me?" Miranda demanded. Clara was surprised – they still listened to the Spice Girls 160 years in the future? She hadn't expected that.
"What can I say, their lyrics really speak to me," she said. Her levity left her and she said seriously, "I'm not telling you what I want, because you wouldn't understand. Standing here, protecting an organization that kills without thought – takes lives in the name of science. You know nothing of right and wrong."
"So that's what this is?" Miranda cut in, "Some scheme for revenge. We aren't the people the Council wants you to think. We're trying to help humanity."
"Right, and if you kill people in droves it's just part of the mission, part of the greater good," Clara retorted. "The end justifies the means?"
"I don't know where you're getting your information from, but it's wrong," Miranda said shortly. "All we want to do is make a place for humanity. Sometimes that involves stepping on other peoples toes. It's business."
"Sounds like a shitty business."
The operative's face settled into a firm mask of displeasure and her posture firmed. "I can see there will be no civil conversation with you. I was going to offer you a deal, let you leave alive, but it's very clear you aren't going to cooperate. Now, I'm just going to kill you, and just see what you were looking for with my own two eyes."
Clara's heart stopped.
Miranda pulled the trigger.
Clara dove under the desk, the shot clipping her shields, and again she was suddenly and intensely grateful for Nihlus' training. Without that she had no doubt Miranda would have very gladly put a bullet in her brain. Her shoulder smashed into the chair on the way down and even through the armor she felt the stinging pain.
Don't think about it, she thought, keeping her eyes glued to Miranda's reflection as she slowly moved around the desk. Clara inched away slowly, mirroring the biotics steps and keeping the lone cover between them. Miranda turned the corner and Clara popped up, firing unrepentantly. Miranda's shield broke under fire, slugs clipping her body but leaving no serious damage. Clara was not so lucky. The fourth shot bypassed her shields and slammed into what was, up until that moment, her good shoulder. Though shot didn't break through the metal of her armor it still sent her stumbling back. She rolled out of the way, and their roles where suddenly reversed. Her back was to the door, and with a sudden curse she realized Miranda was by the computer and the OSD was still downloading away.
She didn't think, she didn't have time. She jumped up, pistol firing shot after unrepentant shot. Miranda gladly retaliated in kind. Five shots, two to break through the biotics shields, one to weaken her barrier, and one to slam into Miranda's perfect bicep. Clara's shields hadn't recharged, lingering on the low end of the spectrum, and she forced herself to soldier on as the bullets left waves of fire in their wake.
Miranda took cover first, and Clara moved forward through the pain. She yanked the OSD from the port, clutching it in her hand as she turned and bolted from the room. Miranda fired after her, shots clipping her armor and sending threatening vibrations through the suit. The door slid shut, buying Clara reprieve from the onslaught. She had no choice but to dart back into the halls, but lucked seemed to be on her side.
"Meriones!" she gasped thankfully as the dark-plated turian scrambled around the corner, Creion close behind.
"Clara!" her roommate called. She made to speak, but Clara didn't let her, running towards them full speed with no plans of stopping.
"No time, need to get to the shuttle!" she yelled as she passed them. They didn't ask questions, turning on a dime and following her lead. Meriones guarded their backs while Creion kept a hand to Clara's back, ushering forward. Her calves burned, and she wasn't sure if it was from the exertion or if Miranda had shot her.
They passed endless crops of bodies, all decked in Cerberus uniforms. She heard return fire at her back and cursed – Miranda had followed after them.
"Warp!" Meriones barked, and Creion slammed his body against her and forced her out of the way of the biotic attack. It whirled past them as Clara's body slammed to the wall. She cried out in pain, her shoulder screaming in protest, but she didn't have time to let her thoughts linger. A second later Creion was pulling her back and forcing her into another run.
Peleus was going to have a field day when they got back. If they got back, a traitorous voice whispered.
The stretch back to the docking bay was easily the longest run of her life. Finally, the shuttle came into view, Nihlus and Boreas and Atrides were making their way back on the other side of the room. She allowed the barest sliver of relief; they were going to make it!
Another shot, this one not from her allies, and a burst of fire sparked in her back. Her knee gave out as pain shrouded her mind, and only Creion's watchful hands kept her from falling to the ground. He hefted her up into his arms, only succeeding in emphasizing the pain that littered her body – she vaguely realized she had torn open her shoulder wound.
Creion offered her body up to Peleus, who must have boarded with the others for the return drop as emergency medical. Creion and Meriones – both relatively unharmed – jumped in after.
"I'm doping her up now," Peleus barked, quick hands undoing the latches of her armor to inspect the wounds. His face looked less than pleased.
"I have the information," Clara said as the needle pricked her skin. The sedative took root in her blood almost immediately, her next words coming out in a slur. "The OSD-"
Nihlus' face swam into view – and did he look concerned? She reached up, pressing the drive into his hand. "Take it. Might help Tito."
She vaguely heard the sound of the shuttle taking off, vaguely felt Peleus' skillful hands as they staunched the bloodflow from the more grievous wounds. She could hear voices, but she couldn't understand. Finally, reality began to fade and her eyes drifted closed, Peleus' strange eyes gleaming overhead.
...
The beeping of a heart monitor kept her awake, echoing in her ears until she forced herself up. Sorthem stood over her, checking various bags of fluids filled with god knew what. He blinked down at her when he realized she was awake.
"Ah, good to see you're alive," he said. "I was afraid the blood loss was too severe."
"What can I say, I'm stubborn," she rasped.
Sorthem offered her a drink and she accepted it gladly. "Yes, very stubborn," he agreed. "Fortunately, this is also what kept you alive. That and my superior medical abilities."
"Any chance your superior medical abilities can tell me how bad it is?" she countered. Sorthem was unfazed, nodding as he answered.
"You were shot several times," he said, and she resisted the urge to go 'No shit, Sherlock'. "And you succeeded in tearing open your shoulder again. Your arm will likely never be the same. Your main injury was on your back – single bullet, missed severing your spine but punctured your lung and came through on other side. You suffered several other minor bullet wounds. Your armor will need to be totally scrapped and replaced. The damage is…extensive."
Clara exhaled slowly, unaware that she was even holding her breath. The sound of the door opening caught her attention, and then the familiar voice asked: "If you're done explaining how close to dead she was, I would like a word."
"Of course, Kryik," Sorthem agreed, stepping away. "I will be in my office."
The medic left, and Clara watched as Nihlus stepped forward, taking the salarians place by her bed. There was a pregnant pause. For a long moment, Clara thought he wasn't going to say anything at all.
"You did well," he said finally. "The outpost held valuable information – we know at least five other outposts. We have plans in motion to successfully neutralize their actions. We…I, owe you my thanks."
Clara swallowed down her shock, forcing herself to say dryly, "Well, glad to know my punctured lung wasn't for nothing."
Nihlus hesitated, his mandibles fluttering. "There was nothing regarding a poison made specifically for turians. But, we do have the names of two science outposts. They may have what you want."
Clara sighed, turning her head to hide the disappointment on her face. "I expected as much. Nothing is ever easy."
"I…also wanted to apologize."
Clara's head snapped over, her dark eyes staring at him incredulously. "What?"
Nihlus' mandibles fluttered, in either irritation or embarrassment she couldn't tell. She doubted 'embarrassed' was even in his vocabulary, so she settled on irritation. "I was wrong about you. I…misjudged you. And for that I am sorry. Your willingness to sacrifice yourself is admirable, if not foolish."
"Says the one who leaves formation on a regular basis," she retorted. She met his gaze head on, channeling as much intensity as she could into it. Considering she was still doped up, she doubted it was effective. "You're going to get yourself killed."
"I'm not the one laying in the med bay twice in one week," he countered.
"I'm laying here because it was the right thing to do," she argued. She sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Look. I get it. You move faster on your own. And sometimes that's great. But sometimes the situation requires you have back up. Just, think about that in the future. Please. People here need you."
He looked at her for a while, and she prayed that he picked up on her not-even-slightly subtle hint. Because, even though Nihlus was a massive asshole to her, and even though he was the source behind a lot of emotional issues her first few months on the Citadel, he was needed. If not by Shepard, then by his crew. By Meriones and Creion and Lycia and-
The door slid open mid thought, the small engineer charging in with a pinched expression. She didn't spare Nihlus a look, and though her attention was focused on Clara it didn't feel like her anger was placed on her. Clara swallowed – ah. That meant she was irritated with Nihlus.
"You're an idiot," Lycia said sharply. "And I'm glad you're alive."
Clara smiled wryly, "Thanks. I'm glad I'm alive too."
Nihlus looked decidedly uncomfortable, shuffling his weight before finally saying, "I have matters to attend to. Rest. We wont go on a Cerberus mission for at least a month."
Lycia turned her ire on him, eyes alight with anger. "A month? Clara is going to need well more than a month to heal!"
"I asked Sorthem and Peleus for their medical opinion, and a month was the minimum time frame they gave her before being returned to active duty," Nihlus explained, keeping his voice level. "We need Clara. She's the only one who can get into the Cerberus bases without immediate detection."
Clara had never been more glad she'd decided to wear a helmet on the drop – otherwise, she was certain her face would be plastered all throughout the Cerberus base with a giant 'WANTED' stamped at the bottom. All Miranda knew was her face from the lips down and her voice. Surely that wasn't enough?
"Screw immediate detection, we should be blowing each base we find sky high without question!" Lycia argued.
"If we do that, we have no way to find other bases unless we have a stroke of dumb luck! This is the biggest break we've had in months, Lycia, we can't let it slip away now!"
Lycia bristled in agitation, turning to shun her commanding officer and fixing Clara with the softest look she could, considering her anger. "Rest as long as you need, Clara. We won't do anything stupid without you."
Clara made to respond, but Lycia turned and disappeared nearly as quickly as she had appeared. Nihlus floundered for a moment, not sure if he should chase down the engineer or stay and finish his conversation with Clara. She watched, amused, and with a heavy sigh Nihlus bade his farewell. She figured Nihlus was just having an off day – being nice to two people right after the other? Totally out of character.
...
A/N: Okay. This is the longest chapter yet. Next chapter we have ACT TWO. (Whoooo).
I'm ending it here because this is the kind of major first step into Clara actually, fully developing into the her she's destined to be. The next chapter is going to take place in about a 9 month time skip (give or take), and you'll notice that Clara has changed quite a bit. Maybe not overtly, but, there is a definite shift in her mental place. Everything will be explained, but, this story just covers such a huge span of information that it doesn't feel right just to placate you with drop missions that have the same basic plot, the same basic goal, the same basic...everything.
So, hope you enjoyed the first act! I'm excited to see how you react to Act Two (:
Lot's of Love;
B.E. Nomads
P.S. I know I said that Causation was gonna be on hiatus for NaNoWriMo, but I figured I'd give you a chapter with more closure. Next update should be around December 1.