thisavrou_log | Someone's gonna get hurt

Entry tags:

Someone's gonna get hurt

Who: Commander Shepard (

squadgoals) & Nihlus Kryik (

beautifulspaceraptor)
When: Post-Thane chat
Where: Mero Deck #013
What: Shep found out about the Clone stuff. Shep also found out that Nihlus already knew. Now it's time to find out why she didn't find it out from him.
Warnings: Swearing, probably. Maybe violence.

[She'd intended to send a message, first. "Nihlus, we need to talk", or "Nihlus, can you meet me in observation?", something like that. But instead, she'd stayed in her room, feeding her fish, folding up some loose laundry, until she knew he'd be in his room, alone.

It was only a few doors down, but the walk seemed longer, stretched by her own tense air. Keeping her steps purposefully light, she stops in front of Mero #013, and tries to look at the big picture. His motives are understandable. Hell, so were the clone's. She's just here to talk. Two adults, having a conversation about...

Well. Lies.

It was hard to unfocus from that one. Without giving herself further time to reflect, she raps on the door instead of ringing the bell, three business-like knocks. There's a pause before she announces to the door:]

Nihlus? It's Shepard. You around?

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[ Setting down the damp cloth, Nihlus takes a good moment to just... stare at himself in the omni-tool's vidscreen that he'd been using as a mirror. He runs his fingers over the freshly bared scars and then the tell-tale fading of pigmentation that was starting to turns his nose a slightly lighter gray-brown than the rest of his face.

One year. One year and a lot of very unsound decisions.

Spirits.

Sighing quietly, Nihlus starts setting up the paints when a knock on the door makes him pause- and the voice. Shepard. Something about her tone...

A sudden lead-heavy feeling of dread settles over him, but he brushes it aside with quiet resignation and pushes off of the bed. Realizing his face didn't have paint anymore makes him hesitate though. ]

I-

[ Of all the people to come knocking when he's got his markings stripped. He presses the heel of his palm to his face and hangs there for another second before making himself move.

Fuck it. He's already made a mess of things.

The doors slide open, revealing the man in sweats and a loose Turian tank-top of sorts, one of the straps sliding haphazardly off his shoulder.

And, well. He's also currently barefaced. ]

Shepard. [ It's supposed to be marginally formal sounding. Neutral. Mostly, he just ends up being distant and vaguely awkward. ] Did something happen?

You could say that. [Her voice drops into a tone that's not quite cynicism, but certainly deeper than neutral. Pursing her lips, she scans Nihlus' face, eyebrows raising slightly at the realization: bald-faced.

The irony of the shared Turian and Human idiom made solid for this conversation was not lost on her.]

Mind if I come in?

[ The brow raising makes Nihlus' neck turn blue and he averts his eyes. There's another moment of hesitation at her request before he quietly steps aside. ]

Not at all. [ That tone is definitely directed at him. 100%. ] Sorry about the mess.

[ The room was barely used to the point where there wasn't actually much of a mess to speak of, asides from a few stray pieces of sketch paper here and there. Nihlus still moves to tidy it up, if only for the sake of soothing his nerves.

There's a very, very long list of things that could've potentially have pissed Shepard off, especially considering the recent... events. ]

[For a moment, it seems he might say no. But then he's stepping aside, and she's stepping in. As the door slides shut, and Nihlus collects his "mess", Shepard surveys the bare room, taking in the details. For all their conversations and meetings, she'd never stepped a foot in her would-be mentor's barracks. Why would she?

Talk about a reverse of the last time we were in a bedroom together alone, the sudden sour thought drifts up, unbidden. Biting back a change of expression, she pulls out the simple chair from the desk (holding painting kit upkeep varietal), and turns it around to sit on. It would stop her from pacing, in any case.

When Nihlus finishes, returning his attention to her, Shepard takes a slow breath through her nose — in, out — and begins.]

I'll cut right to it, and I'm only going to ask this once — you get one chance.

Are there any secrets that might be of serious importance to me that you've been keeping to yourself, Nihlus?

[In no mood for small talk, it's intentionally phrased, and purposefully vague. Of course there's secrets — god knows she's got more than a few herself — but this put the ball in his court, instead of beating around the bush, chasing after vagueries. And in light of the clone, who knew how many other things she's stupidly missed.]

Edited 2016-10-23 20:13 (UTC)

[ The tap-tap of Nihlus straightening out his papers stops and silence rushes into the space between them. Slowly, he sets the papers down and turns to face Shepard, leaning against his drawer.

The list of secrets he was keeping with relevant information in relation to her was comparatively short. There was the research he'd done into Saren's past. There was the dossiers he has for three different Shepards.

And finally, there was her clone.

Considering the fact that only one of those secrets was walking around with an impressively terrible set of acting skills, Nihlus can take a guess as to which one Shepard found out about. Still, there was the off-chance that she'd learned about either of the first two through one of the local mind-readers and wasn't that a pleasant thought?

She's not an enemy, Kryik, a quiet little voice pipes up from the back of his mind. And he stops.

When he finally does speak, the man's voice is quiet. ]

... Yes.

[ Not an enemy, but 'ally' was still a very messy category for him the answer is intentionally vague in return. What secret did she know for sure and how much should he reveal? ]

[Yes, what? She barely manages to stop herself from clenching her jaw in a flare of anger. Instead, she nods once, tersely.]

That's a start.

[Crossing her legs, she keeps her hands open, palms down, on top of them, fixing Nihlus with a flinty stare. The whole thing had a familiar, upsetting feeling. What was it with people and keeping vitally important information from her? She largely suspected that most people were hoping she'd die or disappear before she found anything out, a wish she'd, happily, been terrible at fulfilling.]

Feel free to expand.

[ Nihlus's expression closes off. He mentally reviews the past months (year, really), checking for possible events that might've given the clone away.

And it IS the clone, he's quite sure of that. The emotional reaction didn't line up with the other potentials.

The only problem was that there were plenty of ways for her to have found out: this operation had security holes in the size of an Elcor. The clone had just been relying on Shepard to trust. Nihlus had been relying on Shepard to trust. He never dared to think it'd hold out, but the clone... deserved a chance to make her own choice.

He closes his eyes. ]

Which specific one is this about, Shepard?

[That stung.

This time, she does grit her teeth, jaws locking together — a blessing, really, stopping her from yelling, or speaking at all.

So this is how Spectres do it, huh?

Shepard stares, unblinkingly, at Nihlus for a solid half-minute before she takes another long breath in, through her nose, letting her jaw unclench as she breathes out. When she answers, her voice is surprisingly even, humorless. She even stays seated.]

I'm not playing your games, Nihlus. If there's more than one, now's your chance. Far as I know, we're on the same team.

[Or I thought we were. It's all she can do to bite it back, say it to herself, not out loud. The acrid, vitriolic backwash of his comment is already pounding in her head, and she hates it, hates it for affecting her at all.]

That's not how things work.

[ Tell Shepard and he loses the clone's trust. Don't tell Shepard and he loses hers. This wasn't the same stakes as the game with Rinzler, not as clear-cut. Nowhere near as dangerous.

Just... more personal.

It made it difficult to see the outcomes of pulling each string, but he knows them to a certain extent: betraying the clone's trust was going to take a lot longer to repair. Pushing her out into the spotlight before she was ready could cause a greater instability than... well.

Than keeping Shepard in the dark.

It's a lot of effort for an endgame he couldn't really predict. The clone could still grow up into someone vicious and hard and no amount of calculated kindness would change it.

But she was just a child and one who'd already paid a very steep price for existing. Nihlus on the other hand? Nihlus just had the trust of a colleague to lose.

He's already lied to Tali. ]

I'm not playing any games. Tell me what you want to know or leave, Shepard.

[ There's nothing in his tones but a quiet and cold distance. ]

[This time, she looks up, giving him a long, hard, searching look.

The first time, his refusal didn't make sense. Had she misspoken? Misstated her intent? The second...

His voice is as far away as if they were talking to each other in different rooms — and he certainly wasn't talking to her.

The anger is at full swing, now, searing her nerves with an itchy feeling to move, run, attack, and it's all she can do to tamp down on it, and ask, voice low and quiet:]

Why are you protecting her?

[ Dammit. Dammit. ]

We've both seen the results of the call-out posts on the Network. Reckless dissemination of information that's endangered a lot of crew members. Most of the resulting conflicts are still unresolved.

[ Not untrue. Not the primary reason he's protecting her, but not untrue.

Folding his arms, Nihlus resists the nervous urge to dig his claws into the scales under them. He's not going to let himself falter now. ]

I wanted to avoid anymore similar incidences. You have a lot of personal stake in this and I didn't believe it wise to tell you. It'd have been safer for the clone to choose to reveal herself on her own terms: she has some stake in keeping the peace until then.

[As he speaks, she never breaks eye line, letting his words fall one after another into a soundless void, spelling out their meaning. There's a long period of silence before she finally speaks, standing as she does.]

So that's how it is, huh? [Her voice is still low, almost hissed, through gritted teeth, shaking with a rumble of anger like a fast-approaching thunderstorm.]

You don't trust me. Everything, everything you know about me, who I am, what I've worked for--[She sweeps her hand through the air, a fast cut to emphasize her point.]--and you don't trust me enough to sit down and have a god-damned adult conversation with me?

[Her voice rises in volume as she speaks, the storm in full force.] I reached out to her, Nihlus! And you're here to police me, in case I, what, give her three chances?!

This isn't about you.

[ There is nothing in his soft tones, nothing in his expression, nothing beyond a careful cold blankness, utterly calm despite her anger. ]

This is about the clone and keeping her and the rest of this ship as safe as it can be. Nothing more, nothing less. You yourself might not do anything brash but information travels fast on starships.

[ And he doesn't trust her there. She worked well in teams and she had a lot of teammates he knows she'd trust enough to tell this to- and they're all walking security holes. How long would the clone have been kept a secret if she'd found out earlier? ]

I'm not here to police anything, Shepard. You came here yourself. This is my answer.

Like hell it's not!

[She paces as he speaks, like a caged animal, waiting for an opening, eyes flashing with danger at his words. Forget adult conversations — he'd long-since decided how all of them would live this one out.

Wasn't about her? It was primarily about her — about her life, history, and, oh yes, she could read between the lines on the keeping of them, too. Not policing? Rich, coming hot on the heels of "You'd tell all your friends"!

She stops pacing suddenly, dead in front of the Turian, toe to toe. What she lacks in height is made up in presence, and riding a controlled froth of anger, she's got it in spades. Her initial outburst is gone, voice dropped again, words slow, not bothering to hide the cyclone of betrayal, fury, hurt.]

Loud and clear.

[For a very real second, it looks as if she's going to hit him — but at the last second, she turns on her heels, making for the door. She slams the 'open' button, feeling the mechanism crunch under her fist, and storms out when it zips aside.

Entrance made eternally ajar, her footfall is audible as it recedes down the hall, disappearing into her own room with a muted snap.]

[ There's a temptation to go and force the door on its track, slam it shut, but Nihlus refuses to give into it. He doesn't move for a long while, just listening to the sound of his own breathing in the dark.

Was it worth it? a part of him jeers from the shadows. He shoves it into a cramped little box and stows it away with the other selfish little thoughts.

This wasn't about him either.

It wasn't about anything at all. ]

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Someone's gonna get hurt

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