The only noise in the cramped and abandoned sewer control room was the dripping of water. Baelish clutched his slugthrower shotgun as he stared between the boarded window and out into the sewer’s tunnel. It had been six hours since the CIS attacked the pent house, five hours since him and his daughter separated, and about four hours since his distress call finally sent through to the Renegade. The only thoughts in his mind at that moment in the dank room was of his daughter and his failure to protect her. I’ll just say sorry, even though I know it’s not as simple as that. Tears began to pool up and leak out from his eyes, but Baelish quickly wiped away in the case that somehow someone saw him cry. At that moment he heard chatter. The chatter of Clones. The things they were saying, he only knew it was the Renegade. Weird bunch of clones He thought. An overwhelming feeling of relief flushed throughout his body. No matter the goofy or bizarre things said by the Renegade, he remained thankful for them.
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