Ouroboros Episode One

by Odette C. Bell

  Chapter 28

  Carson Blake

  Things were working out far better than expected. When Admiral Lara Forest had given him the seemingly impossible task of fixing everything, he'd imagined it would take a herculean effort and ridiculous, ridiculous good luck.

  But it hadn't. No, things just seemed to be??working out. Nida had found him, and the powerful entity residing within her had dispatched the Barbarians with terrifying ease.

  And now they were all returning to Remus 12.

  In several hours, this whole sorry chapter would be over, and he could return to the Academy with Nida at his side.

  And though she was sure she would get in trouble or be transported to Jupiter substation for a lifetime of tests, he would be true to his word, and he would fight for her. He would do everything he could to convince the Admiral that she was not a problem.

  Because she wasn't. Nida herself was not dangerous. She was??well, nice, sweet, and yes, very awkward, but underneath that remarkably practical.

  He couldn't imagine anybody else surviving what she had with such resilience. There was an enormously powerful entity within her body, sending her terrifying dreams and visions, and yet she was still capable of smiling and functioning normally.

  He wanted to say that he was proud of her, but couldn't think of a way to do so that didn't sound sappy and really, really pathetic.

  He kept telling himself that he hardly knew her.

  Okay, so they'd gone through some particularly harrowing events together, but still, he didn't even know her middle name, let alone how many years she had left at the Academy. The majority of her life was just a big question mark in his mind, and he longed for the opportunity to find out as much about her as he could.

  First, they had to get to Remus 12, though. Everything else could wait.

  Well, apart from his injury.

  His arm throbbed. It had been throbbing ever since the Barbarian had attacked him, and it had only gotten worse while Carson had been talking to Nida. But he hadn't dared interrupt the conversation.

  Because finally, finally he'd gotten the answers he'd been looking for.

  Her dreams?. They now made sense.

  And the injuries she'd received on Remus 12, in fact, everything was starting to fall into place.

  Though Carson wanted to head to engineering and the primary armory locker that was there, he didn't want to walk Nida through the rest of the ship. He couldn't let her see the Barbarians.

  He had already confirmed with the computer that there were no life signs other than himself and Nida, and as he'd rushed through the corridors following her to the bridge, he'd seen what she'd done. No, he corrected himself, what the entity had done.

  To put it succinctly, it had been effective.

  The Barbarians had been neutralized.

  That was the only way he wanted to describe it, because if he delved into the true facts, it would terrify him, and he really, really didn't have the opportunity to be terrified right now. He had to stay strong, at least for the next several hours.

  So instead of heading down to engineering, he simply walked over to the armory cupboard on the side of the bridge.

  He rooted around in it until he found a set of tools.

  Then he ran his hand over his damaged shoulder again.

  Assessing it, he finally realized it was probably easier to take the armor off, and brought up his wristwatch, typing something into it.

  Instantly the armor receded from his body and back into the gloves it came from.

  However, when it came to his injured shoulder, there was a strange beep, a crackle, and that section of armor simply fell off and tumbled to the floor.

  "Well, that answers that question," he muttered under his breath.

  "What?" Nida asked from his side.

  "Whether I had broken this armor or not. And the answer is yes. This one is stuffed. Luckily enough," he pointed to the open armory cupboard, "I have a supply to last me a lifetime."

  Nida leaned down beside him and picked up the broken section of armor. Little tendrils of blue light escaped from her skin and played over the surface of the cracked plating as if they were exploring it.

  Now completely distracted from his task, he stared at it, and he stared at her.

  She didn't appear to be aware of what she was doing, or at least not of what the entity was doing. "I can fix it. Is it important to you?" she asked.

  Her voice was not her own.

  It was the entity's. It was calm, it was sure, and it was ancient.

  Terrifyingly ancient. There was no other way to describe it. The sense you got when you listened to it was one of incalculable age.

  He swallowed, trying to control his reaction. "It's okay," he answered clearly. "It isn't important."

  She looked up at him sharply, and her already blue eyes flashed with a far more vibrant spark of color. "We do not know what is important until it is important," the entity commented.

  "Okay," he answered dumbly.

  Really? Okay? He had been schooled in how to deal with alien races. Diplomacy, cultural sensitivity, and yes, negotiations. And yet here he was acting like a freaking three-year-old around one of the most powerful entities the United Galactic Coalition had ever discovered.

  He swallowed nervously.

  Then the entity appeared to withdraw, and Nida shrugged her shoulders, letting the broken armor plating go, and throwing it lightly to the floor. Then she looked up at his shoulder and winced. "That looks really painful," she pointed at him.

  For the first time, he looked down and considered his injury.

  Damn cheap prefabricated armor sets, he thought bitterly. If only he'd gone to the trouble of creating his own set of armor before the Barbarians had boarded, he wouldn't have this injury. "It's okay," he managed in a falsely light tone, "it will fix pretty quick," he added as he reached further into the armory cupboard and grabbed a first aid kit.

  "Do you want me to run to the infirmary to get better equipment?" she offered.

  "No," he said too quickly and too loudly.

  She blinked, her shock obvious.

  "I mean, there's no point," he said as he coughed, forcibly calming his tone. "This will do fine," he added, trying to smile at her.

  Though she still looked a little shocked at his sudden reaction, she shrugged her shoulders.

  He didn't want her exploring the rest of the ship.

  She'd appeared overcome by what she'd done to the Barbarians, and he couldn't let her go and remind herself by seeing the bodies.

  "Are you sure you don't want to do this in the infirmary?" she asked carefully, "I mean, take it from someone like me who gets injured all the time, you can do some pretty miraculous healing with the right equipment."

  He laughed, but it was really awkward, and it petered out to a wheeze. "Yes, you can. But I'm really not that injured. Plus, I don't want to leave the bridge, and I don't want you to leave the bridge either," he added quickly when she looked ready to offer again. "We should just stick together until this is over," he said firmly.

  This appeared to convince her, and she nodded.

  "Right," he managed, lumbering over to the captain's chair and sitting in it roughly as he opened the first aid kit on his lap. Shifting through the contents, he finally found what he wanted. A long dressing made of a specific type of nano fiber that would release nanoparticles into the blood that were programmed to heal everything from a bruise, to completely shattered bone.

  "This will do," he muttered as he took hold of the bandage. Then he awkwardly tried to pull up the sleeve of his uniform.

  "It's not going to roll up that far," she pointed out lightly. "I can turn around if you don't want to take your top off in front of me," she managed with a little cough.

  His cheeks immediately flushed with heat. "No, I, umm?" he trailed off.

  Well, damn, wasn't this awkward.

  She looked intensely uncomfortable at his reaction, but he couldn't tell whet
her she was blushing; her skin was incandescent blue, after all.

  "I have no problem," he supplied, realizing that was possibly the most awkward thing he could say, and quickly admonishing himself silently.

  "Okay," she said in a high-toned voice.

  To demonstrate his point, Carson now proceeded to take off his tunic top. It was the same uniform he'd been wearing since the Academy. Though he could have changed into other clothes aboard the Farsight, he hadn't bothered yet. Well, now he pulled it off, realizing his skin really was flushed as he did.

  Trying to ignore it, he dumped the top on the floor by his chair and quickly distracted himself by tending to his wound.

  With the top off, he could see just how bruised he was. His shoulder was purple and blue, and in places, black. He had received a considerable blunt trauma. While the armor had stopped the blade from cutting into his skin, and it had disbursed the impact, it hadn't protected him entirely. And now he clamped hard on his jaw as he palpated the injury.

  "Why don't you just give yourself a localized anesthetic?" Nida asked, her voice still high pitched.

  He glanced up at her. She was standing several meters away, with her hands clasped very properly in front of her, staring at her feet.

  "I??well," he began.

  "Look, I have done this many times before. Let me do it," she announced, taking a jerky step forward.

  He wanted to tell her not to bother, but he didn't get the chance; she stumbled over to him, grabbed the first aid kit off his lap, and started administering to his wound.

  Very quickly and very professionally. Because she was likely right, she'd done this numerous, numerous times before.

  She gave him a localized anesthetic, then discarded the nano bandage he'd selected, and rummaged around until she found one to her liking. "Those other ones absorb into the skin and leave a dreadful tingle," she announced, explaining her decision, "these ones don't." She carefully applied the bandage, patting the edge of it down until it stuck completely.

  It took him awhile to realize he was holding his breath.

  And he didn't know why.

  Okay, maybe he did; there was a glowing blue woman attending to his wound, and that wasn't something that happened every other day.

  Now she was up close to him, he could see how alive the energy encasing her was. The light didn't simply glow; it moved, it danced, it jumped up from her flesh, traveled several centimeters, then dived down again. It was a lively, engaging pattern, and before too long, he found himself staring at her neck, then her hands.

  She cleared her throat. "It's all finished."

  He doubled back, trying to pretend he hadn't been staring. "Great, I mean, thanks," he added as he brought up his good hand to check the bandage.

  He had to admit, she'd done a pretty good job. If the Academy didn't work out for her, then maybe she could go into the medical sciences. He could see her as a nurse or doctor?. Okay, maybe he couldn't. She would likely trip over her patients and fly head-first through the window.

  She took several steps back, clasped her hands in front of her again, then looked over at the viewscreen.

  It took him a moment to realize she was waiting for him to put his shirt back on.

  He cleared his throat, feeling like a complete idiot, then practically jumped off the chair, snatched it up, and crammed it over his head as quickly as he could.

  "Thanks," he said again.

  But she didn't turn to him, and she didn't respond. Instead, she stared, without blinking, at the viewscreen.

  "Nida?" he asked in a quiet, cautious tone.

  Again, she didn't reply. That blue light in her eyes flashed, and he knew the entity must be taking hold.

  "We will arrive there shortly," he reassured it.

  Now she turned. Now she faced him. "I hope it will be that easy," the entity said.

  The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and a fresh wash of fear rushed through him. "It will be. This is Coalition space, and though we ran into those Barbarian ships, there won't be anymore. Plus, I don't think they will be bothering you again," he added, his voice shaking with disbelief. He could remember, in perfect detail, how the entity had dispatched those Barbarians.

  With bone-chilling efficiency.

  Whatever the entity was, it was powerful. Yet if it was right, it was also incredibly dangerous. If it stayed much longer in this space-time, it would corrupt. And from the brief explanation Carson had been given, corruption didn't sound like a good thing.

  Taking a breath and re-engaging his resolve, he nodded at her. "Everything will be fine," he promised once more.

  The entity stiffened, then he realized it wasn't the entity anymore - it was Nida. She looked uncomfortable for a moment, then shook her head. "It's very strange??having something in your mind that can control your body," she admitted.

  He wanted to laugh and point out that was an understatement, but he didn't. Instead, he watched her in silence, then gave what he hoped was a commiserating nod. "We're almost there," he pointed out uselessly. God, he felt like he was simply repeating the same empty statements over and over again. It will all be okay; we're almost there; everything will be fine soon. He probably sounded as if he'd hit his head.

  "I think I might??have a shower," Nida announced.

  Carson went to say sure but shook his head. He didn't want her going into the rest of the ship.

  She saw his movement, and her eyebrows crumpled down. "It's okay," she began," I can?" she trailed off.

  "The Barbarian bodies," he took a long time to say the word bodies, "are still out there," he finally admitted to her. "Maybe you should stay in here."

  Even under the blue, incandescent glow of her cheeks, he swore she paled. Her gaze drifted down to the ground, and she stared at her shoes. Then she shook her head. "I??am okay," she began. "What am I saying? I killed those men," she brought her hands up and stared at them.

  Once he'd been hesitant to touch her, but now that didn't seem to matter anymore. He crossed the distance between them, grabbed her hands, and pushed them down.

  She didn't jerk back, but she did shift her head up until she looked at him.

  "Just don't think about it. Don't think about anything until we get to Remus 12. And I know you want a shower and maybe a fresh change of clothes," he mumbled as he looked down at her. Firstly, she was wearing a hospital gown. Secondly, it had blast marks over it, and there were holes peppered here and there. "So just wait??until I??deal with the stuff outside," he gestured over his shoulder to the rest of the ship.

  She looked as though she would be sick.

  "You didn't kill them," he said through clenched teeth, his words sounding far more dismayed than he'd intended.

  Though her gaze flashed with guilt, she eventually closed her eyes. "I could have stopped it," she admitted, "I managed to stop it from killing you. Which meant that if I had tried just a little harder, or cared a little more, I could have stopped it from killing the Barbarians too."

  He spluttered. He couldn't help it. "Listen to yourself. If you had stopped the entity from killing the Barbarians, the Barbarians would have killed you. They aren't nice, caring people, Nida. They are violent, homicidal, vicious psychopaths. Do you want me to go through the number of crimes they have committed? Would you like me to list the number of worlds they have ransacked? Should I tell you what happened a couple of years ago when they managed to get their hands on a Coalition heavy cruiser and all its crew?"

  She shuddered back, but he still held hold of her hand.

  "I know this is hard, but really, just don't think about it. And thank you," he added in a husky voice at the end.

  This made her look up. She locked her shifting, wavering gaze on him. "For what?" she mouthed the words, clearly incapable of saying them.

  "For saving me. For stopping??the entity," he managed.

  It was so strange to speak of the entity while it was right there inside her and could take control of her at any moment. But it
didn't matter. He wanted to reach out and communicate with Nida right now; he needed to reassure her.

  Though she didn't look happy and guilt still flashed in her eyes, she finally took a deep breath. "You shouldn't have to deal with the??bodies on your own," she whispered.

  "No," he said firmly, "I will deal with them on my own. I need somebody here to look after the bridge," he added, coming up with a quick and very effective excuse. "Academy regulations state that when a crew consists of two or more people, there should always be at least one manning the bridge. And that, Cadet, will be you."

  She opened her mouth, clearly ready to argue the point.

  He shook his head, finally dropping her hand. "I'm afraid that's an order," he said in a lower tone close to a growl, but nowhere near as angry.

  She pursed her lips together and finally nodded.

  She took several steps away from him, pushing her hair behind her ears as she did.

  It was such a dramatic sight to see her encased in that blue light.

  It was easy to allow himself to be fully distracted by it. To be completely mesmerized.

  He wanted the time and opportunity to assess that light, to watch it as it danced over her skin. He of course would not get the time, and he certainly wouldn't get the opportunity. Things were awkward enough between them as it was without sitting there and staring at her face for several hours.

  Gulping at his own uncomfortable thought, he finally turned around and walked out.

  As the doors to the bridge closed behind him, his heart closed with them.

  He had seen dead bodies before. It was part of space travel.

  Yes, things were safer now than they had been in the past. Ships didn't decompress as much; the technology was vastly superior to the bad old days of initial interstellar travel. There were also fewer wars and violent disputes. But that didn't mean that every Coalition soldier would always be safe.

  So yes, he'd seen his fair share of death, and unfortunately, he'd meted it out too.

  But it never made it easy.

  Especially dealing with the aftermath.

  With a heavy breath and heavy footsteps, he toured the ship.

  He didn't even want to count how many Barbarians there were. Instead, he attended to the grisly task of dealing with their bodies.

  At some point, the entity had stopped pinning them to the ceiling or the walls, and they were now all flopped face first on the floor. There were several bodies, however, that he was responsible for, and as he walked up to the Barbarian he'd shot outside of his bedroom, Carson had to slam a hand on his stomach not to throw up everywhere.

  The stench was??simply indefinable. It was on a scale the human nose was not designed to tolerate.

  It made him gag.

  But somehow, he pushed through.

  Though the Barbarians were, by definition, barbaric when it came to the disposal of enemy bodies, he worked for the United Galactic Coalition. And he respected the rights of the dead.

  It took almost half an hour, and by the time it was over, he felt heavy and cold all over.

  He also realized he couldn't return to the bridge. Not looking and feeling like this. So instead, he set about the task of assessing the damage to the ship. He also took the opportunity to remove all TI objects he could. He didn't want any on board with Nida. So he gathered them up and locked them deep within one of the armory cupboards.

  He simply couldn't run the risk of another accident. Plus, even if the inconceivable happened, and more Barbarians attacked, the TI objects and weapons would be of no use; the Barbarians all possessed technology capable of blocking TI fields. There were only certain races who couldn't block TI fields, and unfortunately, those brutes weren't one of them.

  Nonetheless, it would be an inconvenience; TI objects could be used to make many ship processes more efficient.

  Still, if it meant stopping more accidents, he'd throw those damn objects out of the airlock. He simply couldn't put up with another TI block or pole trying to impale her.

  Gathering up all the TI objects on the ship, he soon made it to the engine room.

  As he entered, he expected to see a mess.

  What he saw instead was a strange, pulsing, blue light flickering around the dual engine cores.

  He recognized at once that it was the entity.

  It had already told him that despite the damage this ship had received, it would get the Farsight to Remus 12.

  He stood there and stared at that blue light dancing and wriggling and jumping around the engine cores.

  It was strangely relaxing. It helped him forget what he'd just done.

  He couldn't tell how long he stood there staring at them, waiting for the warmth and emotion to return to him.

  Then he heard a soft voice behind him. "Carson? Are you okay?"

  He turned to see Nida standing in the doorway.

  His immediate reaction was to shout at her to get back to the bridge. He hadn't wanted her to see any of the destruction her entity had caused. But he'd already dealt with the bodies, and frankly, there was no way he could repair the ship on his own.

  He was aware that she was staring at him, and as he briefly glanced her way, he noted just how sorrowful her expression was. "I'm sorry you had to do that on your own," she said in a raspy voice.

  He shook his head, trying to appear strong, but it was a poor, pathetic effort. He closed his eyes instead, actually fearful he might shed a tear.

  Then he felt a soft, small hand on his arm.

  It was Nida.

  "We're almost there," she said in a quiet voice. "It's almost over, right?"

  Though he wanted to keep his eyes still firmly closed, he opened them. She was right there in front of him, and he could see that incredible light playing across her skin like the reflected glow of a brightly burning fire.

  Just as the light of the engine cores had calmed him, the blue glow encasing her comforted him also. Or maybe it wasn't the glow; maybe it was Nida herself.

  "You should go back to the bridge," she tried, "otherwise you'll be breaking Academy regulations."

  Despite how cold he still felt, he raised an eyebrow. "You're the one breaking regulations. I ordered you to stay there."

  "When you didn't return, I got kind of worried," she admitted in a quiet voice, "plus, I'm pretty sure there's a counter regulation that states when a crew member has been out of contact for an extended amount of time, you are permitted to leave the bridge to look for them."

  Somehow, he managed a smile. And somehow, that smile made everything feel just a little bit better. It didn't wash away what he'd just dealt with, but it made it seem a tiny bit easier to bear. "I guess you're right, Cadet. But I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be telling me what to do," he managed, forcing a half smile again.

  "Are you sure? I do possess an entity of unfathomable power," she tried.

  He wanted to laugh at her joke, but it fell flat. It touched far too close to the bone. Instead, he patted her shoulder and stepped away.

  Yep, he patted her shoulder, as if he were some kind of overbearing father figure.

  He wanted to cringe at his own behavior, but he didn't have the time. "I will return to the bridge, and you should be okay to have your shower now," he announced.

  "Okay. But maybe you should?" she began.

  "Yes?"

  "I don't know, but maybe you should put your armor back on," she suggested.

  This made him frown. "You don't like my uniform?"

  She didn't laugh. "I don't know what we're going to find down on Remus 12," she stated, her voice becoming croaky, almost to the point that he could no longer understand it.

  He frowned deeply now, and the move reminded him of just how cold he felt. "What are you saying?"

  "I don't really know. I just get this sense??that things might not be over yet. I think you should return to the bridge and put your armor on. I think we should be prepared before we go down to the planet."

  He considered her quie
tly, then nodded. She was right. "I'll do one better; I'll manufacture a proper set of armor for myself. If you give me your specifications, I'll make one for you too," he began.

  She shook her head. "We will not be constrained," the entity interrupted.

  Carson opened his mouth to protest but stopped.

  He wasn't dumb enough to argue with the entity. Instead, he nodded. "Okay, no armor. You can have your shower now," he suggested, watching carefully to see whether the entity would be placated.

  With a confused blink, the real Nida appeared to return. Giving an awkward wave, she walked out, mumbling that she would be quick.

  He watched her go.

  Then he sprang into action.

  And it felt good.

  Action was the one thing that could stop him from thinking about the horrors he'd just witnessed.

  He would build himself the perfect set of armor, and he would be prepared. For what, he didn't know, but he would be as prepared as he could be.

  That strengthened his resolve, and immediately Carson set to work.