Ouroboros 4: End

by Odette C. Bell

  . . . .

  It was crazy he could have that kind of effect on her. Then again, she was having just the same effect on him. Her presence, her smile, her words—they all gave Carson a kind of strength he’d never really experienced before.

  Sure, in the past he’d known how to push himself. As head of the Force, endurance and stamina were integral. But now, this, the way she made him feel, it gave him a kind of energy he couldn’t begin to describe. He felt like he could take on the entire damn Coalition if he had to.

  And heck, if Harrington’s reaction was anything to go by, maybe he’d have to.

  Nida tore her gaze off him and carefully pushed her hand over her modified implant.

  Harrington watched her every move, the concentration pressing across his brow like wind rippling a lake. Though she didn’t suddenly leap forward and trash the entire brig, Harrington did not let up. His hand hovered next to his gun, and the look in his eye told Carson he would shoot her if he had to.

  On some level, Carson could understand that. If he took an enormous step back from this situation, he could appreciate Harrington was simply following procedure.

  Procedure be damned.

  Carson deliberately fixed Harrington with a warning look. ‘The Captain wants to see us in the discussion room,’ he inclined his head towards Nida, but didn’t turn to face her. He kept staring at Harrington, instead.

  Without words, Carson was trying to convey to Harrington that if he tried anything, Carson would step in.

  Maybe Nida could sense how tense the situation had become, because she offered a light and terribly awkward laugh. One that easily reminded him of the old Nida. The bumbling, klutz of a cadet he’d met all those months ago now.

  This, however, was not the old Nida.

  She took a step towards Harrington, and immediately the wary brute of a man snapped his gaze over to her.

  Rather than double back in fear, she dipped her head low, as if she was trying to look up into his eyes.

  She paused.

  ‘I’m not your enemy,’ she broke her silence, her voice low and full of import, ‘I’ve got no problem with you doing your job, though. If you want to shadow me with that gun, go ahead. If you want to post a security team in every room I visit, do it. But I must pass on this warning: the entire Coalition could be at stake. We need to prepare for an immanent attack. Now, are you going to let me take my message to the Captain, or are you going to get in my way? History will remember your actions, Harrington. So pick wisely.’

  That was not how you addressed a superior. Not if you wanted to stay in the Academy.

  Harrington bristled. ‘Cadet—’

  ‘You’ve made it clear I’m no longer a member of the Coalition, or at least not one worthy of protection. So don't try to railroad me with the chain of command. Either stop me from going to see the Captain, or don’t.’

  The hair along the back of Carson’s arms and neck stood on end.

  Damn.

  So much for not being the worst recruit in 1000 years anymore, Nida could have passed for a seasoned admiral now.

  Harrington’s brow stiffened, the bridge of his nose crinkling as one lip hooked up over his teeth. He was either getting ready to shoot or shout at her.

  He did neither. Instead, with a quick look at the other guard, he motioned to the door. ‘You try anything . . .’ he trailed off as he fixed Nida with a warning look.

  ‘Trust me, the only thing I’m trying to do, is stop my mistake, I mean the entity’s mistake,’ Nida whirled on her foot and headed for the door.

  Carson stiffened.

  He’d heard what she’d said, that little vocal stumble: my mistake.

  The words sent a torrent of nerves through his back and gut.

  The entity wasn’t taking control again, right? Her implant wouldn’t suddenly malfunction and send every object and person in this room spiraling towards her, right?

  He couldn’t take another one of those attacks. Nor could he stomach the prospect the entity was still affecting her, despite her modified implant.

  It strengthened his resolve to get this all over with and get her the help she needed.

  Though they hadn’t yet had a chance to plan what they’d do once the threat of the Vex attack passed, he now realized how important it was to deal with the entity.

  He didn’t care how long it took or how many resources it would consume, he’d find some way to pull that entity from her. To get rid of it once and for all, returning Nida to normal.

  He didn’t breathe a word of this; even though the entity was ostensibly under control, he knew the price of threatening it. Clasping a hand to his neck, he remembered what it felt like to be pinned against the ceiling, waiting for death.

  As Nida walked ahead, he watched her shoulders round. She’d shown some surprising bravery in the brig, but it was starting to fade. He watched her shoot him a nervous glance over her shoulder.

  She’d know this was just the first hurdle. Getting to see Captain Singh would be the beginning.

  Convincing the Coalition the Vex were about to completely destroy them . . . heck, it felt like an impossible task.

  Hopefully Nida’s modified implant and her newfound control over the entity would help.

  If they didn’t, he had no idea what he’d do. He could still remember the destruction he’d seen in the future, of course he remembered it. It felt as though it was carved into his bones. When he closed his eyes, images of Remus 12 choked with Coalition ships assailed him. That eerie graveyard of broken vessels in space, bodies floating silently between the wreckage . . . It made him shiver even now.

  Those chilling scenes clung to him like hooks sunk into his flesh. They pushed him forward and made him promise that no matter what it took, he would prevent that future.

  Even if the Coalition didn’t believe him, he’d find a way.

  His resolve now strengthened, it wasn’t long until they reached the discussion room. To get to it, they walked through the bridge.

  If Nida had looked mildly uncomfortable walking through the corridors, it was clear she was mortified now. Her shoulders were rounded practically to the point of touching, and her cheeks were so pale and slack, they looked like wet sheets hung over bone.

  Everyone stared at her. The stares were not kind.

  Even the most seasoned officers on the bridge considered her with the wariest of gazes.

  They were all looking at Nida like they might look at a Barbarian attack vessel.

  She didn’t deserve it.

  If these fools knew even a part of what she’d done to save the Coalition, they’d be cheering.

  He locked his jaw hard, took several quick steps forward, and walked protectively by her side.

  She looked up at him, pressed her lips against her teeth, and shot him a careful smile.

  He had to fight the instinct to lean down, pluck up her hand, and hold it tightly.

  Soon enough, they reached the short gun-metal grey ramp that led down to the discussion room. Seconds later, the doors opened and closed behind them.

  He wanted to say the worst of it was over.

  It wasn’t.

  Time to face the cavalry.

  Chapter 9

  Cadet Nida Harper

  She didn’t know what to expect when she walked into that room. If her stroll through the bridge was any indication, hell was waiting for her inside the discussion room.

  She was right.

  As the doors swished closed behind her with a smooth, pneumatic hiss, she faced the enormous round wooden table that took up half the room.

  She recognized the Captain, the First Officer, the Chief Medical Officer, and a few other senior members of staff.

  As her eyes darted between the other unfamiliar faces, one stood out.

  Sharpe.

  Though she’d faced off against the Vex, the Barbarians, and the entity itself, the sight of Sharpe threatened to blow her to bits.

  She hadn’t been expecting
him. How . . . How the heck was he here?

  ‘I got here on a transport half an hour ago,’ Sharpe volunteered, clearly picking up on her terrified expression. ‘Now sit, Harper.’

  She wanted to scurry forward, duck into a chair, and hang her head in her hands. Sharpe’s officious tone always made her stomach twist inside out as her nerves played havoc up and down her back.

  Now was no different.

  Despite the fact she had the power of the entity, and could technically tap into it to send Sharpe scooting around the room, she felt nothing but incompetent in his presence.

  Maybe Carson noticed, because she saw him incline his head down. He also put a hand out to stop her from ‘sitting,’ as Sharpe had snapped.

  ‘I don’t know what you think we’ve been doing for the past few weeks, but we deserve better. She deserves better,’ Carson stated flatly in a tone she’d never heard anyone use on Sharpe.

  It raised several eyebrows. No one told him to stow it though. Instead, Captain Singh rose from her chair, immediately neatening her uniform with one hand as she surveyed Nida with fixed attention.

  It felt like being stared at by the sun. The quality of Singh’s gaze was like a pair of twin lasers boring into Nida. ‘Please, we are here to discuss what exactly you have been doing for the past few weeks since leaving the Academy,’ she said diplomatically.

  Carson levelled his chin and stared at Singh for a few seconds before nodding curtly. ‘Aye.’ He shifted forward, pulled out a chair for Nida, and then sat in one himself.

  She really didn’t want to sit down. Right now, all she felt like doing was running the heck away. Suddenly the prospect of being stuck on Remus 12 wasn’t so appalling. Though that dust-caked planet was barren and devoid of life, at least that meant there was no Sharpe.

  ‘Nida,’ Carson gestured with his head towards her chair.

  Awkwardly, she sat.

  She didn’t dare stare at anyone. Instead she brought up her modified implant and started playing with it.

  Big mistake.

  ‘Don’t touch that. We still don’t know what it does,’ the Chief Medical Officer snapped. He was Irish, and his lilting accent was at odds with the fervor behind his words.

  Nida jumped, startling so badly, it was a surprise her heart didn’t spring right out of her chest and hide in the chair.

  ‘Where did you pick that up?’ the First Officer snapped.

  ‘Where the hell have you two been for the past few weeks? And don’t sprout some baloney about time travel,’ Sharpe snarled.

  The room erupted at once, every one hurling their questions at Nida and Carson like volleys from a cannon.

  She receded in her chair.

  This was worse, way worse than any serving Sharpe had given her in the past.

  ‘Hey,’ Carson snapped, punching to his feet as he slammed his hands on the table. The move was so strong, the wood rattled.

  It got people’s attention.

  Then the shouting began once more.

  ‘What were the Barbarians doing on Remus 12?’

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Do you expect us to believe time travel is possible?’

  Carson tried to raise his voice above the cacophony, but even he was finding it hard to be heard.

  Nida had no chance.

  ‘We travelled back in time. I know it sounds insane, but you’ve got to believe us,’ Carson sounded desperate.

  No one listened.

  The tension in the room kept rising and rising, like smoke from a simmering fire ready to burst into full flame.

  ‘The Vex are coming, we need to prepare.’

  ‘Who the hell are the Vex?’

  ‘None of this makes any sense.’

  'This is insane,' Sharpe said as he rose to his feet. 'This makes no sense.'

  'Sharpe, please,' Carson tried, jumping to his own feet. 'We’re telling the truth.'

  'It's impossible. Do you actually expect us to believe—' Sharpe began as he locked his gaze on Nida.

  She had to do something. Something to prove what they were saying was true. Short of taking him back to Vex and forcing him to endure its timeline, there was only one thing she could think of.

  She lifted her hand, and the conference table lifted with her.

  It was a gentle move, only designed to get their attention.

  And get their attention it did.

  Every person at the table gasped and shifted back in surprise.

  'We're not lying,' she said softly. ‘And you need to listen,’ her voice was quiet, and yet carried. The emotion shaking through it was far subtler than the cacophonous shouts Sharpe and the others had offered.

  She kept the table a few centimeters in the air, and it was easy. She could have sent it slamming into the ceiling with the force of a gunshot, and that would have been easy too.

  That wasn’t the point.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Harrington snapped from behind her.

  She knew his gun was raised and pointed right at her.

  It was a metaphor for this entire situation. Here they all were, standing at the barrel of a gun, just before the Vex would emerge to wipe out the Coalition, and they couldn’t listen long enough to hear.

  The stakes were higher than ever, and people couldn’t get passed their disbelief long enough to figure out whether her story was true.

  Well, time to show them.

  She kept the table in the air.

  Harrington didn’t shoot.

  Even if he had, the bullet wouldn’t have reached her.

  She felt Carson by her side, his body ramrod straight as he stared at her.

  Was he questioning her? Was he worried the entity was in control?

  It wasn’t.

  She stared across at Sharpe. ‘I think it was you who told us in one of our first classes that doubt must be proportional to risk. As a Coalition cadet, we’re meant to go out into the universe to face the unknown. We need to be equipped with an open mind tempered by reason. Well, is your mind open, Sharpe? You’ve done nothing but shout that this doesn’t make any sense. Well then, isn’t it incumbent upon you to investigate, not dismiss? What exactly do you think Carson and I have been doing? Where do you think we got this modified TI? Because we’ve travelled through time.’

  Sharpe looked dumbstruck, but he still opened his mouth to protest.

  She got there first. Pointing at the ceiling, the table rose several more centimeters. ‘Doubt needs to be proportional to risk, Sharpe, and we’re telling you an alien race known as the Vex are about to destroy the Coalition. You may not want to believe that, but believe this,’ she lifted the table a few more centimeters, keeping every glass of water on top perfectly steady as she did, ‘I’m possessed by an entity with the power to move any object, and with the power to infect the Academy’s computer banks and initiate the End Game Maneuver. It’s sentient, and it’s guilty. And it will do whatever it takes to fix its mistake. It’s currently being held back by this modified TI. But its damage has already been done. You may not believe time travel is possible, but you are dealing with something—the entity—that is an incalculable risk. So suspend your doubt. Do what we say. Prepare for an attack. If the worst that happens is no attack arises, you’ve lost nothing. If, however, you don’t prepare, and the Vex surge out of their timeline to take down the Coalition, you lose it all. Pick one,’ she let the table fall dramatically and sat back down.

  Harrington was likely ready to shoot her.

  She didn’t care.

  She’d made her point.

  It was time to see how people would react.

  She watched Sharpe in particular. He was looking at her with such pale, sallow cheeks, and such obvious consternation plucking across his crumpled brow, it was hard not to look his way.

  She’d give anything to know what he was thinking. In his eyes, no doubt she was still the worst recruit in 1000 years. The worst recruit who could lift a table half a meter into the air with noth
ing but her mind, that was.

  The Captain was the first to speak. She stood carefully, pressing her fingers into the table before her, the move a pronounced one, as if she was checking to see if the damn thing was real.

  After a long pause, she levelled her chin, narrowed her gaze, and stared at Nida. ‘Such a display was unnecessary, though . . . convincing.’

  Her first officer went to speak, as did Sharpe, but Captain Singh raised a hand quickly and with such a note of authority, only the most mutinous of officers would have ignored her.

  She stood there and focused all her attention on Nida. Again it felt like having a sun stare at her, a sun that was barely five meters from her and getting hotter by the minute.

  Nida didn’t cower back. She clutched hold of her courage and furled it around her shoulders like a cloak. She’d fought the Vex, she kept repeating to herself, she could do this.

  If she didn’t, she’d have to fight the Vex once more, wouldn’t she? The cost of ignoring her warning would lead to the same scenario she’d faced in the future: the Coalition lying in tatters, with more than half the fleet buried in the floating graveyard that was Remus 12’s orbit.

  Except this time, it would be slightly different: she’d be here and so would Carson. They’d fight, side-by-side to do what it would take. Even if Nida had to rely on the entity and its power, she’d stop the Vex from destroying her home.

  At that thought, she felt an itch cross her wrist. She knew what it was: a shadow of the entity. Though the modified telekinetic implant was keeping it at bay, she was still aware of its dull presence. Now, as she threatened to stop the Vex, the entity was stronger than usual. It felt like a powerful wave crashing against a levy. For now the levy would hold, but she knew she had to remain on guard.

  She also knew she had to be quick. Time was not a luxury she could afford.

  So as the Captain levelled her gaze at Nida, Nida did the same to the Captain. She didn’t shrink away nor push back into her chair—Cadet Nida Harper stood up for herself.

  Singh gave a harsh, frustrated breath that echoed through the large room. It was clear the Captain didn’t know what to do.

  ‘Nida is right,’ Carson interrupted as he turned to stare directly at Singh. ‘The cost of believing us and preparing for an attack if one doesn’t come is worth it. The cost of ignoring us, will come at your own peril. Just think. Nida showed you what the entity can do when it’s controlled. I’ve seen what it does when it’s not,’ his voice, once strong, became hollow.