Ouroboros- The Complete Series

by Odette C. Bell

  Varo, to his credit, did not look away. Instead, he stood there and glared back.

  ‘Carson, just go. It'll be fine,’ Nida promised.

  While her voice was firm and assured, her expression was at odds with her words.

  She looked washed out with fear.

  . . . .

  He had to fight the urge to run over to her, cancel the plan, and hightail it out of here.

  Yet with a determined breath, he just nodded.

  She wasn't wearing the holster he'd given her, yet he could tell with a simple scan from his armor that it was tucked under her skirts. All plasma handguns gave off a specific energy signature, and were relatively easy to track.

  He was emboldened by the fact she'd hidden it.

  He also held onto the hope she knew exactly how to use it, and wouldn't hesitate if the situation—or Varo, rather—turned on her.

  ‘Right,’ Carson said again, coaxing his immobilized muscles into moving.

  ‘Come,’ Cara said simply. She ducked her head down until she stared up at him from under her brows. ‘I have confidence in you; you appear to know how to handle yourself.’

  He had to choke back a laugh at that.

  He'd been the one to win against her in the tunnels, so it should be him saying he had confidence in her.

  Yet with a kick to his stomach, he remembered how good she was. Maybe without the edge his armor afforded him, he would have lost.

  Maybe.

  ‘Come, Carson, the future awaits,’ Cara waved him forward.

  Carson turned to follow.

  Not before he searched out Nida's gaze and held it.

  A lot passed between them in that moment.

  Raw emotion. Longing even.

  But he didn't have the time or attention to process it. Instead, he drew on his years of training and turned around.

  It was time to go through with this mission. And he would make it a success.

  In silence, Cara led him through the main room and back into the tunnels. Though Varo had not changed his stance of lending them more men or firepower, he had conceded to give them guides and assistance through the tunnels.

  So Carson walked as part of a small group, all their boots echoing against the metal floor as they strode forward as one.

  There was always a sense of camaraderie on missions like this, and even though Carson didn't know anyone except Cara, he suddenly felt connected to the men around him.

  They were all risking the same thing. Their freedom. Their limbs. Their lives.

  As expectation built within him, a metallic taste built in his mouth. It wasn't blood. It was nerves, adrenaline, and the knowledge things were about to get dangerous beyond reason.

  Once they'd made it through the tunnels, Carson's expectation had built until it felt as though someone had riveted his eyes open and wound his heart up like spring.

  Then they reached it.

  The top.

  The city.

  They came out of a small doorway set in the side of an alleyway.

  The first thing Carson realized upon entering the fresh air was that it wasn't all that fresh.

  There was a strange, pervasive, acrid chemical tinge permeating the night. Without a thought, he activated his helmet and let it pull over his head. As it did, it managed to block out that smell. Yet the damn thing lingered on his tongue. He could taste it, and it tasted like smoke imbued with burning metal.

  ‘Come on,’ Cara waved him forward as she secured her helmet over her head.

  The rest of the resistance now left them. Without a word, they simply retreated back through that plain metal door.

  He watched them go, and as he did, his stomach kicked.

  He sent a silent prayer to Nida begging her to be alright.

  ‘Come on,’ Cara hissed again.

  He turned, pushed against his boots, and rushed up to her.

  Before he'd left the tunnels, he'd been sure to modify the appearance of his armor until it mostly resembled Cara's.

  Though Cara had been unquestionably impressed, she hadn't been shocked; to her, Carson's armor was a gift of the Goddess, and thus was imbued with god-like power. So it was no surprise that it could change shape and color.

  He wanted to ask her what the Goddess was—he wanted to pry into her beliefs.

  Did she believe in deities, in magic, in transcendence? Did she attend rituals? Did she believe in some kind of after life? Or were her beliefs more scientific? Did she know the Goddess—or the entity—was from another realm? Did she know it didn't belong here?

  Trying to sort through his thoughts, Carson was careful to stay close by Cara as they made their way through the city.

  Once the remnants of that smell had finally left Carson, he was free to assess the rest of the city.

  He was struck by how . . . lonely everything seemed.

  The streets were all but deserted.

  The buildings were tall, clinical, and imposing.

  There was barbed wire heaped in loops over fences and walls and before doorways.

  Everything was protected, secured, defended.

  There was no sense of anything organic, anything alive.

  Just the cold shadow of industry colored by the militarized buildings and streets.

  There was no graffiti. There was no art. All the buildings were the same; variations on a block, without any flourishes or flairs.

  It felt like walking through a model city, as if he'd been shrunk and placed inside a dollhouse. A particularly cold, industrialized, dystopian dollhouse. Still, it couldn’t change the unreal sense he felt as he followed Cara through the streets.

  ‘It will take five minutes,’ she hissed at him, her voice muffled through her helmet.

  He didn't answer.

  She didn't need to hear his yes; she only needed for him to march silently and purposefully by her side.

  She was quick on her feet. She was also very effective in picking up on enemy movements. She would pull close to the nearest wall, door, or corner whenever she heard movement, and only wave Carson on when the coast was clear.

  She was good.

  Really good.

  While he was more than aware of where government troops were—considering he could use his armor’s scanners—she just relied on her own senses, and they were perfectly accurate.

  Soon enough they neared the Central Security Facility.

  He commanded his armor to draw up a blueprint of the city, and he knew he was now less than two streets from their destination.

  From this point, their progress would become a heck of a lot harder.

  His scanners told him there were several active battlements dotted around the building in front of him. It also warned him of numerous vehicles and, importantly, weapons.

  Though rudimentary, he couldn't afford to ignore them. Whilst the government troops had nothing that could get through his armor, he had to be careful of Cara.

  Then again, it was becoming more than clear that she could look after herself.

  ‘The roof,’ she said simply, pointing to a tall building before them. She held up four fingers and pointed up.

  With the use of his scanners, he realized she meant there were four soldiers on top of the roof.

  . . . .

  Except there were actually five.

  There was another crouched low underneath some kind of makeshift roof.

  Though his scanners were not perfect, and could not rival anything a United Galactic Coalition cruiser possessed, they were still truly powerful. Especially in comparison to the technology of this time.

  Still, the fact Cara knew there were four enemies on top of that roof was still incredible. He didn't know what senses she was relying on, but whatever they were, they were damn honed.

  Silently they made their way to the building. Along one side was a long metal staircase that resembled an old Earth fire escape.

  They both took to it as quietly as they could. Though Carson's boots were heavy, the
y no longer made a sound; he told the on-board computer to make them as silent as could be.

  As for Cara, well, she just managed the same feat without the use of incredible tech.

  The further he travelled with her, the more impressed he became.

  Once they made it to the top of the stairwell, they stopped.

  Tension constricting his throat and making his back stiff and slick with sweat, Carson waited for Cara to make the first move. Yet at the same time he scanned the top of the roof.

  There were still five enemies. No, wait . . . now there were six. One had just come out of a doorway leading down into the center of the building.

  While he was confident he could take them on, he also knew the importance of keeping this as secret as they could for now.

  Cara raised four fingers again, then hesitated. She had her head pressed against the drab smooth concrete wall beside her.

  After a moment's pause, she raised another finger.

  Five.

  No, Carson thought quickly, six.

  And if his scanners were doing their job, there were another ten or so contacts within the building itself, all sporting rudimentary but still potentially deadly weapons.

  She collapsed her hand into a fist, then once more pointed up as she pulled her gun from her holster.

  It was Carson's turn to hesitate.

  If she thought there were only five soldiers up there, and she based her plan on that assumption, then she could fail.

  And he couldn't afford failure right now.

  Which meant he had to be prepared to do whatever he could, utilizing every single one of his advantages if it came to it.

  ‘Follow my lead,’ Cara said simply.

  As she did, she pulled something out from her holster.

  Carson didn't need to ask to realize what it was; his armor could pick up traces of explosive compounds, and on closer inspection confirmed to him the device was a rudimentary bomb.

  Though he wanted to ask where she was going to put that, he told himself to trust her for now.

  ‘Wait here,’ she hissed quietly.

  He didn't know if he could do that. Sure, she was capable, but she only thought there were five soldiers up there.

  Before Carson could do anything, she darted off.

  He reached out to grab her, but she had already moved past.

  He swore loudly inside his helmet, the sound echoing around his head, but not penetrating through the plating into the world outside.

  Tensing even further, which was incredible when you considered how rigid his muscles were already, he kept scanning the roof. He also fixed the Goddess' tear further over his palm.

  He'd given Nida his gun, because, at the time, it had been the right thing to do.

  Apart from the entity, she was completely defenseless.

  He had his armor and this device to rely on.

  And he knew how to use both.

  Scanning continuously, he soon realized Cara wasn't just good—she was incredible.

  She managed to make her way across the roof without once drawing suspicion. He could tell that, because his scanners could pick up the bio signs of the six soldiers above, and not one of them showed any sign of heightened awareness.

  ‘Wow,’ he mumbled under his breath, again his voice did not echo outside of his helmet, ‘we could really use her in the future.’

  It was a concept he kept repeating, and he'd be a fool not to appreciate why.

  Not only was Cara amazing, he couldn't deny the connection that had blossomed between them in the short time they'd grown to know each other.

  . . . .

  A time that would soon be over.

  When Carson found the dimensional bridge or the next time gate, he would have to either send the entity through or go through himself. In short, leaving Cara and her world behind.

  That fact sat heavily with him. No, it ate away like acid seeping into his bones.

  It didn't seem fair.

  He had the brightest of futures ahead of him, and what did Cara have to look forward to? The eventual and inevitable destruction of Remus 12 at the hands of its own inhabitants.

  He shook his head at the sadness of it all.

  And then, for just the briefest of moments, he thought one thing: he could bring her with him. To the future. Her talents were wasted here, after all, right? He'd love to see her in action against the Barbarians. He'd love to see how quickly she could master the Academy course and climb the ranks of the United Galactic Coalition.

  Yet as soon as those thoughts formed, he dismissed them.

  No.

  Absolutely not.

  For one, he could not further interrupt the time line. By returning to this point in Remus 12's history, he had likely already done immeasurable damage, but to pull someone out of this history just because he fancied them, was unconscionable.

  With that resolve sinking through him, it combatted his desire and he steeled himself.

  Not too long after, Cara returned.

  She'd actually clambered through one of the top windows to plant the bomb inside one of the rooms.

  It was unbelievable that she could be so agile in such bulky and cumbersome armor.

  He said nothing though; she had no idea he had the ability to scan and track her movements when she left his line of sight.

  ‘This way,’ she hissed, waving him forward with a short and snapped move of her hand.

  He obediently and silently followed.

  The night around them was a cold one—he could tell that even though not a millimeter of his flesh was beholden to the elements. His armor told him. It relayed the exact temperature, wind speed, moisture content; it even predicted prevailing weather patterns.

  It also told him that same acrid smell still filled the air. It was so different to the beautiful dew-scented air in the fields and forests outside.

  In fact, this whole city was in contrast to that testament to nature.

  It was such a clinical and cold place. From the soldiers to the buildings to the lack of people walking the streets.

  He shuddered.

  What had happened to these people to turn them into creatures like this? Had it been a single event? Something in their past? One mistake, one war, one assassination? Something that had soured their hearts and kindled their fear and hatred?

  These were deep and heavy thoughts to be entertaining whilst conducting one of the most important missions of his career, but he couldn't stem them.

  They kindled within.

  This sense that something wasn't right, that something wasn't fair.

  Cara kept leading him forward, pausing at all the right moments and waving him on when the coast was clear.

  They made their way to a tall, dark building a block away.

  This far out from the Central Security Facility, there were fewer guards, though his scanner did still pick up the occasional soldier here and there.

  Again Carson wanted to ask where they were going and what they were doing, but he knew he had to trust Cara.

  This part of the plan was down to her.

  She knew the streets, she knew the soldiers, she knew how the government worked, and frankly, he was just a boy from the future hopelessly out of his depth.

  Well, not completely out of his depth; he could fight. The Academy had taught him that.

  But though he couldn't appreciate it in that moment, the Academy had not taught him how to fight like a Vexian.

  Chapter 14

  Cadet Nida Harper

  She was continuously aware of the gun strapped around her thigh. Its weight, its shape, everything.

  As soon as Carson and Cara had left with the group of resistance fighters, Varo had led her to another room.

  He said it was for her safety.

  He said it would be the best place for her, should the 'Goddess' change reality around her.

  Nida took that to mean should the entity corrupt.

  Varo had taken a select group of m
en with him, and they all walked behind Nida, Varo in the front.

  She didn't know what to feel.

  But one thing was for sure—she did not and could not feel secure.

  Her left hand kept twitching up and down, but this time it wasn't the entity displaying its control—it was pure and simple apprehension.

  She wanted Carson to be back so badly it actually hurt.

  Her shoulders were perpetually rounded, her back so stiff it sent a shooting pain down her hips and middle.

  Come on, she kept begging him in her thoughts. Come back to me.

  In many ways it was a truly pathetic thing to think. But in all ways she didn't care.

  She just couldn't take being separated.

  It was a palpable, agonizing ache.

  A few times she'd wondered whether she should pluck out the gun, stun Varo and his men, and just make a dash for the Central Security Facility and Carson.

  Of course she didn't though—as that would be suicide. But the point was, she couldn't shake the desire to do something.

  Something. Anything.

  Because right now it felt like she was walking blindly into a trap.

  ‘You'll be safe with us,’ Varo said again, not bothering to turn to her.

  His voice was unquestionably kind.

  And yet it made her itch.

  She took a steadying breath, but unfortunately it could not steady her nerves.

  Instead, she clutched a hand to her top, feeling through the fabric until her fingers brushed against the hard bump of her implant.

  In a surge she thought of going back to Carson.

  Yet before she could actually do anything, the entity bloomed in her mind. That presence. That warmth.

  It spread through her.

  Forcibly calming her nerves.

  ‘You will be fine,’ the entity whispered in her mind, its slow and gentle words flowing through Nida and washing away any trace of fear. ‘Follow my lead. I will take you home.’

  With that, Nida's shoulders loosened, practically drooping as if she'd lost all control over them.

  Varo noted the move, briefly turning to stare at her with a crumpled brow. ‘What is it, touched?’

  She hated being called that. Of course she did. Touched? It was seriously creepy.

  ‘Nida?’ He now used her name.