Ouroboros- The Complete Series

by Odette C. Bell

  He took another careful step closer, his hands opening wide, the tingle along his palms begging him to reach up and cradle her shoulders.

  More tears streaked down her cheeks as she pushed her lips together, trying to stop herself from sobbing.

  ‘I'm not going to tell you what to do,’ he repeated once more. ‘I’m going to remind you you already know. This isn't the hardest chapter of our adventure. We’ve faced worse. Remember what you've done so far: you fought the entity, you overcame it, you can control it; you saved us from the Vex, you managed to open up time gates,’ he noted in a shaking tone full of surprise. ‘Remember what you've done, and now apply that to the current situation. There’s no clear solution. This situation isn't black-and-white, but Nida none of this has ever been black-and-white. You can do this,’ he repeated, now in a soft tone, his fight gone. ‘I can help you, if you let me,’ he added in a whisper.

  Her eyes still brimming with tears, she looked up at him sharply. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ she repeated, shaking as she did. ‘I want to save the Vex, yet I don’t want to condemn the Coalition. I don’t know how to do both. I don’t even know if both are possible. I don’t know if destroying Remus 12 will even work, and I don’t know what will happen if the Vex attack. I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t know what I should do,’ she now said in a far stronger tone, her voice ringing on the word should. In fact, it was so powerful that for a moment it appeared as if the entity was taking control once more.

  It wasn’t; it was Nida, her passion ringing true.

  He now closed the distance between them.

  She didn’t jerked backwards, nor did she stare at him warily. In fact, her eyes filled with hope, unmistakable hope.

  He didn’t reach a hand out to caress her cheek, even though his hand wanted to. Instead he stared at her, his gaze direct but as soft as it could be. ‘You do know what to do. You’ve got to press on. Stop doubting yourself. The decision to destroy Vex is out of our hands. They’re going to attempt to do it. If it doesn’t work, and the Vex attack, you know what you’ll do too: you’ll help fight.

  Though at first she looked as if she wanted to shake her head bitterly, she stopped the move halfway through and nodded.

  He finally reached a hand out to her and grasped her shoulder tenderly.

  ‘I wish there was another way,’ she said truthfully as she let her gaze dart away from his eyes and out towards space beyond. ‘I wish there was a way to have it all: to save the Vex and the Coalition. It’s just so sad.’

  Although he wanted to pull her head in and embrace her, he didn’t. Instead he fixed her with a strong look, or at least one he hoped was strong. He stiffened his jaw, pressed his lips hard against one another, and narrowed his eyes until the skin around his temples was tight and wrinkled. ‘Then find one. Look. If anyone can do it, you can.’

  She jerked her gaze back from the window. ‘What?’

  He brought his other hand up and locked it against her shoulder. ‘Nida, if anyone can find a way to save the Vex and the Coalition, it’s you. I trust you,’ he said, his tone soft but sure.

  Her lips were open and wobbling, a flash of white teeth visible underneath.

  She whispered, ‘how?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged. ‘We’ve got a day until we reach Remus 12. If you need any help, I’ll give it to you. Whatever resources you require, I’ll try to get them from Forest. If not, we’ll bootstrap what we can. Nida, we travelled through the past,’ he said in choking surprise, ‘we managed to get away from the Vex, to get to the future and bring this message to the present. That all should have been impossible, but it wasn’t. So maybe this isn’t impossible either. I’m not guaranteeing you can save them. I’m giving you the space to try. And I’ll help you. I’ll help you.’

  He’d come in here wanting to give her direction, intending to use his position as a lieutenant to shock her into behaving. It hadn’t worked out that way. And maybe that was a good thing, because Nida was losing her angry defiant edge.

  As she stood there, she looked exactly like herself. The blue light of the entity was only the softest glow around her palm, and there was no hint of its control in her voice nor of its shame shadowing her expression. It was her, and it was great to have her back.

  He kinked one lip up and smiled.

  He should probably have taken the opportunity to hammer home his message, to ensure she understood him. He didn’t. Instead he looked at her.

  She slowly parted her lips. ‘Try to save the Vex? I . . .’ she trailed off, her gaze again darting off him, but this time settling on the carpet behind. Her eyes became slightly unfocused, and it was clear she began to think hard.

  He kept his hands on her shoulders, trying to support her physically, not because she couldn’t stand on her own, but because it was the only thing he could do.

  Maybe he didn’t really believe she could save the Vex, and maybe he was a cruel person for dangling that hope in front of her. But he couldn’t deny the effect it was having on her: she was back. She wasn’t pacing the floor, succumbing to the entity, or shouting at the Admiral. It was Nida, in all her calm, klutzy glory.

  And he’d have no one else.

  ‘Sharpe told me I was a useless cadet but a damn good officer,’ she suddenly blurted.

  Carson blinked back his surprise. ‘He did?’

  One of her eyebrows pushed down as the other arched up. ‘He did,’ she nodded emphatically, ‘he told me the Academy doesn’t test grit and resolve and stamina, and that I have all three,’ she said in a thoughtful tone.

  Carson just swallowed his words and waited.

  ‘He said I was the type to keep pushing on no matter the odds until I found a solution. And he said that was the one quality that mattered most in space, that set apart the brave and arrogant from the successful.’

  Carson didn’t know what to say.

  ‘I’m not sure if I believe him,’ Nida admitted slowly as she clearly sifted through her thoughts. She brought her left hand up and stared at it, ‘but he’s right about one thing: I don’t give up. I never quit the Academy, even though I should probably have done so the first day I got there. I don’t like to quit,’ she admitted softly.

  Again, he had no idea what to say, so he simply stood there, listened, and watched.

  ‘I’m not sure we can save the Vex. No,’ she suddenly stopped herself, her cheeks paling, ‘that’s a lie: there is some way to save the Vex,’ her tone stiffened. Before he could worry it was the entity taking control, she pushed her lips into a smile. ‘That’s not the entity talking, Carson, that’s me. I just feel . . .’ she lifted her hand to tap her chest, ‘that there must be some way to save them. And you’re right, maybe it’s up to me to look. I can’t ask the Coalition to . . . ’ she trailed off.

  He put up a hand and muttered, ‘I understand you don’t need to say it.’ He did understand; she was talking about the destruction of Remus 12. He didn’t need her to say it and anger the entity. Plus, he wanted her to muddle her way through her thoughts, to come to whatever conclusion she was steadily marching towards. Because as she drew closer, she opened. She softened. She became herself once more, and his heart sang as he watched it.

  ‘I can’t ask the Coalition to sacrifice itself for this,’ she suddenly said with calm clarity. ‘I know that now, and I’m sorry for pushing you,’ she muttered.

  His eyes actually moistened with tears and he watched her with a still, silent expectation that nonetheless ensnared his gut and clawed up his back.

  Suddenly he was hopeful they could make it through this. Though he hadn’t let himself pray for that possibility before, now maybe she could forgive him.

  It was pretty weird to consider that several weeks ago he’d thought Cadet Nida Harper was nothing more than a strange and seriously awkward curiosity. Now he literally couldn’t imagine his life without her. The possibility they could forgive each other and move on didn’t just make his heart sing, it made it grow fat
and glow as it sent a warm pulse through his chest, arms, and torso.

  Grinding his teeth together, he waited.

  She looked up at him slowly, those luminous pools of brown thankfully devoid of that blue glint and instead shining with her own light. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘you’re a good man, Carson, and I could never have made it this far without you. I’ve been pushing the responsibility of saving the Vex onto everybody else,’ she looked at her left palm again, but her eyes did not linger, ‘I can’t ask the Admiral to stop. I’ve seen what happens in the future when the Vex attack, and we must avoid it at all costs. But,’ she closed her eyes before she continued, ‘I want to look for a way to save them. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I’m going to look.’ She blinked one eye open and looked at him questioningly, as if waiting for him to push away, laugh, or dismiss her.

  He did none of those things. He simply stood there with his hands on her shoulders, and his gaze darted between her eyes.

  He was so happy to have her back. So happy, in fact, that he didn’t quite comprehend the seriousness hardening her gaze. Nor, in fact, the seriousness of her tone.

  If he’d truly listened to what she was saying and appreciated the import behind her words, he’d have understood.

  He was right: she had changed. And more than that, she’d proved through time and space that if she set her mind to something, she achieved it.

  Right now she was setting her mind to saving the Vex.

  He’d already promised to help her, and when it mattered most, she would call on him.

  For now, his gut twitched with a racing kick of nerves as she pushed forward and kissed him.

  He couldn’t say explosions flashed behind his eyes, or that his heart suddenly burst, but it was damn close.

  Relief, so powerful it felt like an ocean tumbling into a point, burst through him.

  With his arms wrapped around her and hers around him, he let that relief expunge the uncertainty, the doubt, the fear.

  It wouldn’t last, but for now, he’d enjoy it.

  Chapter 20

  Cadet Nida Harper

  She hadn't expected that Carson would come find her. But now she was more than thankful of it. He'd helped her to find the clarity she needed so much. He'd helped her to reach the conclusion she'd been drawing inexorably closer to since Sharpe had spoken to her.

  She wasn't sure whether she could save the Vex, but she couldn't ask anybody else to shoulder the burden of trying.

  Maybe it was because the entity resided within her, and she alone felt its true guilt. Or maybe it was something else. But Nida now understood this burden, this destiny, had to rest with her alone.

  Not only had the Admiral's words touched her when she'd spoken of failed responsibility weighing you down for the rest of your life, but Nida had come to her own quiet understanding too.

  Carson had helped her when he'd stumbled his way into her room only to stiffen his shoulders, cross his arms and snap at her to pull herself together, it had worked.

  This was her story, her responsibility. Though Carson had been called away, and she now sat alone at the end of her bed, she no longer felt cold and confused. In fact, she was warm for the first time since they'd arrived back in the present. She was warm and strangely she felt safe.

  Secure in the conclusion she'd made. She was going to try to save the Vex. But even though that gave her clarity and a sense of much needed calm, she couldn't allow herself to leave it at that. Now the true work would begin.

  How on earth could she save them? Granted, she had the power of the entity, but the entity had been trying to save the Vex for countless iterations of its cursed timeline. It had tried over and over again, ensnaring numerous galactic races and absorbing their technology in a desperate attempt to find any solution it could.

  If the entity, with all of its power and all of its opportunities, had not been able to save the Vex, how could she do it?

  Her stress threatened to mount once more, but she pushed it away. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and reminded herself of the warmth within.

  She could do this. She would do this.

  She pushed herself up from her bed and started to pace before her windows. With her arms locked behind her back, she stared at space—the stars streaking by in a mess of color and light. They reminded her of those terrifying visions the entity had given her back on earth.

  She would stand on Remus 12 as the stars literally fell from the sky, pushing towards her, collapsing into one point as reality crumbled.

  The entity once led her to believe that unless she helped it, it would corrupt space. It had lied; everything it had done to her had been a manipulation to force Nida to help the Vex.

  She had every right to turn from it, but she couldn’t.

  She would help it despite what it had done to her.

  Though Bridget had accused her of not understanding and appreciating what the Coalition stood for, perhaps Nida understood what the Coalition meant more than anyone else. Sharpe had reminded her of that fact when he’d bolstered her back on earth: the Coalition did what was right.

  Carson was correct, and what was right was not always black-and-white, but that didn’t stop you from pushing through a situation, analyzing it from every angle and never giving up until you found the most moral opportunity provided to you.

  It was hard, it was fatiguing, but Nida had the stamina to push on and do just that.

  So she didn’t give up. She paced in front of those windows, narrowing her gaze and staring at the streaking starlight beyond.

  She pushed her mind into her memories: Vex, Remus 12, the entity, everything that had happened to her.

  Occasionally, she would bring up her left hand and stare at it, inspecting the TI.

  She’d already looked up the medical reports on it, hoping whatever was within would somehow give her a clue on how to solve this most monumental of problems.

  She kept going back to the fact that if the entity couldn’t save the Vex, how could she hope to do it?

  She didn’t give up though. Instead she concentrated and applied herself, pulling up various data pads and accessing the holo console in her desk.

  She worked tirelessly.

  She went through Carson’s reports and everything the Academy database had on Remus 12. She fastidiously studied them.

  Her desk soon becoming a mess of various holograms as she shifted through them, panning for understanding like an old miner panning for gold.

  As time ticked on, the hours marching by, her tension built. The closer they came to Remus 12, the more she could feel the situation coming to a head. Every point of this story, was now coiling in on itself like a snake ready to bite its own tail.

  She didn’t give up, though, neither did she sleep. In fact, she barely ate. She concentrated her whole attention on the task.

  Maybe she’d never been the best at study, but maybe she’d never been equipped with Sharpe’s observation that stamina and grit and the will to continue no matter the odds were the most important qualities in the universe.

  She held onto that, and she continued until finally, finally they reached Remus 12.

  She felt it long before the Chronos jumped out of hyper speed, the stars suddenly coming to a jolting stop outside her window. In fact, she stood with her hands pressed against the glass just as the Chronos exited its priority transport route and appeared before the barren world of Remus 12. With her lips parting open and her eyes fixed on the view, she stared at that world.

  She felt the entity moving within. It writhed up her hand, threatening to push against the TI. She wouldn’t let it, and with barely any force and only half a mind, she could hold it back.

  She used the rest of her attention to concentrate on that barren world beyond. The softly spinning, dusty brown orb of Remus 12—Vex.

  She was at once reminded of the first time she’d seen it from space. All those weeks ago, on her first mission to the planet, Nida had been overwh
elmingly excited. Of course she had been; it had been her first interstellar mission. As the worst recruit in 1000 years, she’d conjured the hope it could be a turning point in her less than illustrious career.

  Well, it had been a turning point. Such a grand turning point had rarely been imagined, in fact.

  She was now so very different to the Nida that had stared upon Remus 12 several months ago. She had changed in more ways than she could count, but there was one important similarity that remained: she still had the same will to push on,

  And push on she would.

  Though it was hard, she took a step back, her hand falling from the glass. Her eyes didn’t blink while they fixed on that picture of Remus 12. It was as if they were tracing it into her memory like a carver etching into stone.

  Though she’d studied for hours on end and had sifted through more information than she’d studied in her entire career at the Academy, she was technically no closer to finding a solution. She couldn’t shake the feeling there was one out there, though. She just knew that within her was the miracle she so desperately sought.

  Time was running out, though. They had barely hours to destroy Remus 12 before it realigned with their own timeline.

  She was no longer questioning what she’d do if the Vex did survive to attack. She would fight.

  Carson was right about that bit. In fact, she should never have questioned that fact. She would not let that condemned race condemn her own. She wouldn’t let the entity’s mistake poison any more races.

  She would end it here.

  Now.

  And yet she still didn’t have a solution.

  She wanted more than anything to talk to Carson, to see him, to hold him again.

  Now they’d resolved their troubles, he was back to being her rock. His mere presence could make everything make sense.