Ouroboros 4: End Read online

  She had never enjoyed power. Though she had always tried at the Academy, her best efforts had been next to useless.

  So she wasn’t used to the . . . fire that came along with power. The knowledge that you could change your environment if only you tried hard enough, if only you stoked up the fire within until it burnt through all obstacles.

  All of a sudden, she closed her eyes and pressed her right hand over her face.

  ‘No,’ she said aloud.

  This wasn’t her.

  Who cared if she had the power of the entity? Who cared if she could push past it in order to use its energy as her own? Who cared if she could lift a Barbarian into the air with little more than a thought and a wish?

  She wasn’t going to turn into it.

  She would not become the entity.

  She would not sacrifice the lives of others for her goal.

  . . . .

  Or would she?

  She had to save the Coalition, and she had promised Carson she would be prepared to do whatever it would take. And surely that meant sacrificing others.

  . . . .

  Wasn’t that what the entity had done? Albeit on a grander scale?

  She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts from her mind.

  She couldn’t.

  They kept creeping up on her. The more she tried to concentrate on the dark, ominous tunnel around her, the more the immediate situation slipped from her consciousness to be replaced by thoughts of what everything now meant.

  Clutching her hands into fists, she waited for Carson to return. She needed him to come marching back to her side, to pull her forward as they plunged back into the fray. For while she fought, she did not think.

  And maybe that’s the real reason she wanted to keep pushing forward, despite the odds—perhaps that was the only way to hide from the consequences of her newfound power and responsibility.

  As she thought, she swore the shadows deepened around her, she swore the chill of the room ate further and faster into her bones until she shivered and shook.

  It felt like the world was pulling in on her, as if the universe was somehow condensing into a point.

  ‘Come on,’ she told herself through gritted teeth.

  Though there were no Barbarians in this section of the tunnels—as Carson would never have left her otherwise—she still had to keep her wits about her.

  The thoughts . . . could wait.

  Wait until the situation died down far enough for Nida to truly pause to think about what she was doing, what she had become, and what she’d have to transform into next if she truly wanted to see this through.

  Chapter 2

  Carson Blake

  He hated to leave her, but he couldn’t keep pushing her forward, not when she looked as though she was ready to break.

  Though she had awesome power now, he could tell it cost her every time she used the entity.

  Her face was pallid and drawn from fatigue.

  So he’d made a quick decision—leave her there while he scouted out the immediate tunnels, looking for a place to hide.

  . . . .

  But that was the problem—there was no place to hide down here. Of course there wasn’t. Though the tunnels seemed to go on indefinitely, so did the Barbarian’s desire to capture or kill both him and Nida.

  Carson wasn’t ready to give in though.

  Because there was one option he hadn’t explored yet.

  Contacting the cavalry.

  He knew there must be Coalition ships around—they would still be looking for Nida. Before this insane time-travel journey had begun, Admiral Forest and half the 5th Fleet had been out tracking Nida down after she’d trashed the Academy.

  They would still be out there.

  No time had passed for them.

  Which meant Carson had an option.

  If he could get a message to them, and ride out the Barbarian storm, he could get out of this.

  Though initially he’d thought the two of them could just punch through the Barbarians and get to the Farsight, or steal a Barbarian ship, he now knew it was impossible. Not only was Nida rapidly declining, but he’d underestimated the Barbarians.

  No.

  The only option was to wait for the cavalry.

  Getting them here would be another task though.

  To do that, he had to do the impossible. Though his armor was certainly capable of sending communications, it had a limited range. Plus, the Barbarians were jamming all incoming and outgoing signals.

  But that still left Carson one option: the Farsight. If he could remotely patch his armor into the Farsight’s computers, he could use its coms array to boost the signal from his armor, and hopefully together they could punch through the interference and get a message off.

  So that’s what he was doing right now.

  Hunkered down in one of the tunnels close to the surface, Carson desperately commanded his armor as he shot at any Barbarian that rounded the corner.

  He was ensconced in a wide room that was completely filled with rubble and debris. From gun casings to abandoned armor units, there was nowhere to sit.

  He didn’t have to get comfortable though—he just had to get this message off.

  So he spent the next five minutes doing just that. They were some of the most pressured seconds of his life. As he stood there with his back pressed up against a ruined wall, he kept sending commands to his armor—instructing it on how to remotely access the Farsight—whilst he defended his position.

  With every passing moment, the fight grew more and more intense, and the corresponding split in his attention—between thought and action—more painful. Sweat caked his brow, his veins thrummed in his throat, and his eyes were soldered so far open, the skin surrounding them could have cracked and crumbled.

  His body ached, but his mind ached harder.

  . . . .

  And yet, he did it.

  Somehow, just as two enormous Mascars rounded the corner blasting away with heavy-duty pulse rifles, he gained access to the Farsight and sent the message.

  For a split second relief washed over him, then so did a cloud of rubble as the Mascars destroyed the ceiling above.

  They did not pause for thought or reason, they just aimed at the ceiling and let loose with a relentless volley of fire until they obliterated it, sending a hail of dust and stone raining down on them all.

  Carson ducked down automatically, punching to his feet just as his roll brought him over the rocky ground.

  Once he stood, he did not pause: he powered forward, right at the far wall.

  It was pockmarked, but it was still solid.

  Yet he ran right at it.

  As he did, he brought up his own gun, thumbed the setting to its highest, and shot the wall at the last moment.

  A super-heated charge lanced from his gun, powering into the wall and turning a whole section to nothing but vapor.

  He rolled right through the opening.

  He’d already used his scanners to ascertain there was a room on the opposite side, and he jumped right into it, flipped, and headed for the closest door.

  Now he’d done the impossible in calling the cavalry, it was time to get back to Nida.

  Though she was incredibly strong, and seemed capable of drawing on reserves deep within her, she was still just human. Like him, she couldn’t keep pushing on forever.

  And to think she could, would just get her killed.

  He’d deliberately left her in a section of tunnels far away from the current battle, and as he powered forward through the tunnel before him, he checked to see that she was still there.

  Though his scanners didn’t work perfectly down here, he’d already got them to tag her, so he narrowed in on her location easily.

  With a sigh that didn’t make it out of the confines of his helmet, he realized she was still alone, still standing, and clearly still alive.

  Still, he didn’t let up—he pushed himself as fast as he could go until he reached
her.

  Though he faced considerable Barbarian resistance, he managed to leave them far behind as he pushed deeper and deeper into the tunnels and closer and closer to Nida.

  Though now really wasn’t the time to ponder it, these tunnels were incredible. They just kept going. Twisting and curling like the tail of a coiled snake. You would round one corner to find yet another hallway stretching out beyond you, branching off into yet more and more tunnels.

  They just seemed to stretch on forever. And though the rational part of Carson’s mind knew that was impossible, the past few weeks of his life had taught him reason couldn’t always hold out. He’d been backwards and forwards through time, battling a race hell bent on saving themselves, and an entity from another dimension hell bent on fixing its mistakes of the past.

  Still, one day, if everything calmed down, maybe he’d like to explore these tunnels. That was the primary remit of the Academy after all—it trained soldiers, yes, but primarily explorers. He loved chancing upon new planets, new cultures, new forms of life.

  But there was no time for exploration now. In a few weeks, maybe. Now, however, there was only time for action.

  He kept his scanners locked on her, until finally he rounded the same corridor she was in, and let an enormous, rattling sigh punch through his chest. He wanted to scream her name, race to her side, and fold his arms around her. He wanted to pull her closer than he’d ever pulled anyone before.

  Because she was different.

  Cadet Nida Harper was so very different. And he loved her for it.

  This crazy adventure might have given him reason to abandon logic, but it had also given him something he had never expected to find.

  A different kind of love.

  Okay, he knew it sounded sappy, but he didn’t care.

  He felt something between them that he’d never even realized was possible. Maybe it was just the heightened tension and expectation of a relationship formed under pressure, or maybe it was more.

  Something he couldn’t define. Something his mind couldn’t simplify into words. Yet something he could feel with every gram of his being.

  So when he saw her standing there, he couldn’t help himself.

  He ran right up to her and pulled her into a hug.

  She let him.

  Though her face paled with shock at his sudden appearance, it soon softened.

  He couldn’t help but let out a relieved laugh. Though he really wanted to follow up on that relief by kissing her, he wasn’t going to risk taking off his helmet. Things appeared quiet in this tunnel, but a good soldier knew that appearance offered little safety.

  So he just pulled away, pushing his fingers across her cheeks as he did.

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide with focus, but that tired tinge to her skin obvious in the dark pool under her lashes and the pale touch to her cheeks. She looked as if she’d been fighting for a week.

  ‘What happened? What did you find out?’ she asked.

  He kept pushing his armored fingers and thumb across her cheek, watching her skin dimple with the move, but unable to feel it.

  ‘Coalition,’ he said simply.

  He watched her eyes draw narrow in confusion. ‘What?’

  ‘The cavalry are coming.’

  Chapter 3

  Cadet Nida Harper

  The cavalry were coming?

  . . . .

  The Coalition?

  Maybe he saw the disbelief flickering in her gaze because in a slow, deliberate move he pointed a finger towards the ceiling. 'They are coming.'

  For a second she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t say anything. She couldn’t think anything.

  Then the emotions and thoughts flooded in all at once, and she took a shuddering step back.

  . . . .

  This was it.

  If Carson was right, and the cavalry really were coming, soon this episode of their adventure would be over.

  And the next would begin.

  Though she’d spent the last few days in preparation for this moment, now she wasn’t ready.

  She had no idea what the Coalition would do. She’d trashed the Academy med bay, initiated an Endgame Maneuver, and stolen a light cruiser which she’d later written off in a Barbarian attack.

  Nerves punched through her.

  What would they do once they found her? Embrace her with open arms, or throw her into the brig, or, worse—the Jupiter Substation?

  Despite the clamor of battle and the tension still clinging to the air, she couldn’t help but fear what would come next.

  She’d thought getting here and getting through the tunnels would be the hard part.

  She was wrong.

  Her labors were beginning anew.

  Even if she made it out of here alive, it would be up to the Coalition what they did with that life.

  Chapter 4

  Carson Blake

  This was it.

  They were coming.

  His armor could pick them up.

  Yet he didn’t know whether to feel elation, or fear, or a heady mix of both.

  Though the Coalition was coming, they still had to fight their way through the Barbarians. And if felt like hell not to run up to the surface of Remus 12 to help them.

  He wanted to be up there helping. No, he needed to be.

  Like it or not, he’d inadvertently given the Vex all the information they needed on the Coalition. From detailed weapons capability to battle formations, he had given the Vex an edge.

  He’d made a mistake. By not being able to pick that simulation for what it was, and allowing the Vex to glean his secrets, he had directly led to the Coalition’s downfall.

  Yet now he was in the past with the ability to fix that mistake before his beloved Coalition could fall, it felt like hell to just stand here and wait.

  He couldn’t leave her though. And while she could keep fighting, she wouldn’t last long. Even standing in this room with no Barbarians to take down, her sharp, panting breath echoed around the walls.

  He could leave her and head out to the fight on his own—technically he could walk out of this room, pick up his gun, and keep going.

  Emotionally he couldn’t.

  He’d left her behind before, and it had cost him everything.

  So he bit down on his tongue until he felt blood, using the pain to chase away the guilt of just waiting to be saved.

  And he waited.

  And waited.

  Until finally they came.

  The Coalition.

  His friends.

  They would take them back to Earth. They would fix this.

  As he realized the battle was over—his armor tracking the movements of the Coalition vessels and their communications—his heart soared.

  Soon, however, it would sink.

  Chapter 5

  Cadet Nida Harper

  It took her a long time to realize it was over. Even though Carson took a step towards her, and whispered those three words in a hoarse voice, she couldn’t believe him.

  She could barely hear him over the roar of her heart and the constant ringing in her ears.

  Then she saw them. The dust billowing in great clouds around their bodies as they walked forward.

  Soldiers.

  The Coalition.

  Dear god, they really were here.

  She didn’t know whether she wanted to rush forward and hug the first soldier she saw, or slink back into the shadows hoping they wouldn’t see her.

  . . . .

  What would they do to her?

  That question was in her mind and on her lips as they walked in.

  Dark figures in a dark room, the only reason she could see them was the faint glow that still blessed her hand. Without it, she would have only been aware of their footfall—slow, deliberate, heavy steps coming her way.

  ‘Christ,’ Carson spat as he rushed forward, his helmet receding into his collar with a near-silent hiss.

  She could only see the side
of his face, but even that small slice of his cheek and nose showed his elation.

  He was home.

  . . . .

  And so was she, right?

  She was about to go back to Earth, and together, they would fix this.

  . . . .

  Yet if that was the case, why did she feel as if she was running away from her home? Why did she feel as if she was about to make the biggest mistake of her life?

  As she stood there, as stiff and cold as a statue carved from ice, she inexorably turned her attention to the entity.

  Deep within her bones, she could feel its slow dance. Though she had used so much of its energy to fight the Barbarians, she could still feel more.

  It felt endless, like a well reaching through the universe itself, tapping some deep reserve no one else could access.

  Yet at the same time, she felt the guilt. The more she drew from that well—the more she relied on the entity’s power—the more guilt bled into her.

  That’s what she felt now. As she questioned whether she should go home, she knew the thoughts came from the entity.

  Again those questions came back to assail her.

  Even now as the Coalition came to save her, she couldn’t push them from her mind.

  . . . .

  It was calling out to her, begging her not to leave, not to take away its one chance at redemption.

  Even though the telekinetic implant kept it away from her behind some wall, she was still dimly aware of it—for behind that wall it screamed and screamed and screamed.

  She tried to harden herself against its calls, but it wasn’t that easy any more.

  The more she used it, the more she felt it. And the more she felt it, the more she could not ignore its sorrow.

  So as those Coalition soldiers strode into the room, she had to use all her control and training not to shiver back.

  To the entity, those dark, strong forms meant nothing less than total loss. It knew they would take her and it back to the Coalition, never to return. It knew it would never get another opportunity to help the Vex.

  It knew it was over.

  So it shook. It prayed. It fought. It begged. All at once.