Ouroboros 1: Start Page 3

  Yet she couldn't stop herself.

  Her fingers were drawn towards it.

  Then, as she turned her face up to look at that beautiful smiling statue, she touched it.

  She stood there for a second before anything happened.

  Her fingers registered no heat. In fact, her fingers registered nothing at all. It was as if she wasn't touching anything. As if the blue orb was nothing but a hologram.

  Then something happened.

  She heard a crack, almost like a rip in space.

  Then something slammed into her chest and forced her backwards.

  It had more force than anything she had ever felt.

  As soon as her head struck the floor, she lost consciousness.

  But just before she did, she thought she saw a blue light bursting out of that globe and rushing down towards her.

  It sunk into her chest as her mind turned black.

  Chapter 2

  Carson Blake

  Well that had been a waste of time. Though he had been excited at finding that staircase, it hadn't led anywhere. Through a couple of hallways and to a few empty rooms, sure, but he certainly hadn't found what he was looking for.

  Still, it was interesting that the stairwell hadn't appeared on the blueprints. Before the mission had come down to this planet, their ship in orbit, the Orion, had done an extensive survey. In fact, this planet had already been mapped by several other teams. And none of them had ever located this staircase.

  So of course he'd been hopeful when that awkward cadet had mentioned she’d found it.

  But the reality was it didn't contain any secrets. Just cold stone walls and sparse, empty rooms.

  He indulged in another sigh as he walked up the last step and stood on the dusty surface of the planet.

  Commander Sharpe was beside him, holding the scanner and checking over the results. “Nothing interesting, I'm afraid,” he said curtly.

  Blake hardly needed the report; he'd been there. But he nodded politely anyway.

  “I guess this planet really doesn't have any secrets any more.,” Blake managed as he tipped his head back and looked at the glorious night sky above. You could see every damn star, every constellation even. If he’d had the time, he would have sat back to enjoy the view.

  He didn't.

  They'd already been down here long enough, and they had absolutely nothing interesting to show for their efforts.

  It was time to head back to the ship.

  “It's not a complete loss,” Sharp tried from his side.

  Blake had to smile at that.

  Sharpe was not a compassionate man. He could in no way be referred to as nice. In fact, he was the terror of the Academy. Back when Blake had been a fresh, new cadet, he’d unfortunately had a few run-ins with Sharpe. But now the two of them got on well. Though Sharpe was hard on the surface, if you earned his respect, he was your friend for life.

  “Yeah, sure, we got a couple of mineralogical surveys,” Blake quipped.

  “And a broken scanner,” Sharpe added with a sigh. “Cadet Nida Harper is the worst recruit in 1000 years, I swear. I have never come across someone as incompetent.”

  “You mean the woman who found the staircase?”

  Sharp sighed laboriously. “Yes, that’s the one.”

  Blake smiled.

  It was clear from the overwrought frustration twisting through Sharpe’s tone that he had problems with Cadet Harper. And Blake felt very sorry for the woman.

  “She found the staircase though, and that’s something. Even though there was nothing down there, it is interesting that it didn't appear on any of the scans,” Blake said, feeling he should try to defend her, even though he didn’t know her at all.

  “That's a particularly charitable description of events, Carson. By the sounds of it, she was walking along, not looking where she was going, and she tripped down those stairs. That's hardly a fact to be proud of,” Sharpe shot back.

  Blake just chuckled under his breath.

  They were heading back to the compound, and though the night wasn't completely pitch black, considering the stars cape above, they still had to navigate by the light of Sharpe’s scanner.

  While the scanner threw out bright light, wherever its illumination could not reach, it only served to make the shadows longer and darker.

  If Blake hadn't already seen the reports confirming this planet was completely devoid of life, he would have been sure to survey his surroundings far more carefully. He would have also taken some proper armour down to this planet.

  But as it was, it was clear this place no longer had any secrets.

  This mission had been a wild goose chase to begin with, and nobody would be particularly surprised he hadn't found anything down here. Still, it was disappointing to go back empty handed.

  “Ready to get back to the Academy?” Sharpe asked perceptively from his side.

  “Something like that,” Blake said.

  Then something caught his eye.

  A dark lump of a shadow about 10 meters to his left.

  “Come on,” Sharpe mumbled over his shoulder as Blake slowed down.

  “Hold on,” Blake took several steps towards the shadow, his eyes narrowing.

  Then he took several more steps, and then another.

  Slowly he realised it wasn't an ordinary shadow; the closer he got, the more the dark shape resolved into the hunched form of a human being.

  He ran the last several meters, sliding to his knees when he reached it.

  As he scrambled around in front of the body, he realised it was Cadet Harper.

  She had a particularly memorable head of messy dark hair. And right now, that hair was splayed around her, covering her cheeks and arms and back.

  “Cadet, are you alright?” he snapped as he reached her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.

  She didn't move and she didn't answer.

  “Sharpe, get that scanner over here,” Blake barked as he checked to see if she was alive.

  “What is it?” Sharpe ran up. He dropped to one knee. Then his eyes practically bulged out of his head. “Harper,” he moaned, “what the hell has she done to herself?” He brought the scanner to his face, typed something into it, then huffed. “One broken rib, a concussion, a sprained ankle, and several cuts and abrasions,” he quickly answered his own question, letting out a relieved sigh as he did.

  Even though Sharpe clearly did not get on well with Cadet Harper, the man was responsible for every recruit under his command, and Blake knew he cared for them all, even the crappy ones.

  “So she is alive, then?” Blake found himself confirming needlessly.

  Sharpe gave a hard nod. “Yes, she is, but she is going to have one hell of a headache when she wakes up.” Then he leaned right down to Harper's ear. “Harper,” he shouted.

  She stirred slightly.

  “Harper,” Sharpe snapped again.

  Blake watched as she slowly blinked her eyes open.

  For the briefest of seconds, he fancied he saw a light flashing deep in her pupils. But he dismissed it.

  Because it was impossible. Nothing more than a trick of the dazzling starlight above.

  Even though he didn't know the woman, he let out his own breath of relief and shifted back, removing his hand from her shoulder.

  She tried to sit up, but immediately groaned and latched a hand to her chest.

  “You have broken your rib,” Sharpe noted with disdain. “Given yourself a concussion, sprained your ankle, and sustained numerous cuts and abrasions. What exactly happened?”

  She stared at Sharpe, her lips parted gently, her eyes out of focus. Then she shook her head.

  “She is confused,” Blake said quietly to Sharp. “Let's just get her back to the cruiser. Once the doctor has checked over her on the Orion, you can question her then.”

  “Question her? Who am I kidding? I don’t need to question her to know what happened,” Sharpe pushed a breath through his clenched teeth. “She fel
l over. She is a basket case. She’s in the infirmary every other day for scrapes and bruises,” he added as Blake got to his feet.

  One broken rib, a concussion, and a sprained ankle from falling over? Blake doubted it, but then again, he didn't know Harper.

  From the brief interaction he'd had with her, she did appear to be pretty clumsy and awkward though, so maybe she could injure herself that much by simply tripping over a stone.

  She tried to get up on her own, but quickly fell flat on her butt when she put weight on her ankle.

  “Here, I’ll give you a hand,” Blake offered as he leaned down and helped her up by the shoulders.

  “I'm fine,” she squeaked in a high-pitched voice.

  “You are not fine,” Sharpe noted curtly. “Now get back to the cruiser before you trip over and lop your head off.”

  She let out a little sigh, then hobbled forward.

  Blake pushed his shoulder into her, supporting her as best he could. When he offered to pick her up, considering how slow her progress was, she squeaked a no.

  Soon enough they made it back to the compound, and several people walked over to see if they were okay.

  When the rest of the team asked what was wrong, and Sharpe blatantly pointed out that nothing was wrong, and Cadet Harper had just fallen over again, his comment was met with several knowing laughs.

  Blake felt Harper tense against his shoulder, and she shook her head slightly.

  “I'm fine,” she said one last time, now pushing away from his grip.

  Though she swayed, she stood, and he watched as she stared solidly at the ground, ignoring everyone as they continued to laugh at her.

  Again, he found himself feeling sorry for her.

  Okay, so she didn't exactly seem to be Galactic Coalition Academy material, but she’d just injured herself badly, and surely deserved people's sympathy.

  Instead, Sharpe snapped at her to get to the cruiser.

  Soon Cadet J’Etem came rushing up to Harper to give her a hand.

  J’Etem was stunning. She was Barkarian, and she was beautiful from her lustrous blond hair to her plush purple lips.

  She smiled down at Cadet Harper, and the two of them leaned on each other as they made it over to the cruiser.

  Well. Hadn’t this been of royal waste of time.

  Not only had Blake found nothing at all, but one of the cadets had injured herself too.

  Dipping his head back, he forced a steeling breath as he stared up at the stars above.

  This planet was meant to hold secrets. That’s why he was here. Though he didn’t know the full story—as his superiors hadn’t deemed to share it—his mission brief was to search this barren rock for any signs of the civilisation that had once existed here.

  Though it wasn’t unusual to be sent on missions were his superiors only partly told him what was going on, he really felt like this was a wild goose chase.

  What the heck was meant to be down here that could garner the full attention of the Force?

  Barbarian warriors? Powerful alien weapons? Some spatial anomaly?

  Well, currently he’d found nothing but dust.

  And more dust.

  Feeling despondent and downright disappointed, Carson quickly made his way back to the shuttle.

  Occasionally he glanced over to see Cadet J’Etem administering to Cadet Harper.

  Harper seemed okay now, and smiled and chatted with her friend, but occasionally she would get a far-off look in her eyes, and her brow would crease with worry.

  He wanted to know what had happened, how exactly she had fallen and hurt herself that badly, but before he'd been able to ask, the rest of his team had distracted him.

  Plus, Blake had bigger problems to worry about. He always did.

  Chapter 3

  Cadet Harper

  “Holy crap, I am late again,” she realised as she sat up straight in her bed, her pillow bouncing out from underneath her and slamming onto the soft carpet below.

  She glanced over at the holographic clock in the corner, and swore.

  Jesus Christ, she had slept in by an hour. A whole fricking hour.

  Her alarm was blaring, and somehow she had managed to snooze through it, even though it sounded like a red alert klaxon in her ear.

  She raced over to the alarm, waved her hand above it, and instantly it cut out.

  Then she swore even more as she threw off her clothes, grabbed her uniform from a pile on the ground, and clambered into it.

  God, she had already missed half of her morning’s lecture. And unfortunately for her, the lecture was being run by none other than Commander Sharpe.

  Her nemesis. A man who hated her and wanted nothing more than to kick her out of the Academy.

  Great.

  Now he would have yet another reason to reprimand her.

  Once she was done dressing, she ran her fingers through her matted, black, compact curls, and grabbed a simple clip off her bedside table. She wrestled her hair into some kind of bun, clasped it, and ran out of her bedroom door.

  She reached the kitchen, chugged down a glass of water, patted her lips, and headed for the door.

  The room was a mess.

  It was always a mess.

  Though she did genuinely try to keep it clean, her flat mate—Cadet Alicia Arquette—only ever bothered to help when they had guests coming around.

  Beyond the immediate mess though, it was a lovely apartment. And it had the best view. It was halfway up one of the numerous high-rise blocks that were scattered around the Academy's main grounds, and if you stood at the plate glass windows that occupied one wall, you could see all the way over the city to the ocean far beyond. It glittered there, a sliver of tantalising blue.

  Blue.

  For some reason the mere thought of that colour jogged something in her memory, but she couldn't recall exactly what.

  She found herself pausing though, just before she anchored her palm onto the panel on the wall by the door.

  Shaking her head, she finally pushed through her reverie, then ran out into the corridor.

  She made double time, heading down to the Academy grounds and her lecture hall as fast as her feet could carry her.

  Then she snuck in the back way, sitting down in one of the chairs in the last row as quietly as she could.

  Though she hoped no one had seen her, she saw Sharpe look up from the lectern far below and narrow his gaze her way.

  Oh boy.

  No doubt, he was pausing to take a mental note to make her life hell after the lecture.

  She locked her teeth, closed her eyes, tipped her head back, and wondered if now was just a good time to quit and cut her losses.

  “As I am sure you are all aware, it takes years of rigorous practice to make full use of your telekinetic implants,” Sharpe continued with the lecture.

  Every member of the Galactic Coalition Academy had a telekinetic implant. Even she did. In fact, she took several seconds to bring her hand up and tap the small, hard device lodged just a few centimetres below the base of her throat.

  She'd remembered being so excited when she'd received it.

  In her mind, she’d hoped it would let her make objects fly across the room, catch cruisers as they fell from the sky, and generally wield the power of a modern god.

  Unfortunately, it wasn't that simple.

  Not only were the implants hard to use, some people simply never got the knack of them.

  And she was one of the unlucky few who had zero talent. Totally zip. Nothing.

  She could do precious little with the implant. She’d been able to pick up a cup with her mind once, but that was it. She had not succeeded in using any of the specialised telekinetic weapons, and she’d certainly never caught a cruiser as it fell from the sky.

  She was, in other words, truly useless.

  “It is rare to find a true master of these implants. Not only does it require years of work, but a natural talent and understanding of the underlying dynamics involve
d,” Sharpe said. “So we are very lucky to have a true master at the Academy.”

  Nida sighed as she continued to tap her implant.

  J’Etem was a marvel when it came to the use of telekinetic power. In fact, nearly every other member of Nida's class had real talent for it.

  Nida, on the other hand, had come to the realisation she would never be able to use her implant properly.

  No matter how many hours of practice she put in, she never improved. Lifting a cup was sure to be the height of her less-than heady success.

  Staring at her hands glumly as she allowed them to rest back on the table, she wondered whether she could just sneak out of the lecture. She was already in trouble, so it would hardly matter if she added a fresh, new mistake to her enormous list of misdemeanour.

  Pressing her lips together, she deliberately tuned out as Sharpe continued lecturing the class on the correct and effective use of their implants.

  She already knew the material anyway. Heck, every recruit did; the rest of her class was simply being politely attentive as Sharpe reminded them yet again how powerful yet dangerous telekinetic implants were.

  She appreciated the point, but it was hardly as if she needed to heed the warning; coffee cups aside, Nida was never going to be able to wield a telekinetic weapon, so there was no point in learning the correct way to use them.

  As she tuned out, her mind wandered over what she had to do for the rest of the day, then she mused about whether there'd be any hotdogs left in the cafeteria after the lunch rush.

  Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a blue flash. The cadet sitting next to her wore one of the standard-issue Academy watches, and had clearly just received a message—hence the sudden pulse of light.

  But even though she saw blue flashes like that every day, this one caught her attention.

  And held it fast.

  A kick of nerves travelled blindingly fast up her back, and she twitched forward as if she'd been struck.

  A memory played at the edge of her mind, toying with her.

  The cadet next to her turned, frowning at her odd behaviour. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  She forced herself to nod, pretending her leg had just cramped. Then she turned around and tried to listen to the lecture.