Ouroboros 4: End

All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A Galactic Coalition Academy Series

End

Book Four of Ouroboros

Copyright © 2014 Odette C Bell

Cover art stock photo: Alien invasion © breaker213. Licensed through Depositphotos.

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END

BOOK FOUR OF OUROBOROS

Cadet Nida Harper

She didn’t have the luxury of letting him wake slowly.

She could hear them now.

The Barbarians.

She ducked her head low until her lips pressed close to the side of his helmet. ‘Carson, wake up. Wake up,’ she continued.

He was rousing, but it was slow.

Too slow.

With every passing second, more ominous noises filtered into their small room.

The ground shook, the ceiling rained dust down upon them, and somewhere beyond the narrow, dark halls that surrounded her, she could hear the whirr of engines.

They weren’t prepared for this. When they’d left their vessel, they hadn’t taken their equipment with them. Sure, Carson had his armor and guns, but they didn’t have any of the heavier weapons.

Though she’d been offered armor on multiple occasions, she’d refused.

She didn’t like the idea of an inorganic carapace covering her body. It wasn’t just claustrophobia talking; she didn’t know how it would interfere with the entity, or how the entity could interfere with it. She couldn’t run the risk of putting armor on, only for the entity to overcome the amour’s computer and control it and her in the process.

So she was relatively undefended.

Relatively being the operative word there.

. . . .

Though she’d just opened a time gate and was pallid with fatigue, she could still fight.

She could call on the power of the entity.

But she couldn’t do it alone.

‘Come on, Carson, come on,’ she begged.

He groaned.

Every time they went through the time gates, it affected them, but she didn’t have the time for Carson to rouse naturally.

She grabbed him by his armored shoulders, her fingers slipping off the perfectly smooth surface. ‘Carson, please,’ she hissed.

‘ . . . Nida?’ he finally mumbled her name.

‘Yes, Carson, come on. The Barbarians are coming.’

He didn’t move.

Then he bolted to his feet, or at least he tried to.

After a stumble, he managed to stand though.

She saw him shift his neck to the side quickly, and realized he was likely commanding his armor to fill his bloodstream with stimulants—with anything it had that would see him wake up and be ready to fight.

She just waited by his side.

With every passing second, the ceiling shook more and more.

It wasn’t just dust falling down to brush against her cheeks now. It was chunks of stone. She ducked to the side, bringing her arms protectively over her head.

She heard a stone hit her device, bouncing off with a clunk as it tumbled to the ground.

Carson stood there for a few moments, clearly blinking himself awake.

She moved close, in case he would need her for support, but soon enough he made two tight fists, shook his head, and pointed forward.

Relief flooded through her to see him back on his feet, but it was only a measure of relief.

The Barbarians were still here.

Together they made it to the door. Though her skin was rapidly dimming, as the blue light of the entity returned to itself, Carson walked ahead unhindered by the dark.

His armor would not be affected, no matter how deep the shadows became.

As for her, she simply followed in his wake, her eyes wide as they adjusted to the growing gloom.

With every soft step she made, she could hear the ceiling shake more and more violently.

It felt as if the Barbarians were trying to blast their way in, and hey, they probably were.

For all the viciousness of the Vex, and the sheer willfulness of the entity, the Barbarians were on another level altogether.

She could not afford to fall into their hands. Not only would they rip the modified TI device from her wrist and poke at the entity until it roared into life, they would either take Carson or kill him. And both options were as bad as each other.

The Barbarians routinely took slaves. Few Academy members ever fell to them, but of the handful of stories she'd heard, it sounded like a truly horrifying experience.

. . . .

So she would fight them if she had to. She made that decision then and there. She would use the full force of the entity to push past them if it meant saving the Coalition and Carson in the process. Yet she would not act like the entity; she would not fall into the same bottomless pit of hatred and brutality.

Carson stopped, put his hand up, and raised three fingers. He hesitated, then raised another, and another, until soon he had eight fingers held before her.

Though she wasn't the best at combat situations, she knew what he meant. Eight contacts were coming their way.

She was ready for this.

He handed her one of his guns, then pushed back against the wall, motioning for her to do the same with one strong swipe of his armor-clad hand.

Her breath was stuck in her chest. It was pushing up into her throat and neck, and it felt exactly like she was choking.

She didn't make a sound though. Not a sound.

Seconds later, she heard a soft clunking noise filter down the hall, only barely audible under the constant barrage of shakes and blasts from above.

Carson didn't pause; he rammed into her, pulling her to the ground just as he slammed one of his gauntlets over her eyes.

She heard him hiss something as they hit the floor, 'light grenade.'

An enormous explosion shook through the hall, and even over the ringing of her ears, she heard massive stones fall from the ceiling above.

Carson had his body over hers, one hand still locked over her eyes so tight she could see stars exploding through them.

She also felt his armor shake forward as stones struck it. No matter what hit him though, he didn't crumple, and the rocks just glanced off and fell around him.

As the seconds ticked by, they felt like years.

Her ears were filled with a persistent, high-pitched ringing, and when Carson moved his hand from her face, she could barely see. Her vision was just clear enough to note the massive stones that lay all around them however.

Before she could react, or realize how close she'd come to being squashed, Carson pulled her forward.

She had to climb over a stone so big it was practically a boulder. Her skin was already raw, and she cut herself across her thumbs as she maneuvered around the obstruction.

As soon as her shoes hit the ground, he was pulling her forward, one gun held out.

Though her ears still rang and her vision was hooded in shadow, he wouldn't let her fall.

Just as they rounded a corner, Carson pushed back, yanked up his gun, and started shooting.

The Barbarians. They were here.

As Carson shoved her hard into the wall, using the bulk of his armor to shield her, she saw a flash of an enormous form, the glint of yellow eyes, and the glimmer of white tusks.

Her heart pounded so hard in her chest, she could barely keep hold of her gun. Her sweaty fingers kept shaking up and down.

The blasts from Carson's weapon lanced through the dark, lighting up the scene in strange, abstract flashes. She saw the hole in the ceiling, huge and gaping, leading up to the floor above. Then a flash of the Barbarian as its face twisted in rage. Then Carson pouncing forward, rolling, and coming up shooting.

So fast.

So terribly fast.

Despite the break-neck pace, Carson fought undaunted. He thrust forward, he shot, he dodged, and he protected her.

Nida had come a long way since the beginning of her journey. All those weeks ago, she truly had been the worst recruit in 1000 years. But she had come far.

Too far to just stand there and let him do all the work.

She couldn't let him risk himself alone.

Though she wanted to fight, she had enough humility to understand she was still a terrible shot with a gun. She would likely shoot out a chunk of the ceiling and promptly crush herself.

There was one thing she could do however.

Just as Carson pushed forward, shooting one Barbarian as it reached for an electro whip, she saw another pull out of the shadows to their left.

It had clearly been hiding in one of the rooms.

Though Carson's armor might have picked it up, he didn't react quickly enough.

The Barbarian launched forward.

He was huge. Simply huge. He was also wearing armor of his own.

With speed that belied his form, the Barbarian rushed Carson, wrapped its arms around his back, and pulled him off the ground.

At the same moment, another Barbarian rounded the corner and brought up its gun.

Carson's armor was strong, and would be able to withstand great amounts of damage. But it wouldn't keep him safe from everything.

She reacted.

Immediately. On instinct. Without thinking.

She threw her left hand forward, concentrating just as she would if she were commanding a TI object.

Something surged through her wrist and into her fingers.

Power.

Blue light burst from her hand, slamming into both Barbarians and sending them careening down the corridor until they crashed into the far wall.

Carson spun on his feet, but didn't fall over. Instead he pushed out his hands for balance, then, just for a moment, angled his helmet her way.

She had no idea what he was thinking, no idea what expression he wore under that thick black armor.

She didn't have time to ponder it either. As they looked at each other, the ceiling started to cave in.

Huge stones fell down around her in a hail of death.

Carson pitched forward, no doubt intending to throw himself on top of her to use his armor to protect them both.

He didn't have to.

She threw out her hand again, and sent the tumbling ceiling off to the sides of the walls.

It was . . . so strange to be able to move matter like that. TI objects were one thing, but TI objects were specifically engineered. They were also very expensive, and the Coalition kept tight control of them. So they were hardly scattered around your everyday environment.

'Impressive,' Carson said as he walked backwards, still looking at her, then turned to pelt down the corridor.

She smiled.

She followed.

She didn't know if it was impressive; it felt . . . weird, to be honest. But right now it was effective, and that's all she needed.

They had to get out of here.

As they ran down the tunnels, they faced more Barbarians, but together, they pushed through.

In fact, they made a great team. She could hold any Barbarians in place as Carson stunned them.

Yet it couldn't last.

She was getting seriously tired. Every time she used the entity's power, it cost her.

Her fatigue was bone-deep—it ate through her like acid to flesh.

She kept standing though, kept fighting.

Their current plan was to make it through the tunnels and up to the surface. Carson had already confirmed with his sensors that the Farsight was still up there. If they could fight their way to it, then they could finally make it off this cursed planet.

Nida shivered as she thought that.

Remus 12 felt like it haunted her. From her thoughts, to her blood, to her pulsing left hand, she doubted she could ever free herself of it fully.

Yet she had to try. They had to keep pushing on with the plan.

But first, they had to make it through these damn tunnels.

Though she was flagging, Carson was still going strong. He strode forward, ducking, weaving, running, fighting, and always pulling her onwards. It felt like he was a heavy cruiser and she was nothing but a speck of space dust drifting in its wake.

‘We can do this,’ he would tell her whenever the tunnels around them descended into rare moments of silence.

His voice would always echo off the walls and pierce right through her skin into her heart. Without fail they made her shiver. His determination was incredible.

But even Carson with his burning passion couldn’t fight off a whole host of Barbarians. As they kept powering through the tunnels, she could see he was starting to hesitate. Maybe he was picking up on her fatigue, or perhaps the impossibility of the situation was catching up to him.

The Barbarians were a relentless foe, and no matter how many Carson fought, more came snaking through the tunnels with the speed and suddenness of whips cracking in the dark.

As Carson hesitated, he slowed, his once relentless pace dimming like a dying flame.

He paused, turning to her. Though his helmet was still on and set to opaque, she knew what his expression would be. Some compressed mix of concern, worry, and indecision.