She didn't speak.
What on earth could she say?
Commander Sharpe wasn't just rising to her defense, he wasn't just making her feel better—he was completely washing away the opinion she'd always held of herself.
As the weak, terrible, worst Cadet in 1000 years.
Sharpe cleared his throat, again crossing his arms. ‘Like I said, I don't know what they want you for. But, Cadet, go out there and help. Do what is right. Do what I taught you. Do something that'll make us all proud.’
She let her lips drop open.
She was speechless.
Sharpe shook his head. ‘That's where you snap a salute, turn stiffly on your foot, and race out to save the galaxy. We can only teach you how to pass tests down here, how to handle a scanner, how to use your TI. We can't teach you how to save the galaxy. We can only hope that you'll rise to the challenge when you meet it.’
He took a step back, raised his arm, and snapped a perfect salute.
Instinctively, she did the same.
‘You always did snap a bizarrely perfect salute,’ he muttered as he raised an eyebrow and shook his head. ‘I thought that was the only thing you could get right. I was wrong. Now go out and show the galaxy how wrong I was.’ He added in a grumble as he turned.
Without a goodbye, he left.
He left her completely stupefied.
She kept playing over what he'd told her, as if wondering whether it had all been a dream.
But it hadn't.
Sharpe thought she could do this.
More than that, he'd repeated the one thing she needed to hear more than any other.
Go out there and do right.
Go out there and make the rest of the galaxy proud.
As he'd said, down here in the Academy things were clear, up there in reality, they were murky.
There were no clear answers.
If you pushed on, you at least had a chance of finding one.
Giving up would condemn not just the Vex, but the Coalition to the horrible reality of destroying them.
She couldn't give up.
She clutched her left hand into a fist.
It wasn't hard this time, the fingers didn't rake the flesh. It was just determined.
She had to help.
She really didn't think she could march into Admiral Forest's office and tell her not to destroy Remus 12.
But maybe there was another way?
If she accompanied Carson on his mission, maybe she could find it.
She just had to give herself time.
And hope.
The entity had never had hope.
It had forced its way through with violence and anger.
But she was different to it. And she would hold onto that difference.
Nida turned sharply, heading to the docking ring.
Chapter 17
Carson Blake
It was just when he was readying to tell the Admiral that Nida would not accompany them, that she ran into the docking ring.
As always, she practically tripped over the doorway, stumbling on her feet as she righted herself with an awkward smile.
He couldn't hold in his surprise. He turned to her, his cheeks probably as white as a comet's tail. ‘Nida?’ he asked in a shaking tone.
The Admiral was standing right beside him, and he knew he should have the decorum to call Nida a cadet.
Despite what they'd been through, he was still the lieutenant, and she was very much still the cadet.
But his feelings broke through his training.
He even took a shuddering step towards her, lifting a hand and spreading his fingers wide.
Why was she here?
Had she forgiven him?
There was a moment where their eyes met. It didn't last. She looked down sharply, pressed her lips together, and appeared to come to a quick decision. ‘I'm coming,’ she said in a soft tone.
The Admiral crumpled her brow. ‘Yes, you are,’ she said simply. ‘You are late. We are almost ready to depart.’
Nida looked uncomfortable, but didn't say anything.
He couldn't take his eyes off her.
When she'd walked out of his office, he thought it was over.
She was here.
Just as hope rekindled in his heart, something else quickly took it over.
Fear.
She wasn't going to do anything, was she?
She'd already made the fact that she did not want the Vex destroyed absolutely abundantly clear.
He knew the entity still had some kind of effect on her. Would it push through once more to control her?
Was it manipulating her even now, pushing her to usurp the Coalition mission and save Remus 12?
Though they were uncomfortable possibilities to consider, he couldn't stop them from churning through his gut like a violent storm.
As he stared at her, his palms became so cold and sweaty, it was a surprise they didn't ice up and stick to his pants.
The docking ring around them was chaos.
Of course it was, it wasn't every day you had to organize a mission like this. They were planning to destroy the planet, blast it from space.
Even if Carson lived through this, he doubted he would ever face something so perilous again.
The atmosphere in the place was one of only barely controlled panic. People raced forward with slack expressions, pale cheeks, and fidgety movements.
But they were all still doing their jobs.
Because they knew it mattered.
Not many people were ever given the opportunity to serve the Coalition in its hour of maximum need, but all the men and women around him were not shrinking from that responsibility.
And neither was he.
He had to remind himself of that fact as he stared across at her, because guilt once again snaked through his belly.
She seemed to have a hard time looking at him. Instead, she kept flicking her glance from her left hand out towards the rest of the docking ring.
Again fear pelted through him.
He couldn't shake the feeling that the entity still had some kind of insidious control of her.
Should he tell the Admiral?
Yes. That's what a good soldier would do.
In fact, he should have told the Admiral the moment Nida had endured that episode in his office.
He wasn't just shirking his duty by keeping that fact to himself, he was quite possibly endangering everyone.
If the entity was on the rise once more, despite the fact her modified TI was still apparently working, Carson had to step in.
Yet if he told the Admiral, what then?
They'd lock Nida away.
Worse, they'd take her to Jupiter Substation. Or maybe they wouldn't, maybe they'd realize there was very little they could do against the entity. Not when it was utilizing its full force.
For crying out loud, it had managed to force the Academy computers to initiate the End Game Maneuver. If the entity once again managed to get full control of Nida, who knew what it would be capable of?
It could easily destroy the docking ring.
It could easily destroy their ship.
And it could kill everybody on board.
Facing a threat like that, maybe Admiral Forest would realize containing the entity was impossible.
Perhaps she'd direct her attention at killing it, and Nida in the process.
So that's why Carson didn't act.
That's why he felt colder than he ever had before as he stood there and stared at her.
If the Coalition were prepared to destroy the Vex to save themselves, then they would be prepared to destroy Nida as well.
Utilitarianism dictated that the needs of the many would always outweigh the needs of the few. Nida was just one person. If killing her and the entity would assure others' survival, then Admiral Forest would make that decision.
So Carson . . . he didn't and he couldn't turn and walk towards the Admiral.
He
just . . . he stood there and he watched Nida. His heart filled with hope. No, it pulsated with a pleading wish that she was okay. That she could still control the entity.
If she couldn't . . . he couldn't see her die.
She shifted about uncomfortably, until somebody came and got her, and she was ushered towards one of the many transports that would take the necessary crew up to the waiting cruiser in space.
All too soon, she was out of his sight. She wasn't out of his mind.
His guilt now drove him crazy.
He had to tell the Admiral, but he couldn't.
Forcing his lips to work and his throat to croak out the words was a Herculean task.
So Carson just . . . waited.
He waited to find out what would happen next.
He too was loaded onto a transport for the barely two-minute trip into space.
He was afforded with a seat next to a window, and in a daze, he leant one hand into the wall as he pushed his head towards it and peered out into space.
As they punched through the atmosphere, he saw the wall of blue that was the Earth below. Then he turned his head to the side to see the waiting heavy cruiser in geosynchronous orbit.
At first it was nothing more than a dot of grey-black against the swathe of dark dotted with stars.
Rapidly, in a blink even, it became huge.
Heavy cruisers were massive. Easily more than several kilometers in length and girth, they were exactly like floating cities. They had to be. They were the ships tasked with the hardest missions. Whether it be protecting the planet from some natural disaster, or fighting off the Kor Empire, you needed to have everything at your disposal, from weapons to medical facilities.
This heavy cruiser, the Chronos, also had state-of-the-art engines that could get them to Remus 12 in time.
In time to end it.
Just before Carson could let his mind turn towards that possibility, he stopped it. Dead in its tracks.
He leaned back from the window, closing his eyes, despite the incredible view.
Instead he focused his mind on the one thing that mattered.
Saving the Coalition.
And saving Nida.
He had to remove the entity from her.
There was no question of that anymore.
She could control it for now, but would that last?
And what would happen when they finally arrived on Remus 12? Would the entity try to reassert control once more?
Carson had never felt more stressed in his entire life. He wasn't just stuck between a rock and a hard place anymore, he was being crushed from every direction.
His loyalty to the Admiral and the Coalition was unquestionable, yet his growing loyalty to Nida could not be overcome either.
So he just sat there, waiting for his ship to dock with the Chronos. When the docking sequence was complete, he jumped to his feet and ran for the door.
He was determined not to sleep, because he would fix this.
Everything.
No matter what it took, even if it was his life.
Carson Blake would fix it.
Chapter 18
Cadet Nida Harper
It was easily one of the strangest experiences of her life. Not only had she barely travelled in space before, but she had never been on a ship like the Chronos.
A state-of-the-art heavy cruiser, only the best of the best could ever be posted here.
And despite what Sharpe had said, Nida knew she would never have been allowed to serve on a ship like this.
You didn't only need top marks, you had to be physically fit, the best of your class, even. You also had to have endurance off the charts, and the willingness to devote every moment of your time to study.
So it was a weird experience walking on board the Chronos. It was a weird experience having seasoned officers turn to her, nod, and address her with respectful greetings.
They were treating her like . . . she was one of their own. No, more than that, like she deserved to be here.
Though it truly was a weird feeling, Nida didn't have long to feel it. All too soon she was pulled into a private meeting with the Admiral.
The Admiral wanted to know any weaknesses the Vex might have. She was apparently not convinced that destroying the planet would solve this problem.
‘We need to be prepared for the fact that even if we attempt to destroy Remus 12, we will be unable to do so,’ the Admiral said as she paced before her desk, her hands locked behind her back.
At the mention of destroying Remus 12, Nida felt the entity within. It screamed at her. It begged her to do something. It told her she was a murderer for sitting by and doing nothing.
She clamped down on her teeth and she tried to control herself. She did it by repeating Sharpe's words: she would do what was right. Whatever that was.
‘Cadet,’ the Admiral whirled on her foot again, now clutching her arms so tightly behind her back, her shoulders bulged against her trim uniform, ‘you provided a surprisingly . . . emotive report to the Board back on Earth. You have proven yourself to be a capable observer. I need your advice now. What are we to do if the Vex survive our attempts to destroy the planet?’
Nida was torn.
She had no idea what to say.
Should she beg the Admiral not to destroy Remus 12? Should she get to her feet and give an impassioned speech about their moral duty to try to save the Vex?
Or would that just get her thrown in the brig?
Nida had to be careful.
She'd come along on this mission on the hope that she could help.
That somehow, though it sounded impossible, she’d be able to find a way to save the Vex. All she had to do was try. Try like she'd never tried before.
Sharpe had told her she had stamina and resilience.
It was time to find out if he was right.
So she had to be very careful.
She had to keep her feelings from the Admiral, right?
Or would it not matter?
Had Carson already shared Nida’s misgivings with the Admiral?
Despite the fact Nida didn't know how she felt about him right now, she doubted it. For one, the Admiral hadn't challenged her, nor had she thrown her in the brig, and for another, Carson . . . he’d done everything to protect her in the past. And though it was likely a foolish, ridiculous hope, maybe he was still trying to help her.
Maybe he was giving her the time and space to sort her head out.
She didn't know.
So she didn't exactly know how to answer the Admiral.
Admiral Forest whirled on her foot again, her eyebrows crumpling. ‘Cadet. Answer,’ she said simply and curtly.
Nida swallowed. There was only so much stalling she could do before Admiral Forest became so irate, she'd kick Nida out an airlock. ‘I don't know,’ she managed simply.
The Admiral's eyebrows descended so low, it was a surprise they didn't bury into her eyes. ‘Not good enough. I want to know what you know. What the entity knows.’
Nida flinched.
The Admiral noted it. ‘We have been assured by the medical personnel several times that you're modified telekinetic implant is doing its job. It is keeping the entity away from you. You don't need to be afraid. You need, in fact, to overcome any latent fear and rise to your duties, Cadet. I understand it must've been hard to endure what that creature put you through. I cannot begin to understand how it felt to have it trapped within your body, controlling both you and your mind. But all I can tell you is that we need you now,’ the Admiral spoke stiffly, her lips barely moving around her words, ‘the Coalition needs you. You may have never faced responsibility like this, but I assure you, you cannot shirk from it. If you run and hide or push away, you will never forgive yourself. When people's lives rest in your hands, and you drop them, you will live with that shame for the rest of your life.’
The Admiral was being brutally honest, but maybe Nida needed brutally honest right now.
The way F
orest spoke of responsibility . . . it was clear she was speaking from personal experience.
‘It will eat you up inside, and there will be few things in this universe that will be able to relieve you of that grief,’ the Admiral noted in a quiet, distant tone. Even though her voice didn’t boom out, it captured Nida's attention more than a shout in her ear.
With a kick of nerves, she pushed forward on her chair, following the Admiral with her gaze.
The Admiral was wrong. Nida knew perfectly well that failing one’s responsibility would haunt one for life; the entity was there to remind her of that fact.
However, there was another fact that Nida hadn't truly appreciated yet. With all that was going on in her mind, and the turgid storm of emotions the entity sent her way, she hadn’t paused to wonder what would happen when this was all over.
If she somehow interfered with the Coalition's plan to destroy the Vex, and the Vex in turn destroyed the Coalition, that would be on Nida's head, wouldn't it?
If Nida directly or indirectly led to the Vex destroying the Coalition, the responsibility would be hers.
It wouldn't just weigh her down; it would crush her completely.
It would prove Bridget and Bradley right: she was not cut out to save others. She could only condemn them.
With a dry mouth, she watched the Admiral.
‘The answers aren't always clear,’ the Admiral suddenly said as her eyes unfocused and she looked beyond Nida towards the windows behind her desk. They offered a perfect view of space beyond. It wasn't the usual black dotted with stars. Considering the speed the Chronos was travelling at, she couldn't see stars at all, only long lines of blinking light.
‘Sometimes you have to battle to make them clear,’ the Admiral added as she curled a hand into a fist and struck it against her thigh. ‘Sometimes you get it wrong. But when people's lives are on the line, the cost of getting it wrong increases. And when everybody's life is on the line,’ she finally turned to face Nida directly, ‘the cost is unfathomable. Do you understand that? Can you appreciate what it would be like to lose the Coalition? We cannot afford to make a mistake.’
Ouroboros 4: End Page 12
