He looked like a complete idiot, but thankfully people were too busy to notice Carson Blake shaking in his boots outside a cadet’s door.
He couldn’t help but think that several months ago he’d never have behaved like this.
The Carson Blake of the past had led the Force, and he’d done so with a stiff upper lip.
Now, however, Carson was practically falling apart.
Eventually he mustered the courage to do what he had to. He brought his stiff sweaty fingers down and pressed them into the intercom button. ‘Ah, Nida,’ he stammered through his words, his voice a shaking mess, ‘are you in there? I need to talk to you, Nida,’ he tried again.
It was hell as he waited for her to answer. He’d already checked with the computer to confirm she was inside, so he knew she was in there. But as time stretched on, it became clearer and clearer she didn’t want to speak to him.
He pressed the intercom button down once more, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He continued, ‘Nida, I’m really sorry, I need to speak to you. Please let me in, Nida.’
Again she didn’t answer. Just before he could turn away, however, there was a soft beep, and the door unlocked. It opened to reveal her quarters.
They were large, especially generous for a cadet. There was soft grey and red carpet on the floor, partially showing the logo of the Coalition, and it led out to a wide room dotted with various chairs, a desk, and an appreciably sized bed. All around one wall was a continuous bank of windows, stretching out beyond to the fantastic view of space: just blackness with those lines of stars flashing past indicating just how fast the Chronos was travelling on its desperate mission.
For just a bare second, he let himself be distracted by that view. He struggled to find his equanimity as his attention focused on the great beyond.
Then he saw her.
She was standing off to the side of the room, awkwardly leaning with one leg against her desk. As she crossed her arms in front of her chest, she looked on at him with the kind of expression that set his teeth on edge.
Her pert lips were pressed together, her eyebrows pushed low over her usually sparkling eyes.
Though he’d faced off against many enemies in his time, and had pushed through tasks more arduous than most could imagine, seeing Nida contemplating him with such a cold expression was the worst.
His stomach gave such a kick of fear, it was a surprise it didn’t lurch right out of the window and tumble into the cold depths of space.
He took several short, careful steps into the room. The door closed with a near-silent hiss behind him, and yet it made him jump.
He was nervous, twitchy, edgy. And as he lifted his head up and mustered the courage to stare at her, his nerves quadrupled. It felt like a storm in his gut. His mouth was so dry, he kept swallowing every other second.
She didn’t say anything. She simply remained there with her arms crossed and her expression terse.
No, it wasn’t terse—it was complicated, like this entire situation.
Though Carson thought he knew what she was feeling, in all reality, it was unlikely Nida understood herself.
This situation was changing so rapidly, it was impossible to predict how anyone would react to it.
Bringing one sweaty hand up and running it through his short hair, he cleared his throat. ‘The Admiral sent me here,’ he began, then winced as he realized that was the wrong way to start.
Nida had let him in, which was a good sign, and possibly the evidence he needed that maybe she still trusted him. He should fall down on one knee and beg for her forgiveness. He shouldn’t pretend the only reason he was here was that Forest had ordered him.
She turned from him, considering her crossed arms instead with fixed attention. The quality of her gaze suggested the crease and crumple of her sleeves held the very secrets of the galaxy. That, or they were infinitely more interesting than Carson himself.
Again he cleared his throat. He had to jump in and do this.
He couldn’t afford to stand here like an awkward, love-struck teenager when the whole galaxy was on the line.
He stiffened his jaw.
‘Nida, look, I’m sorry, I am so sorry for what happened,’ once he began speaking, it was as if the floodgates had been opened. His words came tumbling out in one grand jumbled mess of slurred syllables. He could barely understand himself, but he kept pushing on, ‘I’m so sorry. This situation . . . It’s gotten out of hand. I know how you feel about the Vex, and trust me, I feel the same. If there was another way to save them, we’d do it. If there was a way to be sure we weren’t condemning the Coalition, we’d do it. I promise you that,’ he kept stumbling on, forcing his words out in one endless stream of unbroken consciousness.
She didn’t stop him. She did, however, pull her gaze from her sleeves tentatively. She let it drift across the floor until finally it reached his eyes.
She looked lost. Lost.
Realizing that gave a kick of nerves to his stomach. ‘Nida,’ he said suddenly, ‘are you okay?
His simple question got her attention.
Her gaze flickered, her eyes practically closing as it appeared as if they would fill with tears. ‘No,’ she said.
He ground to a halt. He gripped his sweaty fingers into fists, held them there, and watched her.
No, she wasn’t all right, was she? And yet she was doing remarkably better than anyone else would be in her position. She hadn’t succumbed to the entity. Its blue light was not playing across her form, and nor was it sending him crashing against the ceiling. And though she’d told him she wasn’t all right, the fact that she was standing and she wasn’t a mess of tears on the floor was evidence enough that she was better off than she thought.
‘Hey,’ he said softly as he took a gentle step towards her.
This really got her attention, as she jerked away from the desk and stared at him warily.
He stopped on the spot. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’
She blinked quickly. ‘I know that, Carson,’ she said in an uncertain tone. ‘It’s just I . . .’ she trailed off.
He pressed his lips into his teeth.
Ever since their fight in his office, he’d been apologizing to her over and over again in his head. He’d been practicing what he’d say until the words were arranged in a perfect, emotive, convincing order. Except now in her presence he forgot them.
The only thing that captured his attention was how exquisitely confused she appeared. She didn’t need his apology. She needed clarity.
His back stiffened.
Ever since their mission had begun, their relationship had changed. It was no longer one of a lieutenant and cadet, no longer one of the chain of command. Though he’d tried to reinstate that on occasion, she’d never let him.
Instead they’d been equals, friends, even for a brief period lovers.
Now he had no idea where they stood. Yet as he looked at how conflicted she was, he realized what she needed from him: direction.
She was lost. Of course she was. Even though this situation was new to him, it would be newer to her. The responsibility of being a Coalition soldier, especially in a time of war, wasn’t one you could easily adjust to. Nida was only a cadet—she had no experience with this.
In unfamiliar times like this, someone in her position needed direction.
Could he give it to her?
He’d have to try.
He no longer stepped forward tentatively, he took a sharp stride, brought his arms around and crossed them hard in front of his chest.
This really did get her attention. Her eyebrows crumpled, her lips crunching together. ‘Carson,’ she asked warily.
‘Nida, snap out of it,’ he snapped in what he hoped was a strict but not angry tone.
Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘Excuse me?’ though there was a hint of indignation in her tone, there was also a waiver of fear.
‘Snap out of it,’ he repeated, ‘people are relying on you,’ he added.
Now her eyes shifted open wide. ‘I don’t need to be reminded of that,’ she pointed out through a choke.
Though he could see the emotion twitching through her face, paling her cheeks, and threatening to send tears trickling from her wide open eyes, he didn’t stop. She needed direction, he kept telling himself, not comfort.
She’d already proved she was smart enough, brave enough, and calm enough to get through most situations, just as long as she knew what she was fighting for. Her problem was she no longer knew what to do. She was being pulled by the competing desires to protect the Coalition and to fix the entity’s mistake.
He could talk to her until he was blue in the face, trying to convince her the Vex had to be sacrificed to ensure the security of the Coalition, but that wouldn’t do anything. She didn’t need to be told what to do, she needed to be told how to figure it out for herself.
He kept his arms crossed tensely in front of him, his muscles tight against his uniform.
Her eyes darted over them, then up to his face.
Before she could defend herself, he jumped in once more, ‘people keep saying you’re not cut out for this—prove them wrong.’
Her lips now scrunched in so much it was a surprise they didn’t disappear into her mouth entirely. ‘I don’t need to be told that,’ she said in a terse tone that wasn’t entirely her own.
You see, over the past several weeks, he’d gotten to know Nida. He’d also gotten to know the entity. She wasn’t the kind to get angry. Scared, yes. Tired and weary, absolutely. Frustrated, of course. But angry? No. She wasn’t violent and never would be. Even though she had the power of the entity at her fingertips, she only ever used it to save others.
And that, that’s the hope he’d held onto ever since her episode in his office. He kept telling himself she had the power to control the entity and yet the power to control her own anger and desire too. It reinforced that she was probably the best person to be in this situation. She might’ve been the worst recruit in 1000 years once upon a time, but only Nida was equipped with a personality to ensure the entity’s presence didn’t corrupt her mentally or morally.
‘Nida, I'm not going to argue with you about what the Coalition is doing. I know you can understand it. I'm here to tell you that we need to know we can rely on you. I told the Admiral that we can. I told her that you've never let me down and you never will. You’re the kind to always do what's best when you’re called upon to act,’ he continued.
Though she still looked a measure of indignant, it softened. It appeared to melt away as a touch of sorrow infiltrated her eyes.
He didn't let her emotion derail him. Though he felt a kick of nerves travel through his belly at her pain, he didn't reach a hand out to her.
He would offer her clarity instead.
He'd give her the room to make her own decisions.
Pressing his lips into his teeth, he continued, ‘we can rely on you, right?’ he didn't like putting her on the spot like this. He didn't like to appear that he was questioning her loyalty.
She needed this right now though.
She shifted back suddenly, her leg banging into the table. It looked painful, but again he didn't move to help her.
She didn't need help, he kept reminding himself, she just needed to make her mind up.
‘Carson, why are you saying this?’ she asked in a high-pitched tone keening with emotion. She appeared to be on the edge of tears, and indeed, as she spoke, one trickled down her cheek. ‘I don't need to be reminded of all this. I know how much is at stake. I know how much responsibility I have,’ she said in a shaking tone.
‘I'm not reminding you of what’s at stake, I'm reminding you that I can rely on you. That you’ve proven yourself time and time again. I'm letting you know that if you’re doubting yourself now, Nida, don't. I know what you're made of; you've shown me.’
She took another step back, again banging into the desk, but this time reacting. Instead she focused only on him.
She opened her mouth, ready to say something, but her lips froze in place.
He took it as an opportunity, taking a step forward and continuing, ‘Nida, I know it's hard. God it's hard. With the entity residing within you, I know you can hear its thoughts. It's pushing you on and on. It’s telling you the Coalition are monsters. It’s forcing you to fix its mistake. I can't change that. We don't have the time to remove the entity from you, and maybe we don't have the luxury. We don't know what will happen next, but you know what? You've already proved to me you can push past this. That no matter what obstacle you face, you can find a solution. So do that one more time,’ he said, the hard edge to his voice disappearing to be replaced with emotion. Though he kept trying to push it away, it seeped back.
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?’
Ouroboros 4: End Page 14
