Free Ouroboros 4: End by Odette C. Bell Page B

him shiver.
    She didn’t suddenly glow blue and start trashing the place. Instead she took another deep breath and smiled awkwardly. ‘Sorry you have to keep putting up with me. I’m okay now. We should head to the meeting, right?’
    He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took the time to stare right at her, hoping to capture her attention completely. ‘Nida, don’t apologize. You’ve been on the front line of this whole fiasco. I can’t imagine what you’ve put up with having the entity inside you. Don’t apologize,’ he said flatly.
    Before she could respond, he heard someone clear their throat from behind.
    He stiffened immediately.
    Turning, he knew it was the Admiral before her tense, irritated expression came into view. ‘We’re waiting,’ she said simply.
    Admiral Forest didn’t hesitate—she whirled on her foot, pointing towards the end of the corridor as she did.
    If Carson had resisted the urge to hold Nida’s shoulders before, it was almost impossible to stifle the desire now.
    This would undoubtedly be her first briefing in front of the Academy Board. While she’d come a long way since this journey began, he’d seen how Sharpe still rattled her.
    Nida had a history of getting in trouble, so it stood to reason this would scare her. Heck, it rattled him, and he’d been before the Board countless times.
    While he couldn’t pluck up her hand and squeeze it tenderly, he could at least walk closer to her. Shifting slightly he angled her way, catching her expression just long enough to smile reassuringly.
    ‘We don’t have time to waste,’ the Admiral announced as she marched through the great silver doors before them. With a barely audible hiss, they parted, and she strode quickly into the room.
    The boardroom was enormous. It was at least 20 meters squared. Situated at the edge of the building, one side was a seamless, curved bank of windows that provided an astounding view of the bay beyond. There was a large, mahogany table in the middle of the room, easily bigger than a small recon vessel. Dotted in the wood were low-profile, sleek metal bands that provided users with interactive holo displays, and instant access to the full force of the Academy data banks.
    The table and the room, however, were not nearly as impressive as the assembled crowd.
    The Academy Board was made up of the heads of each discipline, from medicine to engineering, including the active Coalition Admirals that presided over the training of new recruits.
    Suffice to say, every uniform was impeccable, every brass button sparkled, and every expression was grim.
    The tone was so grave, Carson’s first instinct was to duck out and run away.
    He stood his ground, and luckily, so did Nida.
    It was harder for her, though. The moment she walked in, all attention zeroed in on her like self-targeting missiles from a Coalition heavy cruiser.
    She gulped. She also clutched her left hand so tightly, it was a wonder she didn’t snap the bones.
    Admiral Forest paused for a fraction of a second, shot him a look, shook her head, then waved him forward.
    Pointing to a chair, she told him to ‘sit,’ tersely.
    Though her tone was the kind you used on a dog, not a man, he obeyed.
    When Nida went to sit beside him, Forest shook her head. ‘No, stand.’
    Before Carson could bristle, snap to his feet, and come to Nida’s aid, Forest explained, ‘you won’t be staying long, Cadet. Though you have been through . . . some extraordinary experiences beyond the remit of an ordinary cadet, you are still not an officer. Even under these extreme circumstances, a cadet cannot attend an Academy Board meeting.’
    Though at first Nida looked surprised, she shrugged her shoulders and nodded. Then, quite possibly remembering the Admiral was an Admiral, and Nida really was still just a cadet, she snapped a hasty salute.
    Her salute, as always, was faultless. He used to think that was the only thing she could get right, he now knew otherwise.
    The