Harvey nodded. “They took him in at St. Michael's. Though by the time I got him there he was calling for Marlowe again.”
Hugo swallowed as a chill rode up his spine. Harvey rubbed her face as she sat in the corner with their blankets. She looked small and tired, but when she let her hand drop her face was clear and she sat straighter.
Hugo finished washing his face then pulled off his jacket. He checked over, cleaned and replaced the dressings on all his injuries. Neither of them said anything, though they both stole glances at the door of the foreman's office.
When Hugo was done he leant against the workbench, letting his body be still. Exhaustion was pumping through him like lead in his veins but he couldn't bring himself to move toward the blankets. He took a breath, ran a hand through his hair, then paced over to the foreman's door, ignoring Harvey's mumbled warning.
He paused with his hand on the handle, feeling uncertainty flicker in the fog of weariness, then pushed it aside and opened the door. It was silent and dark inside. There was a single dirty window high in the wall that only let in enough night-cycle light to produce deep shadows around the piled-up furniture, broken workstation and unidentifiable mounds of junk. As his eyes got used to the gloom he discovered a hunched shape in the corner wasn't another mound of clutter. Hugo clicked the door shut behind him, blocking out Harvey's concerned face, then lowered himself to the floor next to Webb.
After a few heartbeats of deep silence Webb shifted and pulled himself upright. His movements were sluggish, like those of a sleepwalker. Even in the poor light Hugo could see the blood from his attack on Marlowe had darkened to a grisly mask about his mouth and jaw. The boot black was smudged down his face. The eyes that peered out of the mess were dull.
“I don't feel anything,” he mumbled after just staring at Hugo for several loaded seconds. “I thought, when he was dead... after I killed him... I thought I'd feel different. But I don't.”
Hugo let the silence stretch for a minute whilst Webb blinked into the darkness.
“How old were you?”
Webb lifted his shoulders in a weak shrug, a sad and defeated gesture. “Old enough to know what I was agreeing to. Young enough that I thought anything was worth not having to face another day hungry.” He tilted his head back so that it rested against the wall and closed his eyes, hands fumbling for something at his throat. The was a glint of gold in the darkness then his fist closed over the pendant. His breathing calmed. “It happened a lot, even before the plagues had left the colony swarming with kids with nowhere to go. And I was luckier than most. At least I got away breathing. But...” He paused and for a second Hugo didn't think he was going to continue. But he kept his mouth shut and waited. Webb eventually sighed and rubbed his face. “It never went away. It's like... I don't know. It's like you've swallowed cement. The weight of it... it stays.”
“It's right that he's gone,” Hugo said a few heartbeats later. “He can't hurt anyone any more. But you didn't need to kill him to change anything. You defeated Marlowe long ago.”
There was a snort in the darkness, a soft one with no real power behind it. “How'd you figure that one?”
Hugo leaned in, making his commander meet his eye. “The man I met aboard Service Command... the man who is the commander of the Zero... he is not a broken man. He's someone who has taken something that might have destroyed him and turned it into a strength. Into a reason not to be defeated.”
Webb didn't answer but Hugo could feel his eyes still on him.
“We can't choose what happens to us,” he continued in an even lower voice, glancing off into the shadows. “What we can do is choose what we do with it.”
“You're a good man, Hugo,” Webb said softly after another few moments. “Too good for this shit.”
Hugo looked into the shifting shadows of his commander's face for a moment longer. When the silence threatened to spiral into a darker place, he made his voice work. “You gonna wash?”
Webb laughed, though it was a little hollow, and scrubbed his sleeve over his eyes. “Aye. I guess I should.”
They both got to their feet and Hugo went for the door.
“Hugo,” Webb said before he could open it. “Anita doesn't know. No one knows.”
“They won't hear it from me.”
Webb stared up at the grey window. Then he took a breath and nodded. “Thank you,” he said.
Hugo ducked his head then opened the door and stepped back into the workshop.
ɵ
The three hours rest Hugo made himself take whilst waiting for the signal from the Zero only served to make everything that had been trembling with fatigue dissolve into a stiff, sore, creaking mess. The others didn't appear to be much better off. They all groaned and muttered as they packed their remaining supplies. The greyness of the returning day-cycle was rising outside the dirt on the windows and Hugo took a moment to rub his eyes. If he ever thought he knew exhaustion before, he was wrong. This went right to the bone. Right to the soul.
“The Zero will be docking within the hour,” he said when he checked his wrist panel.
“Good,” Webb muttered. He stood straighter than he had been the previous evening, but there was still strain in his face. “Let's get the fuck off this colony.”
XIV
Hugo didn't entirely know how to process the fact that he felt a palpable relief to be stepping back on board the Zero. The only thing he could be certain of was that he couldn't deny it. Kinjo and Rami met them in the cargo hold where they all but dragged them from the bikes and ushered all three straight to medbay. He staggered in the corridor when the deck tilted as they launched and was grateful to finally slump into a chair.
Hugo allowed Kinjo to strip him down to his skivvies and check him over, muttering answers to her questions, tiredness lapping at him in great sucking waves. She tutted and fussed over the healing gunshot wounds in his shoulder, arm and calf and then finally dismissed him to go and get washed, under strict orders to come back and get his wounds dressed once he was done.
He left, throwing one look towards Rami whose face was tight as she checked over the unresponsive Webb.
He turned the shower to its hottest setting, sinking himself in the blissful feeling of the water scouring away the layers of dirt and blood. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cubicle, visualising his skin peeling off in great chunks. He willed the bleakness to crumble away with it.
Telling himself he would get his wounds dressed later, he went back to his cabin. His narrow bunk had never looked so tempting. Every muscle and bone begged to be laid down but he couldn't bring himself to give in until he'd unloaded some of what was in his head. Leaning heavily on his table he turned on the wall display then started keying in commands to get a comm link to Colonel Luscombe. He almost nodded off standing up as the word ‘Connecting’ flashed on the screen, but then a window opened up and a young woman in Service uniform was blinking at him.
“Captain Hugo? Is that you?”
“Commander Hudson,” Hugo blinked. “Yes it's me. I need to report to the colonel. Urgently.”
She hesitated then said, “Hold, please.”
The feed went blank with the hold sign flashing in the corner. Hugo frowned, trying to put his finger on what was making him uneasy but the window opened back up and a much older woman appeared on the screen, storm cloud coloured hair scraped back from her face, eyes sharp. Eight silver pips glinted on the shoulders of her uniform.
“Captain Hugo.” Her voice wasn't loud but it was heavy, like tempered steel.
“Admiral Pharos,” Hugo managed, pulling himself up from the table and attempting to stand straight. He saluted and tried not to think about the fact that he was only in a pair of utility trousers and hadn't shaved in days.
“Well? Report.”
“Ma'am,” he said. “I was given strict instructions only to report to Colonel Luscombe...”
“You answer to the colonel, but he answers to me, Hugo.”
<
br /> “Yes, Ma'am.”
“Report. Now. What the hell happened on Lunar 1?”
Hugo swallowed. “Ma'am. We successfully carried out Luscombe's orders-”
“This was one of Luscombe's initiatives?” she asked, brow clouding.
“Yes, Ma'am,” Hugo said. “As a result of some information we received.”
She looked off screen for a moment, frown heavy on her brow, then turned back. “Well then? What happened?”
Hugo stared at a point just above the screen as he reported. He went through their plan, their attack on the storehouse and what followed, skirting around the issue that attacking the Splinter ringleaders had been his idea and leaving Harvey and Doll out completely.
When he was done, he stood there trying not to sway. Pharos looked at him for a long time, hands clasped together on her desk and face still and completely unreadable. “Very well, Captain. We shall continue to monitor Lunar 1 and see if your strike has been conclusive. I would like to confirm that at no point did anyone know who it was?”
Hugo shook his head. “I don't believe so, Ma'am. Everyone who saw us was destroyed.”
“Any losses on your side?”
“No, Ma'am.”
“What about Webb?”
Hugo frowned. “Ma'am?”
“Where is he?”
“Medbay, ma'am.”
“Was he injured?”
“Scrapes and bruises only as far as I know,” Hugo said, trying to read her eyes.
She nodded once, then leaned forward and started typing into a keypad out of site. “Very well, Hugo. I will pass this onto Luscombe. But, as I have you here, I have your next mission.”
Hugo swallowed, and blinked back the fuzziness creeping at the corners of his vision. “Already, Ma'am?”
“Is there a problem?” she said, without looking up. “Perhaps you'd like a vacation?”
“Of course not, Admiral,” he said. “Apologies.”
“Your little attack on the storehouse triggered an official investigation,” she continued. “During the course of their enquires, the Analysts have identified a source of the majority of the credit sent to the Splinters.”
“They have? Who was it?”
“We don't know who. Only what. It was revenue generated from a mining satellite.”
“A registered one?” he pushed. Her eyes narrowed. “Ma'am?” he added.
“The operation is being run by a dummy corporation wrapped up in false accounts, licensed to fake profiles. The Analysts haven't been able to pull it all apart. But that's beside the point. You're to destroy it.”
“Ma'am?”
She tapped another series of keys and a blinking light appeared on his display that indicated waiting information. “That's your mission, Captain Hugo. Destroy satellite X6-119.”
“Ma'am,” he repeated, ignoring the heaviness that was gathering in her expression. “Forgive me, but I don't understand.”
“You don't have to understand, Hugo.”
“No, Ma'am,” Hugo said, mind blundering about trying to find the right words. “But -”
“Captain, I hope you have not become lost in the woods?”
“No, Ma'am.”
“I see no other explanation for you starting to outwardly question orders.”
“No, Admiral,” he said. “Please, my apologies. Destroy the satellite. Very well, Ma'am. Acknowledged. It's just -”
“I am amazed at what you managed on Lunar 1, Hugo,” Pharos cut him off. “And I haven't forgotten the fortitude and initiative you displayed on the day of the Black Dawn uprising. It is why I chose you for this. Now prove to me I wasn't wrong.”
His back stiffened but he managed to keep his face straight. “Yes Ma'am,” he managed, bowing his head. “I'm sorry I questioned -”
“You have your orders. Report in to Luscombe as soon as it's done.”
The feed cut off before he could reply. Hugo let his shoulders sag. He blinked at the blank display for a few moments before keying up the data she had transmitted, not able to completely push aside the feathering of uncertainty in his belly.
“Hugo to bridge.”
“More here, Captain,” More's face, gaze focussed off screen as he steered the ship, appeared on his display.
“Where are we?”
“Just heading out of Lunar space now, Captain. Any heading?”
“No,” Hugo said, rubbing his forehead. “Not yet. Take her out somewhere she can drift for a while. Where's Webb?”
“Rami sent him to the crew cabin I think, Captain.”
“Very well. Keep at top speed until we're well clear of the Lunar Strip.”
“Yes, sir.”
There was no buzzer on the crew cabin door and the room was dark inside. “Webb?” Hugo asked, stepping in.
“Captain,” Webb said and the lights flickered on. Webb was hauling himself up from his bunk.
“Don't get up,” Hugo said, easing himself down on the bunk opposite and spreading out his sore leg with a grunt. “Did I wake you?”
“No,” Webb snorted, as though this were a silly suggestion.
“Are you alright?” Hugo said, gesturing toward the bandages wrapped around the commander's chest.
“It's nothing. Rami likes to fuss. What about you?” Webb said, eyes flicking from wounded shoulder to stiff leg.
“I'm fine.”
“I wouldn't want to be in your shoes when Kinjo finds out you've ignored her.”
“I'm fine,” Hugo repeated.
Webb shrugged. “Was there something you wanted, Captain?”
Hugo chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “I've just been reporting to Pharos.”
Webb raised his eyebrows. “What did she want?”
“Well, first of all she was concerned about you.”
“Me?” Webb said, frowning.
Hugo nodded.
“Didn't think she even knew my name.”
“Apparently she does. And she seemed worried that you might have been injured.”
Webb rubbed the back of his neck. “I got nothing, Captain. I guess I represent something of an investment... though I’ve been nearly blown up more times than I haven’t, so why she should give a shit now, your guess is as good as mine.”
Hugo eyed his commander a moment more but there was nothing in his face apart from the tightness of fatigue. “She also gave us our next mission.”
“No rest for the wicked, huh?” Webb said, rubbing his face.
“We're to destroy a mining satellite that appears to be the source of the Splinters' credit.”
“Okay,” Webb said, shifting on the bunk and wincing. “Should be simple enough.”
Hugo frowned. “That's it?”
“What?”
Hugo folded his arms. “Are you being deliberately obtuse, Webb?”
Bewilderment crossed the commander's face. “Huh?”
“She doesn't want us to break into it, hack into it or anything that would get more data for the Analysts. She wants it destroyed.”
“So we destroy it,” Webb said, shrugging. “If those are the orders.”
“You were quick enough to exceed orders when there was a chance to destroy Marlowe.”
Webb's face darkened and his jaw clenched. Hugo felt shame swamp him. He swallowed, throat tight and got up to leave.
“Sit down, Hugo, for fuck's sake. Fine. Tell me what the problem is.”
“I don't know,” Hugo snapped, balling his fists and pacing back across the cabin. “I don't know,” he said again, calmer. “It's just... she's more concerned with destroying it than with finding out who owns it.”
“After all this, how is your head still in Service-mode, Hugo?”
“What?”
“Ours is not to reason why,” Webb mumbled, propping his chin up on his hand. There was a haunted look about his eyes for a moment but then it was gone so quick Hugo wasn't sure he'd seen it. “Besides, the amount of time it would take the Analysts to track down the t
rails, assuming that's even possible, whoever it is will have stripped the asteroid bare and have enough cash for Christ knows how many more nasty little plans.”
Hugo paused. “I hadn't thought of that.”
A ghost of Webb's former grin crossed over his tired face. “There you go then. Besides, if this happens now, anyone looking into it will think it's part of the black cross vendetta and file it under 'the fuck am I getting involved'.”
Hugo sighed and leant against the bulkhead, kneading his sore shoulder. “God you irritate me when you're right.”
Webb gave a weak laugh and laid back down on his bunk. “You just wait until I'm wrong. That'll shit you up six ways from Sunday. But if your instincts are bugging you, get Rami and Spinn to see what they can find. At least that way we'll know a little more about what we're blowing up.”
ɵ
After relaying his orders to Rami and Spinn Hugo relented and let Kinjo drag him to the medbay to treat and bind his gunshot wounds. He just grunted in response to her questions until she gave an irritated little snort and filled a syringe from a vial.
“What's that?” Hugo said, attempting to glower.
“You need to sleep.”
“I'm fine, Midshipman,” he said, standing stiffly.
She set her jaw. “Sir, if our lives are in your hands I think we'd all be happier if you were well rested.”
He opened his mouth to protest again but found he was just too tired and allowed her to administer the shot. She had to help him back to his cabin and he'd slipped away before she'd even turned the lights out.
He'd only started dreaming when a bleeping sounded somewhere close by. Whilst he tried to claw back from oblivion the bleeping became sirens, lights flashed and he could taste smoke and blood. He snapped his eyes open and blinked at the bulkhead until he pulled himself back together. He was breathing like he'd run up the stairs of a megablock and sweat was cooling on his skin.
Bleep, bleep, bleep.
He rubbed his face and sat up. There was a blinking light on his wall display. Kinjo must have set it to sleeping mode.
“On screen,” Hugo grunted and Webb's face appeared.
“Hugo? Rami might have found something...”
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