Zero (2 page)

“
Dolgorukov will have what we need,” Webb said.

“
Father
?” Hugo asked.

“
The fighter furthest to port,” he gestured. “The middle one is
Son
and this one is
Ghost
.” He patted the fighter next to him again. “Our very own Holy Trinity.”

“
Who pilots them?"

“
We're all trained, even Spinn. You never know when and where you might need a pulse cannon or six backing you up.” Webb was grinning but the engineers just stood trying to steal glances at Hugo. “And over here, Captain. These are my pride and joy.” Webb moved deeper into the hold.

“
Land transports?” Hugo ventured, sullenly.

“
Not just any land transports,” Webb said, pulling a cover off the first shapeless bundle that rested against the hull. “This here's my baby.”

Hugo had to admit the motorcycle was impressive. He hadn't seen many in his life apart from in pictures. Like
Father
,
Son
and
Ghost
it was in pristine condition, not a speck of oil grimed the metal and the chassis was black as space. The tyres were off-road, Hugo noted, and Webb stroked the handles fondly.

“
I call her
Sin
,” he grinned.

“
You’re a baptised Nova, I’m guessing?” Hugo asked.

The bluntness of the question didn't seem to faze Webb who just shrugged.
“I couldn't tell you. Most kids on Lunar 1 are that's for sure. I don't remember it if I was. Baptised or not, I figure I'm going to Hell anyway. Might as well have a decent ride.” Webb laughed before showing Hugo the other three motorcycles battened down under protective covers against the aft bulkhead.

In the last corner hunkered an ancient four-by-four, dented and battered but with new tyres and gleaming metal work.

“You wouldn't think they would blend in,” Webb said. “But most surface-types still use transports like this. On Earth anyway. Moon's a different ball game but dirtside...fighters and flyers stick out like sore thumbs anywhere but the spaceport cities. And even there it's best we keep a low profile. Now come on, I know you want to see the bridge.”

Hugo followed Webb back up the ladder. A couple of twists and turns, and one stairway later, they emerged into a dim space with walls lined by the blinking lights of controls, dominated at one end by a plexiglass viewscreen. The vastness of space yawned beyond it, pinprick stars glinting in the blackness. A control panel spanned the width of the viewscreen with two harnessed chairs bolted in front of it.

“I like to have a copilot plus a couple more crew up here on the monitors when we're in drift,” Webb said, “depending on the mission. But you can pilot her single-handed if needs be.”

Hugo noted with relief that at least the bridge was free of the clutter. All the workstations were clear,
even if the chairs and harnesses were worn and every display and command pad he saw was functional and high-quality.

“
So, I think that's everything?” Webb span round one of the chairs and dropping himself into it. “Anything I've left out?”

Hugo gave him a narrow glance.
“You.”

“
Me?” Webb blinked. “Well, let me see,” he said, counting off on his long fingers. “Pilot, navigator, infiltrator, gunner...know a fair amount about computer systems though not as much as Rami. Munitions I'm good at.” He quirked another easy grin. Hugo didn't return it. “Go on then, Captain. You've read the files. What am I missing?” Webb leaned back again, hands interlaced across his chest.

“
The files aren't real.”

Webb shrugged.
“Our Service profiles don't exist. Officially. But you read the public profiles, surely?”

Hugo crossed his arms.
“All I could rely on in your public profile was your age. And all that told me was that you are far too young to be in such a commanding position of any vessel. Even a sneak-tub such as this.”

Webb's smile took on a frozen look.
“Technically, you can't even rely on that, Captain. I have no idea when I was born.”

“
Commander -”

“
Look, Hugo. I'm not all that much younger than you -”

“
There's a difference between age and experience. I've been trained since I was six. But you already know that. I
do
have a Service profile.”

“
If I were being pedantic,
Captain
, I would say I've been learning what I know longer.”

“
I meant formal training. Academy training,” Hugo countered, feeling his temper flare. “Not picking up tricks from the streets of the colonies. This crew -”

Webb was on his feet.
“You can say what you like about me, Captain,” he said, leaning in, voice low and smile gone. “But I won't hear a word against this crew. They have fought and bled for the Service every bit as much as any fleet officer, except at a higher cost because they did it in the dark.”

“
Commander, I suggest you watch your tone.”

“
And I suggest,
Captain
, that you pull your head out of your Academy-trained ass before we land at Tranquillity. I'm not about to have another captain screw up a mission trying to prove he's too good for the job.”

They stood almost toe-to-toe. Hugo felt heat broiling inside him. If it hadn't been for the years of discipline that had beaten his resolve stiff he would have struck the Commander. As it was, he stood, eyes locked with Webb's, until he trusted his voice to be steady.

“Since I don't assume full command of this vessel until we launch, I'm going to let that slide, Commander. But I would like it noted that any future insubordination will not be tolerated.” Webb leant back out of the confrontational stance and folded his arms, still watching him, but didn't respond. Hugo eventually let his eyes slide from the exchange and paced over to the viewscreen. “You will relay my first set of orders to the crew.”

“
Yes, sir,” Webb responded and Hugo heard the smile was back in his voice. This made Hugo bridle but he surpassed it.

“
We depart for Tranquillity on the hour,” he said, checking the time on his wrist panel. “I want to leave on time. Make sure everything is checked and ready.” Hugo looked up at Webb, who carried on gazing at him for a moment longer than was comfortable. Then he made a slight bow.

“
Aye, Captain,” he said, then paced back to the hatch and left.

Hugo was left alone on the bridge. His bridge. He sighed, feeling something rattle out of him, and dropped himself into a control chair. He stared out at the spread of stars, trying to ignore the chill of nerves warring with the heat of anger inside him. He was so engrossed in trying not to think, that the beeping of an incoming message startled him.
“On screen,” he said when he'd gathered himself.

Part of the viewscreen opened itself up to display a video feed of an older man with close-cut grey hair, heavy brow and a pristine Service uniform with a spread of pips across the shoulder.
“Captain Hugo,” he said, nodding. “I'm glad I caught you.”

“
Colonel Luscombe. Sir,” Hugo replied, straightening himself in the chair.

“
I was hoping to catch you at Command, but you'd gone by the time I arrived.”

“
Apologies, sir,” Hugo said. “If I'd known you were wanting to see me -”

The colonel shook his head.
“No matter. I just wanted to clarify a few things.”

“
Yes, sir?” Hugo said, fighting back a scowl.

Luscombe paused, eyeing him a minute as if guessing his thoughts.
“Firstly,” he said. “I will remind you again that every mission report must be made directly to me, and
only
me. If it's not a Red-Level mission a skeleton report can be made to my aide, but otherwise you find me or you wait. Is that clear?”

“
Yes, Colonel.”

“
Good. I want you to report to me in person after your Tranquillity trip.”

“
In person, sir?”

“
Yes, Captain,” Luscombe said. “I have your first Red-Level assignment. And I think it wise we meet in person to go over a few things. I don't have to tell you again about the highly sensitive nature of the responsibility you've been given?”

“
No, sir,” Hugo said. “You don't.”

“
I didn't think so. Take my advice. Use this moon trip to get to know the ship and the crew. Not many
Zero
captains have had that chance before. Listen and learn. This is not an unworthy command, but neither is it an easy one. But Admiral Pharos thinks you're up to it. I don't think I'll be surprising you by saying I'll be reserving my judgement.”

“
No, Colonel.” He ground his teeth for a moment. “Sir?”

The colonel
’s face was stone again. “Yes?”

“
About Black Dawn...I didn't -”

“
I can't go through that with you now, Hugo,” Luscombe said.

“
I just wanted to clarify -”

“
We will talk more when you return.”

Hugo swallowed.
“Yes, sir.”

Luscombe nodded.
“Good. And one last bit of advice for you...”

“
Sir?”

“
Take Webb's lead until you get your head in the right place. It's the best way. Trust me.”

Hugo managed a stiff nod.
“Yes, sir.”

“
Congratulations again, Captain. See you shortly.”

“
Yes, sir.”

And the screen went blank.

“Knows what he's talking about, does Luscombe. For a Service type, anyway.”

Hugo jumped. Webb was leaning against the hatch, his infernal grin back in place.

“Is everything ready?” Hugo asked, recovering and fighting back the surge of temper.

“
Sir, yes sir,” Hugo couldn't quite determine if the salute Webb gave him was respectful or not. “Shall we cast off? I've yet to know cargo that has delivered itself.”

“
Begin launch sequences,” Hugo said, getting up from the chair. Webb nodded, grinned and took the seat Hugo vacated just as More came onto the bridge and took the other. Rami and Spinn were close behind him. They all gave him nods and wary glances as they filed past. Rami and the researcher settled themselves at workstations and began running checks. Hugo looked around.

“
Where's the command chair?” he asked.

“
Er,” Webb looked over his shoulder, though his hands didn't stop moving over the control panel. “My ass is in it. Sorry, Captain. Guess we've never had need for a proper captain's chair before.”

“
You've had captains before me,” Hugo gritted. “What did they do?”

“
They died,” Webb muttered.

“
Zeek,” More said, and Hugo could swear it sounded like the older man was scolding his commander. “Captain,” he said, turning to Hugo. “There is a harness on the spare workstation at the back. Would you like me to have a command chair fitted?”

Hugo tore his glare from the back of Webb's head to look at More.
“Thank you, Sub-Lieutenant. We also need to have a word about your oxygen generator.”

“
Yes sir,” More nodded. “I've been wanting to upgrade it for some time.”

“
What's stopped you?”

More swallowed, glanced at Webb and then turned back to his panel.

“Pirates don't need oxygen like everyone else, Commander?”

“
Privateers, if we're talking labels, Captain.” The fact that there seemed to be genuine amusement in the commander's voice made Hugo want to snarl. “And yes, we need oxygen. But where would pirates, as you say, get a Service-grade generator?”

“
We'll pretend we stole it,” Hugo muttered.

Webb shook his head.
“Whatever you say, Captain. Permission to contact control.”

Hugo sighed and started buckling himself into the last remaining chair.
“Permission granted.”

Hugo watched his crew complete the pre-launch checks and contact spaceport
control, looking out for anything missed or any corners cut but all he saw was a group of people so familiar with their ship it was like an extension of their own bodies. Whatever else happened, Hugo reasoned, at least it was looking less likely he'd be blown up or drifted by his own crew.

“
Checks complete and control has cleared us, sir,” More said.

“
Set a course for Tranquillity and take us away.”