It was a kick to the gut. I felt as if I was breathing through a straw. Couldn’t quite catch my breath. Didn’t feel like each laboured inhale was oxygenating me enough.

Mandy wasn’t really a friend.

I didn’t know what she was actually. She’d said CIA. But that didn’t make any sense. And especially not now when my mind and heart were aching painfully with thoughts and feelings I’d thought I’d stopped experiencing finally.

In a remote way, I knew my father had a lot to answer for. I’d lost so many friends when my mother had died. When he’d killed her. And making friends afterwards had been impossible with his security detail always there scowling. I’d felt so alone. Ratbag was all I’d had left to me. As much as I’d wanted to hate my father’s gift, I’d desperately clung to the puppy.

My hands felt empty right now with no dog to pet. For so long now, Ratbag had been my friend, my companion, my therapy canine. He’d given me the unconditional love my father had failed to provide. Without him, I didn’t know how to handle this revelation. I didn’t know how to function when faced with such a heavy blow to my body and mind.

“The agency caught wind of a joint leaseholder fleet-wide coup,” Mandy was saying.

Was that even her name? She’d clearly faked her bio to get onboard, so there’s no way she would have used her real name.

“It was too close to launch to do anything but buy passage,” she said. “And even that was out; the top tiers all taken. So, we did what we had to do to get someone onboard.”

“You mean you replaced the real Mandy the Digital Florist,” Hugo said deadpan.

My body shuddered with the implications. This was such a foreign world to me and yet I’d been raised on a battlefield. I’d been hardened by my experiences, none of which aided me here.

“We couldn’t get to any of the leaseholders,” the not-Mandy said. I noticed she’d ignored Hugo’s statement. “And there wasn’t a better fit. Who would think to look at the florist?” she said.

“Yeah,” Hugo muttered. “And Adi?”

I jerked in my seat. I didn’t dare look at Hugo, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at Mandy.

“Adi,” she said.

I thought perhaps she was watching me. I kept my head down and eyes averted. I didn’t want to see the laughter in her gaze. The knowledge that she’d duped me. I’d been a tool. Nothing more. The many times she’d asked me about my life, about what it was like living with a leaseholder. About what my dad did all day.

It had been a lie.

“I needed Adi to keep an eye on Nathan,” Mandy said, confirming everything. My fists bunched. But I kept myself resolutely still otherwise. No need to draw attention. “Like I said, getting near the leaseholder is hard. I couldn’t seduce him. He has nothing to do with the pay-for-passages, and although his mercs are more malleable, they’re kept on a short leash. Adi was my only way in.”

That first day I’d walked into the Habitat Two central hub and looked at all the stalls. It had been an act. A performance. The florist who’s digital designs had all been wiped in some unexpected glitch. Mandy had been ranting and raving, slamming her hand into her viewscreen. She’d even looked like she might start crying.

Livelihood. That’s what she’d called it. “This is my livelihood,” she’d wailed. “Without it, I’m as good as dead.”

I couldn’t walk past that. I knew some code. My school had been the best in the country. They made sure they prepared us for all the privileges in life, including making technology work for us. I hadn’t written digi-floral code before, but I knew I could do it. Confidence in one’s ability had been a core subject at my college.

I’d fallen for Mandy’s act without a care in the world and had believed I was doing her a favour. Doing a good thing. My mother, I’d thought, would have been proud of me.

My chewed up nails bit into the palms of my hands; I was digging them in so deeply. But I relished the pain that followed. Anything to mask the real agony.

“What was your plan?” Hugo asked.

“We didn’t know what form the coup would take,” Mandy said. “But one person against fifty mercs was too high a risk.”

“You knew he had more than the twenty he was legally allowed onboard and you didn’t warn us?”

“Would you have believed me? Would Captain Moore?”

“You expect me to believe you now,” Hugo said.

I liked that he was questioning her. He wasn’t falling for her sob story like I had. He was making Mandy work for their trust. It was a lesson I was learning far too late.

“The objective was always to assess what the leaseholder had planned and act accordingly,” Mandy said. “I had no idea his plan would involve such a lethal level of force.”

“By my calculation,” Hugo growled, “we’ve lost close to a dozen people. Most of them AU crewmen. You could have stopped that.”

“No,” Mandy said resolutely. “Not from the pay-for-passages. Maybe if we’d managed to get a top tier. But not down here. No way. You guys don’t even pay attention to what goes on down here. The jobs you make them do are either restricted to the habitats or menial janitorial type roles. We’re not even given a level one security clearance.”

“You’re not crew,” Hugo said, and then must have realised this wasn’t the argument he wanted to have. “It’s irrelevant. You let the leaseholder enact a plan you were aware of without informing us.”

“I…”

“Our captain is dead!” Hugo sucked in a breath of air. I couldn’t stop from peeking at him. He looked furious.

He looked gorgeous.

I looked away again.

“Our first officer,” he said in a more measured tone. “Our chief engineer. The head of our security. Why they didn’t just take me out at the beginning as well, I don’t know. But you allowed this entire situation to happen.”

“You mean I allowed you to have to step up and take command,” Mandy snapped. “You wear the rank but don’t have the balls to carry out what’s needed.”

Hugo stepped forward and pointed a finger at Mandy.

“You have no idea who I am or what I’m capable of.” His voice was low and steady, with a deadly edge to it. “You let this happen. Face it. You let them kill the upper echelon of our command and did fucking nothing.”

“It’s irrelevant,” she said, using Hugo’s words on him. “We’re here now. In this moment. Aquila shooting at another vessel in the Fleet. The leaseholder of our ship has taken over the onboard computer, and there’s a fairly high chance the others have succeeded in that endeavour as well.”

Johnson and Armstrong both paled. I flicked a glance at Hugo. He was still fuming so had some colour in his cheeks.

“Were your spies on those ships, too?” Hugo snarled. “Letting it all happen.”

Mandy let out a short laugh. It sounded frustrated and not just a little impatient.

“You don’t get it,” she said. “I’m it. I’m all we could get onboard any ship. Communications were patchy worldwide at the end. Travel was all but impossible. Even we weren’t stupid enough to chance atmospheric flight. I was it. This ship is it. We get it back; we help the others.”

I was watching Hugo openly now. This had not gone at all how I had expected. In a small way, he was my hero. Standing up to injustices without the cape. He hadn’t done more than point out how Mandy had used me. He’d not even given his opinion on the matter. But the fact that he’d said anything at all was enough to impress me.

And now this. This anger and defiance he showed her. This implacable wall that she could pit herself against, time and again, and it would never crack. He looked at her with unveiled disgust and fury. People had died. She could have helped prevent that.

“This is ridiculous!” she shouted. “None of this helps us now. Nathan Price has control of this ship, and we’re in a position to get it back. Stop thinking about the small things and start thinking about the big picture. The entire Sector Fleet. Forty thousand survivors. We can end this.”

“The end justifies the means,” Hugo said softly.

Mandy blinked at him and then let out a disgruntled breath of air and turned around.

Her eyes landed on me unexpectedly. For her as well as me. She hadn’t realised I was sitting right there staring at her.

“Adi,” she said, sounding sad.

“Don’t,” I offered. “You said we can end this.” I couldn’t go over this again. I couldn’t address my tumultuous emotions. The abandonment. The betrayal. “How?” I asked. “How do we stop this?”

Please, make this stop. All of it.

I was aware Hugo was looking at me now. I kept my eyes resolutely on Mandy. She’d hurt me and yet it was easier to face her than him. Than his compassion. His caring.

Hugo was a good man, and I realised, right then, that I was falling for him.

I couldn’t face that either and I certainly couldn’t let him see it in my eyes right then.

“That’s just the thing,” Mandy said steadily. “While the leaseholder started his little coup, I’ve been busy. Even he discounts the pay-for-passages.”

“What do you mean?” Hugo asked.

Mandy tore her gaze from me and looked at him.

“I’ve raised an army for you, Captain,” she said. “They’re a little rough around the edges, and their weapons are all homemade, but they’re ready. As ready as they can be.”

“What?” Hugo said; his two officers joined him. They all looked a little shellshocked.

“I might not have warned you,” Mandy conceded. “But I do have your back. There are fifty odd civilians ready to help you take back your ship. If you’ll have them.”

Hugo stared at her for a moment and then scrubbed a hand over his face, cupping his jaw.

He nodded his head slowly. Then let out a long breath of air.

“OK,” he said. “Let’s do this. Let’s take back our ship.”