Broken Episode One (4 page)

He faced the journalists.

The recording began.

And the questions.

“Special Commander Cook, how does it feel to be
called a hero?”

“Special Commander, can you confirm reports your
recent mission took you behind Barbarian lines?”

“... Ah,” Josh began. He could take on a horde of
pirates, but this was already killing him.

“Special Commander Cook cannot confirm or deny any
reports regarding his recent mission. Now, you all know that, so
please don’t ask him again.” Kathleen strode off to his side and
shot the assembled journos a curt but still friendly look.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

In honesty, he’d find it easier answering questions
about his mission than about being a hero. Because, frankly, he
wasn’t the guy they thought he was.

He had the kind of past that made him the exact
opposite of a golden boy.

So every time they talked of his heroics, it made
his back itch and his stomach clench.

“I’m really not that great,” he tried at one
point.

“Don’t
be modest,” one of the reporters rebuked him, “we’ve read the
reports, we’ve seen the evidence
– you’re a galactic hero.”

Josh wanted to disappear behind his collar. Instead
he shrugged.

“It’s all in a day’s work for a member of the
Coalition.” Kathleen marched up and patted him on the shoulder.
“The Special Commander here may not like to be thanked, but that
isn’t going to stop the Academy Board from giving him a
commendation.”

“... What?” Josh half turned to her.

He hadn’t heard anything about this. Then again, it
was common practice for the Academy to spring surprises like this
on unsuspecting "heroes," just so the press could see their genuine
reactions.

“That’s right, a full commendation will be added to
his record this afternoon,” Kathleen continued. “Now, anymore
questions? Maybe nothing about Josh here being a hero, as he seems
uncomfortable with them.” Kathleen chuckled heartily, and the
journalists joined in.

Then someone put their hand up. “I have a different
kind of question.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a woman. She
was standing back from the rest of the crowd with her arms crossed
and a recording ball hovering over her left shoulder.

He had the strangest feeling he should know her. Was
she a famous reporter or something?

A second later, Kathleen answered his question as
she gave the slightest huff and said, “yes, Miss Chester?”

Chester. Damn. That was the daughter of Theodore
Francis Chester III, one of the richest men in the galaxy.

“Sick of
being called a hero? What exactly did you do before you joined the
Academy,
Mr.. Cook?” Miss
Chester asked.

Josh stiffened.

“He led the kind of life that prepared him for the
tough missions we send him on. Tough missions that ensure all of us
are safe,” Kathleen jumped in.

“Yeah,
I’m not doubting that. I’d just like a little more detail on
exactly what kind of life that was. How do you respond to reports
from known mercenaries in the Scorpion Cluster who claim they used
to work with you,
Mr..
Cooke?”

“He’s a Special Commander,” Kathleen jumped in.

“I think we all know that,” Mimi countered, “but
he’s also a man. Now, does it make you uncomfortable to read some
of the things your apparent 'former colleagues' said about
you?”

“None of these reports have been confirmed. They are
just the desperate and sad attempts of criminals to tarnish the
record of one of our true heroes.” Kathleen actually took a step in
front of him, as if she was ready to stave off a physical attack,
rather than a verbal one.

“Okay then, so tell us exactly what kind of life
Special Commander Cook led before he joined the Coalition. You said
it was hard, you said he learned the kinds of things he needs to
know to get him through the toughest of missions. What exactly does
that entail?”

“I survived,” Josh managed in a low tone, the first
time he’d spoken up in his own defense. It was also the first time
he’d looked Miss Chester right in the eye.

“How?”

“I really don’t think someone like you would
understand,” he said.

His words drew a muttering laugh from the assembled
journalists.

“Why? Because I’m not the one standing on a podium
receiving a hero’s commendation for a dangerous mission, even
though answering a couple of simple questions seems impossible for
you?”

Josh stiffened. He bristled, in fact. His gut
instinct was to shout at Miss Chester that she had no goddamn idea
what she was talking about. He couldn’t though; he was surrounded
by recording orbs.

Instead he took a calming breath. Or at least he
tried to.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Kathleen
interrupted. “We need time to process the Special Commander’s
commendation.”

Miss Chester didn’t push any further. She returned
to the other side of the room, crossed her arms, and watched.

Despite the fact he’d been doing nothing but
standing, he was out of breath.

In short order, Kathleen shepherded him out of the
room.

She didn’t say a thing as the doors shut behind
them. It was only after she’d fussed with her wrist device that she
looked at him and smiled. “That went well.”

“It did?”

“Sure, you cut quite the figure of a hero with your
broad chest and tall figure. The audience will lap it up.”

“... What about Miss Chester’s questions?”

“Her? No one’s going to believe anything she says.
Trust me on that one. She’s been showing up to these events for
years, but she’s never sold a story. I’m surprised her daddy hasn’t
stepped in to help her out. Then again, maybe he’s embarrassed.”
She shrugged.

Josh didn’t know what to say. On the one hand he
felt thankful Miss Chester and her inconvenient questions would be
ignored, on the other, it felt ... kind of wrong.

Everything she’d said was right: he did have the
kind of past that ought to be brought into the light. And no, he
wasn’t a hero.

“Anyway, you did great, Spec.” Kathleen beamed at
him. “The Coalition needs more officers like you.”

Spec was shorthand around the Academy for special
commander. Somehow, despite the fact there were a dozen other men
and women holding that title, it had become his nickname too.
Better than his previous one: Cold Bones. Back in his old life,
he’d earned a reputation for cruel efficiency.

“Okay, I’ll see you next press briefing.” Kathleen
gave a short wave as she exited the room into the corridor
outside.

Reluctantly, Josh followed.

Rather
than take the usual route back to his office, he took a circuitous
one. There was a nice little laneway in between the buildings that
had a Japanese maple ensconced within patches of moss-covered
rocks. There was even a koi pond. It was peaceful, the kind of
peaceful he sure hadn’t grown up with. Thankfully, it was usually
deserted too
– there was a
glass walkway connecting the command buildings, so why bother going
outside?

He quickly became lost in his thoughts as he marched
outside. In fact, as he approached the koi pound it took him too
long to realize there was already someone there.

It was a woman. Miss Chester to be precise.

She looked up and caught his gaze.

“I can’t believe this.” He snorted. “You followed
me. The interview is over, Miss Chester.”

“... What? I was already here.”

“Yeah, of course. Or did you do your research and
figure out I always walk along this laneway?”

“You’re paranoid. Didn’t it enter your head that
maybe you’re not the only one who likes this place?”

“Paranoid? You’ve been digging into my past, and you
call me paranoid?” Josh spat.

He was
aware he should calm down. No, he needed to calm down. Miss Chester
had every right to investigate his past
– he was a public figure. And, frankly, he had exactly
the kind of past worth investigating.

He couldn’t quell his anger though. It kept bubbling
up at the sight of her.

“Look, it’s okay, I’ll leave.” She stood up and
turned.

He wasn’t done.

“I heard about what you did. You ruined your Academy
career, and now you want to ruin mine.”

She stopped.

He could see the side of her face. Her cheeks
whitened as she pressed her lips together.

Anyone would be able to see he’d just hurt her. He
didn’t care.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Josh might
have had a past, but so did Miss Chester.

...

For a second there, she’d been proud of herself. Out
of all the other assembled reporters at that briefing, she’d been
the only one to ask any real questions. Okay, no one had answered
them, but that didn’t matter.

She’d been brave enough to ask.

Maybe the Academy had found it inconvenient, and
maybe the other reporters had thought she was being unfair, that
didn’t matter. A journalist was meant to uncover the truth, they
weren’t meant to stand around and find new synonyms for the word
hero.

Maybe it was growing up with her dad, but Mimi
didn’t have the same kind of rosy view of the Academy that all her
peers did. She appreciated it, and god knows she was thankful for
its protection, but she also appreciated it had an image. One
crafted carefully through every press briefing and report.

You see, despite the Academy’s rhetoric, the real
world didn’t have heroes and golden boys. It had ordinary people
who sometimes faced the harshest of scenarios. Painting the galaxy
in shades of good and bad, of hero and villain, didn’t help anyone.
It simplified incredibly complex situations and made people less
likely to work hard enough to find lasting solutions.

So yeah, it might have been harsh to call Special
Commander Cook up on his past. But it was necessary. No one was a
hero, no matter how rosy their past. But Josh? It sounded like he
was about as far away from a hero as it was possible to get.

Well, right now he was standing in front of her,
seething.

“You’ve got some real nerve looking into my past
when your own is just as tarnished.”

“That’s not fair,” she countered quietly, her voice
barely above a whisper.

“Fair? You want to talk to me about fair?” Special
Commander Cook spat. “You grew up in the lap of luxury, shepherded
and protected, with your every need cared for. You always have your
father to turn to. Well, some of us aren’t that lucky, Miss
Chester. Some of us had to survive in a hostile galaxy. Now, if
you’re done morally judging me, get out of my way.”

Mimi stared up into his blazing gaze.

She’d always been taught that if you wanted to
become a good journalist the very first thing you had to learn was
psychology. Minds. Motivations. They were behind every single
story. If you understood how a man’s mind ticked, you knew exactly
why he did what he did. And if you could transmit that
understanding to your readers, you would prove your worth.

So even though Cook’s gaze was fierce and his words
even more so, she didn’t back down. Instead she lifted her chin and
continued to consider him. “I have faced hardship before, Special
Commander Cook.”

“You had trouble figuring out how to spend all that
money?”

“Every day I pick myself up. I walk back into an
Academy full of cadets who hate me. They insult me, I pick myself
back up. They tell me I can’t make a life for myself as a
journalist, I pick myself back up. They hack into my recording orb
and wipe it, and I pick myself back up. And I keep picking myself
back up. You can storm away from me and ignore my questions, you
can shout at me and berate me, but Special Commander Cook, I will
pick myself back up.”

She watched his mouth open, she watched the anger
spread across his features, then he hesitated. Maybe he actually
heard her, or maybe he paused long enough to realize that a proper
commander doesn’t shout at journalists. A proper commander is
always calm, approachable, and authoritative. And never, ever
abusive.

“So,
Mr.. Cook, are
you going to answer my questions now?”

Slowly he closed his mouth, his lips pressing into a
thin line. “No comment.” With that, he turned on his foot, his
shoes digging into the grass. Then he stormed off.

Mimi could have followed him, but she knew enough
about psychology to realize that despite his rank, Joshua Cook
certainly wasn’t calm and approachable. If she pushed him, he’d
likely throw her out a window.

So she comforted herself with the thought that there
would always be tomorrow. She wouldn’t give up. She’d keep pushing
on until she found out the truth. But she wouldn’t do it no matter
the costs. There were lines she would never cross. And maybe that
was the real reason Mimi couldn’t cut it as a journalist. Though
she was desperate to get to the truth, sometimes to get to it you
had to hurt people.

So she would skirt the thin line between compassion
and journalism for now.

He was seething. As soon as he got back to his
office, he was going to engage in a good session of sparring with a
holographic enemy. He wanted to punch something, and the only way
to make that feeling go away was to actually punch something.
Preferably something that wouldn’t get him chucked into prison.

Though he tried to convince himself that he hated
being called a hero, he’d hated Miss Chester’s questions even
more.

While she was right, and he did have a past, he
couldn’t have it brought into the light. Though in part he wanted
people to know where he’d come from, if he told the truth, he’d be
stripped of his rank. And if he was stripped of his rank, he’d lose
his only reason to exist: destroying the Rebuilders and keeping the
Coalition’s enemies at bay so he could slowly expunge his sins one
good deed at a time.