Working Ashore

Foster stared blankly at the midshipman for a moment before his words sunk in. So Sykes hadn't stabbed the officer? He tried not to look as relieved as he felt. In reality, the news hardly made any difference - assault was assault whether one did it with a sword or bear hands - still, it made the situation seem, if only fractionally so, less overwhelming.

"Sir?" he pressed, unsure how to interpret the officer's reaction to his initial question.

"Shut up, shut up! Everyone just shut the bloody hell up!" Deverel snapped, gritting his teeth as he peeled back his jacket. He whispered a curse at the sight of the blood that was seeping through his shirt. The sawbones was going to kill him this time.

"What's goin' on?" Thompson demanded, and blinked at the sight of red blood on the officers' white shirt. Thatwasn't good. "If you've done for an officer...!" If the provosts had done for an officer they'd be in far more trouble than the Terpsies were, for sure!

"Anyone know where there's a doctor round hereabouts?" he asked, looking around. "Sir?" he said, addressing the midshipman.

Docker stared stupidly at the marine. "Just the ones back on board the Defiance," he answered. "But Mister Deverel said he don't want to go back like that."

Deverel interrupted his midshipman. "I'm fine, I'm fine, Docker! I'll just see to it later. You can all... Get back to work."

Back? The flicker of hope the word gave Foster quickly withered with uncertainty. The more he thought about it, the less clear the officer's statement became; a condition less likely attributable to semantics, than to the fact that he was finding it increasingly difficult to think any farther than the pain in his arm."Sir, we are under orders to see that these men return to the work there were doing before you, ah..." Foster fumbled for the right word. There had to be a more diplomatic way of saying--

"Ran away." So much for shutting up. Foster glared at Sykes, but unable to think of an appropriate euphemism, let the expression stand.

Deverel clenched his teeth. "Make yourself useful and go to hell with your orders. Or go and find your officer to tell him that you assaulted a lieutenant. Docker, where's the boats."

"Uh. This way, sir."

Deverel rubbed his eyes and then his entire face with his left hand. "This way then, men," he said in a monotone and began to walk.