[i]Five minutes, he said...[/i] In Corvo's language, five minutes meant five minutes to the second but Duncan wasn't one for good timekeeping. Rather than head straight to what was undoubtedly a royal dressing down, he took the time to finish the cigarette at his own leisure. It was always a surreal experience, returning to the peaceful campus after a mission. Part of him was still switched on, scanning for silhouettes against the horizon, eyes darting to any unexpected movement; the soldier's sense of awareness that, once gained, was never lost. It was also a pain in the arse for which nicotine was his only relief, so he sparked up another fag as he slowly made his way toward the main building.

Deciding not to head straight up to his superior, Duncan instead wandered toward the infirmary where Xerox, Syrus and Vinzer were being cared for. The lads would likely be off their heads on morphine, but his pet bug only needed a bit of homebrew medicine, something that he could do himself. [b]'Evening Doc.'[/b] The resident physician, Dr Kadowaki, gave him a non-committal grunt in reply, hunched over Syrus' leg. By the number of tools she was going through and the occasional fountain of blood, Duncan surmised that his student had taken a bullet when he wasn't looking. Nothing new there of course; he himself had been shot a few times before, only to be saved any lasting injury by the genius of Garden's very own Head Physician. The lad wouldn't even have a scar. [b]'I'm just going to fix my bug, won't be five minutes.'[/b] After receiving only a vague wave in reply, Duncan set about applying his own brand of rudimentary first aid to Vinzer's cracked carapace, applying duct tape and superglue liberally as well as a few doses of Cure to seal up any serious wounds. It would take a few days for it to recover fully, but at least Vinzer would be functional. A scratch under the chin and the bitebug was hissing contentedly away. [i]Right then... no more excuses-[/i] Just as he was turning to leave the infirmary, an angry voice was broadcast over the local tannoy. [b]'Lerwick, I know where you are. I said five minutes, not [i]fifteen.[/i] Move or so help me God, you will be licking shit off my boots for a month!'[/b] The doctor paused in the ensuring silence, before injecting in a matter of fact tone. [b]'He's serious you know. I'd run.'[/b] He ran.

Jumping up the steps three at a time, Duncan wondered what he had done to deserve this. True, he had never exactly applied himself to his work but if anything that should have got him fired, not made him the Head Instructor's goddamn whipping boy. Not for the first time did he regret not taking a permanent posting abroad... Sure it'd be dangerous, but at least there would be no Corvo to shit on him. He stumbled into the elevator and hammered away at the controls, willing them to go at a reasonable speed for once. To his tired surprise, he noted that he wasn't alone. It took him a few seconds to decide on what to say; what [i]does[/i] one say to someone who may have just lost their entire family? 'I'm sorry' wouldn't cut it, 'Cheer up' was thoughtless in the extreme... In the end he avoided the subject altogether. [b]'... Wish I could have a wash.'[/b] Come to think of it he was still in his full uniform, still had his rifle even. Duncan cast an eye over himself, noticing the grime and bloodstains for the first time. [b]'You know what... I fucking hate fieldwork.'[/b]