“All right, you two go down to the ore docks. The gunnery sergeant and I will go to my office and look over her designs. Happy?”
Torin wouldn’t have called the expressions the Grr brothers exchanged happy.
Craig got slowly to his feet as the hatch from the station into the ore dock opened. With only a maximum of two hours and seven minutes remaining, he was expecting Torin. He got Doc.
“And the level of bugfuk crazy rises to code red,” he muttered, watching the other man cross toward the ship. No way he could have been heard, but Doc paused, glanced over at the storage pod, then changed direction.
When he got close enough, Craig realized he looked weirdly peaceful.
“How’s your foot?”
“The one you cut the toe off?” Craig couldn’t stop himself from glancing down. “It hurts like fuk, thanks for asking.”
“If fukking hurts, you’re doing it wrong,” Nadayki called from inside the pod.
“He sounds chipper.” Doc dropped into a squat and gently angled Craig’s foot so that he could see the wound.
“Yeah.” Craig fought the urge to pull his foot free and plant it in Doc’s face. “Apparently, the Marine Corps can kiss the kid’s lime-green ass; he owns their code.”
“Good for him,” Doc said absently as he examined the place Craig’s toe had been. “I don’t approve of you removing the dressing, but the seal’s holding. Edges look good.” Strong thumbs barely skimmed along Craig’s instep. “There’s a lot of bruising . . .”
“It’s not bruising, mate. My foot’s always been purple.” He frowned. “And green.”
“Well, I apologize for the inadvertent damage caused by my grip.”
“You what? You cut off my fukking toe and you’re apologizing for inadvertent damage?”
“I intended to cut off your toe—Captain’s orders. I didn’t intend to bruise the rest of your foot.” Setting Craig’s foot carefully back on the deck, Doc straightened, tucking a strand of hair back behind his ear. “If there’s time, I’ll replace the sealant.”
“If there’s time? You going somewhere?” It had to be Doc leaving; there was no point in replacing the sealant if they intended to dump him out an air lock. Craig had seen the condition Rogelio Page had been left in.
“I don’t know. Hope so.” His mouth twisted into something that didn’t exactly resemble a smile, and as he turned, he said quietly, “It’s funny.”
Craig couldn’t stop himself. “What is?”
For a moment, it seemed Doc wasn’t going to answer, then he stopped and shrugged, the why the fuk not almost audible. “It’s funny where you find the things you’ve lost. Always the last place you think to look.”
“Well, yeah. Because then you stop looking.”
Doc stiffened, pivoted on one heel, his pale blue eyes flashing a more familiar, crazy-ass expression in Craig’s direction. But all he said was, “Good point.”
Craig watched until the air lock door closed behind the other man and the telltales were red again, then he drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay,” he muttered. “That was weird.”
“That was Doc. He’ll lovingly heal you so that you’re in good enough shape for him to beat to death.”
Leaning around the edge of the hatch, Craig found Nadayki kneeling in front of the seal to give his back a break. “You don’t even know what I was talking about.”
“Doesn’t matter.” The young di’Taykan twisted just far enough to sneer at Craig, his eyes light. “It’s Doc, so weird only ever means one thing; it’s the point where medic and maniac overlap. Either/or, that’s one thing, but both . . .” His hair flicked out. “Both at one time is too fukking weird. Too weird for fukking,” Nadayki added with a snort. “I don’t think he’s gotten laid since me and my thytrins joined the crew. That explains a lot.”
It would to a di’Taykan, that was for sure. “Don’t you have work to do?”
Nadayki flipped him a very Human gesture and bent back over the seal.
The sound of the hatch opening pulled Craig out of the storage pod. He didn’t recognize the two Krai swaggering across the ore dock toward him, but he’d definitely got the impression this area wasn’t open to all and sundry, so they had to be down here for a reason. Something about them pinged, but they were almost to the pod before he realized what it was.
Doc moved like danger, barely contained. Like he had nothing to prove.
These two moved like they were more than willing to prove how dangerous they were. Doc’s movements