Page 15 of Dark Survivor (The Qaldreth Warriors #2)

Chapter Nine

Lunar Base

‘Gibs swiveled his seat to face his…new partner. He folded his arms across his chest and activated his enhanced vision to monitor her temperature and pulse. “Who the frack are you, and who did you blow to land me as your partner?”’

The marked board and pieces were a gift from Grunt. In all this time, she had yet to beat Computer.

“Knight G1 to F3,” Computer intoned, sounding bored.

She patted the board, found the white piece, and moved it.

‘Chapter Five,’ the audiobook continued.

‘Gibs’s jaw still stung, and his reflection in the metallic coffee table hinted at the bruise forming.

Thrusting his gray-laced black hair off his temple, he blinked at his hazel eyes and his unshaven jaw.

Laugh lines implied he’d once been happy in life.

He twisted his lips in derision, drawing his gaze to the bruise again. ’

Tiny applauded at Gibs getting punched for his rudeness. “Good for you, Naomi.”

“Tiny, you got incoming. You won’t believe this,” Dieter said, his voice loud in the quiet confines of the med bay.

“Computer, pause audiobook.” She set the knight down. The pieces were heavy, made of stone, and on one side, Grunt had carved ‘B’ or ‘W’ so she’d know what their colors were.

“I’ll kill her, I swear,” Leah cried out, stomping along the passage.

“Now, now, Leah, it’s not her fault. It did look like we were picking on a weakling.” Trent’s heavy boots preceded Leah. “Tiny, busted fingers. The rest of us, a couple of bruises.”

“Computer, x-ray, and give me the info,” Tiny said, gesturing to Leah to place her hand on the sterile table.

“Distal, middle, and proximal phalanxes broken on three fingers. Hairline fractures in the metacarpus.” Computer’s monotone didn’t calm the tension in the room.

Tiny nodded, prepped a pain injection gun, and let it rest on the table.

The warmth pouring off Leah’s hand told her where she’d rested it on the table.

The heavy breathing from her right said from which direction.

Tiny thrust her hand out to catch Leah’s wrist, then with swift movements, she jabbed the gun into her forearm.

Leah hissed.

“Sorry,” Tiny said, having not meant to cause further pain. “Some people hate needles.”

“I’m some people,” Leah said through gritted teeth.

“Let me know when you can’t feel anything,” Tiny said.

“Heat is spreading like warm water,” Leah said.

“Good.” Tiny offered her a gamine smile. “Shouldn’t be too long now.”

A minute later, she stroked Leah’s hand from her wrist to the forefinger and grimaced. “Feel that?” she asked when the heel of her palm nudged a bone that wasn’t supposed to be there.

“No,” Leah said.

Tiny got to work, gently nudging the bones into place, using the sensors in her fingertips to guide her.

In ancient times, surgery would’ve been needed.

But these days, as long as the med-tool was updated, it would align the bones more neatly than a scalpel could.

And to imagine, she’d studied for years to be able to use either.

She splinted the index and middle finger together, then the ring finger and pinky.

Once done, she ran the med-tool over the hand just to make sure.

It encouraged the body to heal itself and quickly, too.

“Done,” she said. “Come see me if you continue to feel pain.”

“Thanks.” Leah slumped off.

“Trent? Who else?” Tiny waved the med-tool.

“I got kicked in the chest. Nikko got punched. The only person not injured is Grunt.”

She faced Trent. “Want me to scan you?”

“Nope. I deserved this. Little thing like that… I didn’t expect her to wallop me that hard.” He chuckled. “Damn impressive.”

“Farg no,” Nikko said from the doorway.

Tiny jerked back, having not heard him approach. “How’s your face?”

“Scan away.” He neared her, caught her left hand, and held it to his face.

She smiled, thankful for the consideration. Where she cupped his jaw helped her run the tool over him. “Need pain meds?”

“What I need is a shot of brandy,” he snapped. “That wasn’t pleasant.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“Some woman thought we were bullying Webb and intervened. She had skills way beyond the norm.” Trent sucked on something then rolled it along his teeth, making a clicking sound. “She did solve the problem, though, when she realized she’d messed up.”

“I don’t give a farg about that,” Nikko growled. “She hurt Leah bad. That’s not right in my book.”

“Nikko, Captain wants to see you,” Computer said.

The man huffed and stormed off.

“It was epic. I wish you could’ve seen it, Tiny. She moved with speed, her attacks were precise, and she didn’t even generate a sweat like kicking three people’s asses was commonplace for her.” Trent bounced from side to side, excitement in his rushed words.

“Nikko and Leah are livid, though,” Tiny said, packing away the med-tool.

“Yup, which means pizza and drinks tonight,” Trent called when he left.

“He’s not wrong,” Grunt said, drawing a squeak from Tiny. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

She splayed her fingers across her chest, her heartbeat thundering against her rib cage.

“She’s smart, too—knew I was recording her. Had me delete it, but I kept the backup. There’s something familiar about her, Tiny,” Grunt said, his tone distant. “I’m going to do a little digging.”

“Good,” she said. “Let me know what you find out.”

“Will do,” he said, strolling down the passage.

Well, now that was entertaining. Tiny hoped she didn’t run into that woman.

She’d be a sitting duck, unable to see the strikes coming.

And as pathetic as her self-defense skills were, even had her eyesight been 20/20, she’d have been in a worse state than Leah with her broken fingers.

No, here on the Mula Pesada was the safest place for her.

“Computer, resume audiobook.”

‘He’d chosen the crudest words, pushing Naomi too far, but he needed to see what she was made of, to test her boundaries. Grudging admiration engulfed him in warm waves he dismissed with desperate bitterness. There was no finding his partner attractive—he wouldn’t stand for it.’

Tiny picked up the bishop and chuckled. “Oh, it’s too late for you, Gibs.”

He sliced a glance at Naomi. She held her back ramrod straight and had crossed her slender legs at the knees.

Her pinched ruby lips announced her foul mood, and he’d caused it.

One day, over a beer, he’d explain his reasoning.

But he wouldn’t apologize. Not when some sick frack toyed with his career, assigning a rookie to him.

He glared at her while fondling his aching jaw. She had a mean right hook.

Amid laughing, Tiny commanded Computer to pause. That was enough for today. What she needed was a hot, sweet cup of coffee and perhaps an early night curled up in bed while binge-listening to her current space-opera fave. It didn’t take her long to find her room and settle in for the night.

They say it’s a luxury to awaken without alarms. Did that include pounding? Or was that her head? Tiny gripped her temple and sat up, knocking the half-eaten popcorn onto the floor. A whir preceded the house-cleaning bot, so she dared not put her feet down until the thing was done.

“Tiny.” Someone banged on her door again.

“What?” she snapped.

“It’s your turn to do breakfast,” Trent yelled through the thick metal.

She scrambled to her knees, then froze. “Gimme five.”

“Sure. I’ll stall Nikko. No problem.”

She winced and grabbed the clothes she’d tossed aside.

Quick fumbles showed her what she’d picked up, and sniffs told her whether she could wear them one more day before they went into the wash-box.

She whipped off her pajamas and shimmied into leggings and a baggy T-shirt.

Though not Mula Pesada uniform, it would do for now.

She’d change after stuffing her stomach and savored one…

no, two coffees. When the bot clicked off, she bolted for the boots she left at the door.

Sliding into them but not bothering to do them up, she thumped to the mess to start on the morning meal.

Scrambled eggs, toast, sauteed mushrooms, sausages were on the menu. She had the toast on and the sausages sizzling while she beat the eggs into a creamy batter with sprigs of parsley, salt and pepper, and a splash of Moo’s milk.

Dieter had named the poor cow. She tried not to find his sense of humor entertaining.

“He’s never going to see you as someone to date,” she snapped, whipping the eggs with a little more gusto than she usually did.

Her arm throbbed then cramped. She banged the door when she shoved the bowl into the microwave and hit the first button for one minute.

Every time it dinged, she stirred the eggs until they were cooked.

Turning the sausages, frying the mushrooms, and toasting more slices of bread had to be done with a little more care, lest she burned herself.

“Smells so good,” Grunt said when he strolled past her to the fridge.

“Thanks.” She flashed him a tight smile.

She gripped the counter, drew in a deep breath, then squared her shoulders. With or without Dieter, she’d find her happily-ever-after eventually. Or at least get laid. She huffed at her silly hopes, grabbed the eggs, and slammed the microwave door.

“Whoa, someone’s in a mood,” Trent said, striding in. “Need any help, babe?”

At his sweet offer, she melted, letting her anger fizzle. “I didn’t sleep well,” she lied.

“Too many space operas. What are you listening to?” he asked, sliding along the bench when she placed the sausages onto the table.

“Space Guerillas Attack,” she said, her tone casual.

“Oh, no,” Grunt gasped. “That has forty-two seasons.”

She beamed. “I know.”

“Morning,” Leah growled.

At her usual foul mood, illogical anger flooded Tiny and ripped away her good mood. If she hadn’t signed a contract, she’d return to Maddy. Any female companionship, no matter how hazardous the job, was better than nothing at all.