Page 16 of Dark Survivor (The Qaldreth Warriors #2)

“Is everything on the table?” Tiny asked and stepped back when the spicy-sweat smell of Nikko came too close to her.

“Looks like it. Want to sit by me?” Grunt shuffled.

She threw out a hand to stop him. “No, thanks, I’m not hungry. I’ll feed the animals.”

She left amid their cries of surprise, and a “We don’t need milk,” from Leah.

Alone time would give Tiny the space to figure out where her frustration, sadness, anger, and despair were coming from.

Being a doctor in space wasn’t as wonderful as she’d thought it would be.

She didn’t get to be useful often. Making breakfast and tending to the animals had become favorite chores, a way to contribute.

The miasma of chicken shit mixed with pigs and cows assaulted her nose.

She winced, swearing she could smell colors.

Throwing out a hand, she trailed the wall to the rear of the pens to the pigsty.

Thankfully, Dieter was a man of habit, leaving the scraps bin in the same place.

A tap of her toe confirmed its location.

She grabbed and emptied it into the trough, also located with a nudge of her foot.

The pigs grunted and snorted, almost in greeting.

The chickens puck-pucked around her while she sprinkled their feed from a bag she’d taken off the wall.

Finding the two cows was harder since they moved around.

She had only to pause and sniff to locate them.

Dieter would feed them later and muck out the stalls.

Both tasks were beyond her abilities. She found a cow’s hindquarters and rubbed along its back to the head.

It bumped her, not hard enough to knock her off her feet, though.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she crooned. A skim of the collar identified which cow she’d found. “Spots, honey, how have you been?” She pressed her temple to the older cow’s while rubbing her behind the ears.

When the cow stomped her feet, Tiny leaped back. “I get you. I also need some space, y’know. Where’s Moo?” she called and received no response.

No surprise there. With a sigh, she stretched out her hand and walked, searching for a wall she could follow out.

Maybe she could learn a new skill though her mind blanked on what.

Regardless of her decision to stay or leave, she had to wait until they docked somewhere nice.

She didn’t want to try surviving on a destitute colony or a run-down orbiting station.

As she saw it, Maddy was her only option. Which meant dancing again.

Tiny sniffed, willing the tears not to fall.

Maybe artificial eyes wouldn’t be that bad.

Bile rose to merge with the lump in her throat.

If she could get over her revulsion, the next hurdle would be the cost. She doubted she had enough tokens for half an eye, let alone two fully functioning eyeballs.

So on the Mula Pesada she had to stay because Celestial had barely paid her enough to survive.

She hurried past the laughter coming from the mess and headed to her room.

A quick shower to clean away chicken shit clinging to parts of her would be the first order of the day.

Hopefully, when she was ready for her coffee, the mess would be empty.

She wanted no one to bother her. Today, she was determined to force herself to face the fact that she was alone in the universe, and she had to plan accordingly.

She stripped, tossed her clothes into the wash-box and activated the spray, letting its warmth run over her.

Having not known about the nonexistent water rations, she hadn’t thought to buy shampoo or soap, for that matter.

Rinsing was all she could do until they next stopped at a station.

She pulled on her uniform, stamped on her boots, and this time, buckled herself in.

‘Onward and upward,’ her father used to say.

He probably still did, but she hadn’t recently spent enough time with him to hear it again.

The mess was quiet when she snuck in, heading for the coffee machine.

She pressed all the right buttons and rocked on the balls of her feet while it percolated.

In went milk and too much sugar—a sheer luxury—before she trudged to her ‘office.’

“Morning, Computer,” she said. “Anything new to report?”

She had the computer monitor the crew in case of medical emergencies, like the captain on the cusp of a heart attack, or Dieter jerking himself off with too much force and causing a friction burn.

She snorted at her unkind thoughts. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t find her attractive, and she shouldn’t change the way she treated him based on that fact. Still, it was hard.

Becoming blind had pulverized her self-esteem. That made no sense since she was the same old Tinika, just without her vision. On sad days, she was so grateful she’d taken lovers during her studies. She’d need those memories to sustain her, even the not-so-pleasant quickies.

“Morning, Tiny. No incidents to report. Should I resume your audiobook?”

She sighed and slumped in front of her chessboard. “Please.”

She scooped up a pawn and ran her thumb over its head. Thank the Lord for Grunt. If she didn’t have the space operas and Gibs to live through vicariously, her life would be dismal indeed. No, she needed action. She leaped to her feet and grabbed the sterilization spray to clean her med bay again.

‘“Lord Fields will see you now.”

He jerked back, snapping his gaze away from his partner.

The receptionist wore a bronze-colored suit sharp enough to draw blood.

He jumped up, running a hand over his uniform, conscious of each wrinkle.

Beside him, Naomi glowed with grace and vitality with her hands shoved into her pockets in nonchalance.

Where she was golden, the Renovare receptionist was somber—midnight-black hair, dark walnut skin, and coffee-colored eyes.

Her beauty was striking, so he glared at her, too.

“Thank you.” Naomi gestured to the woman to lead the way.

He made the same gesture to Naomi. It wasn’t as if he had an attack of chivalry, having dragged his manners from antiquity. No, he needed to see her hands, anticipating another strike. Her fury festered, and if he was lucky, he’d make it home with just a tongue-lashing.’

“New crewmate for you to document,” Nikko’s voice penetrated the med bay. “Dieter is showing Vic the rounds. And breakfast was delicious. We missed you, though.”

“Pause audiobook,” Tiny grumbled and set the spray aside.

Weeks would go by without a change in her day-to-day life, then bam, she had injuries and someone to assess.

With a long exhale, she stacked out everything she’d need on the still-damp table. Time ticked by. She shuffled on her feet then huffed, sinking into the chair again.

“Resume audiobook.”

‘“I am Ms. Anna Zeta, and I will escort you to Lord Field’s office.”

“He’s meeting with us personally?”

Gibs hissed at Naomi for beating him to the punch. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged with as much gentleness as a pissed-off divorced male could muster. “Let me ask the questions, rookie.”

Naomi stared at his grip, then raised her gaze to meet his. “Of course, Detective Shaw.” Instead of stepping back and breaking his hold, she closed the distance between them, her breasts an inch from his chest. “Synth.” She nudged her head at Ms. Zeta.

Not liking Naomi’s citrus scent tantalizing his nostrils, he released her wrist. Nor did he like the fall of her hair feathering across his shoulder. He shrugged off her tendrils as if they held magical powers, as if where they touched, they enchanted.’

Footsteps preceded the guest. Dieter’s stomps were recognizable, but the more delicate tap-tap told her she was about to meet Vic.

“Pause,” Tiny said but didn’t jump up, just in case Dieter strode past the med bay for the bridge.

A waft of sunbaked scent with a feminine musk made Tiny smile.

Yes, she needed someone other than Leah to chat to.

As much as she tolerated the taciturn woman, talking to her for too long became tiresome.

The topics up for discussion were restricted to weapons, work, or food, and Tiny was never to ask personal questions.

That hadn’t been a pleasant experience. Leah had avoided Tiny for days, all because she’d asked if Leah had a nice childhood.

“I thought Dieter would never bring you.” Tiny beamed at the doorway.

“Had to see the chickens first.” A woman chuckled. “But we saved the best for last.”

Such sweetness lifted Tiny’s hopes. “Wait outside, Deets.” She rose from her chair to slide her hand along the steel table.

“I’ll check on lunch,” Dieter called, but he hesitated. A few moments passed before he marched down the passage.

Ah, now that was telling. Tiny forced a giggle, wishing she had such an effect on her hero. “I see you’re making an impact…”

“Sorry about yesterday. I saw bullies scaring the shit out of a weakling.”

Tiny froze, then checked if she gaped. Vic was that woman? What bullying? No, Nikko and Dieter wouldn’t do that. It all had to be a misunderstanding.

“Nikko’s scowl is quite intimidating, or so I’m told.” Tiny pointed to the med bay gown. “Please strip and put that on.”

“Nudity doesn’t bother me.”

Fair enough. It wasn’t an issue for Tiny either. “It may appear like I’m intruding on your personal space, but I see through my hands. I apologize if they’re cold.”

The texture, the amount of information her fingertips gathered, the super-fine scarring said so much, not to mention, the clear delineation of muscle.

“Mm, you are in prime condition. The implants are new and well done. I’ve never encountered such a masterpiece of craftsmanship.” Tiny grinned.

“How do you know about the implants?”

Tension thickened the air, but Tiny dismissed it, finding it hard to believe Vic would hurt her, regardless of yesterday’s antics.

She held up her hands. “Cybernetics respond differently to flesh. Yours are almost imperceptible, along with the barest of scars. Your new limbs must have cost a fortune.”

“Yes.” Though it was a one-word answer, humor laced Vic’s tone.

“I’ve documented everything. You may dress.” Tiny sprayed her hands, sterilizing them. She bit her lip, not sure what to say. Dieter’s interest in Vic made sense. The woman had the body of a goddess. “Be gentle with him. He’s a sweet man.” Tiny winced, wishing she’d shut her mouth.

The rustle of fabric and the magnetic clips of boots snapping into place confirmed Vic was dressing. “Who?”

Tiny squeezed her eyes shut, then blurted, “Dieter.”

“I’m not interested in him.” Vic’s smothered voice had to mean she was putting on her shirt.

Tiny released her breath in a whoosh. Thank goodness though that didn’t mean Dieter would turn to her for some…companionship. Despite it being forbidden. He hadn’t even tried. That smarted, too.

“Does he know?”

“Know what?” Tiny didn’t look up, choosing instead to fiddle with her tools.

“That you like him?”

Tiny gasped and glanced at the door, grateful he stomped. “No,” she mumbled.

“Why not?”

Tiny dropped her chin to her chest. How to explain to a woman, a new crewmate, how shitty she felt about herself and why? No, she didn’t want to go down that path when all she’d hear were platitudes.

“You’re beautiful as you are, Tiny. He would be a fool not to see that.”

Tiny snorted, tears pressing at the backs of her useless eyes. “Right, and now that you’re here—”

“Tell him I have someone.”

“You do?” Tiny snapped her head up.

Vic hummed. “In a way.”

Tiny inched closer to sniff. “Is that the man I smell on you?”

Vic laughed. “What does he smell like?”

“Sunlight, hot rocks, sheer masculinity?” Like real sunlight, the kind only experienced on the outskirts of the domed cities. Dad had taken her once to the sand dunes, spinning tales of seas that were now dead.

“Yes,” Vic said, her voice husky. That sound alone told Tiny she spoke the truth. Whoever the man was, Vic was attached emotionally.

Tiny’s twitching fingers nudged a vial. “I’ll send you the results of your bloodwork.”

Vic strode to the door, her faint footsteps now etched into Tiny’s memory. “Mind if I visit you?”

Tiny froze, unsure she’d heard her correctly. “Sure.”

“You’re the only one without a hidden agenda.” Vic sucked in a shuddering breath. “Here, I can be myself.”

Hidden agenda? Like what? “You’re welcome anytime, Vic. I’m alone for the most part.” Damn if Tiny didn’t sound sad.

She almost squeaked when Vic clasped her hand. “See you later?”

The door swished open, and the familiar smell of oil and grease told Tiny who stood in the doorway.

“Sure,” she said then waved at Dieter. “Bye, Deets.”