She’d encountered Katie on the way back, running around in her flight jacket and swinging with a knife at anyone who gave her a surly look. It had taken some sly sneakiness to slip the injector past her defenses when she wasn’t prepared. Juanita had been easier to inject—she’d only peered curiously at the device and asked if her clue about sweat had helped Tala find the “cure.”
Treyjon leaned against the wall in sickbay, ostensibly standing guard but mostly bantering with Orion while one of the robots finished patching up his leg wound. Angela and Juanita were also in sickbay, having assisted Tala with the other dozen men who’d injured each other grievously enough that they’d had to come in. Her patients were stable now, and Tala felt satisfied that she’d managed to help so many. Though she thought it was foolish that it had come to this. She wondered if Sage had assumed his special Star Guardians would be more unflappable in the face of the nebula than the soldiers he’d previously served with. In reality, they and their heavily muscled frames likely had more testosterone than the average soldier, whether legitimately or artificially.
“My head is starting to clear,” Orion said, rubbing the back of his neck and getting off his cot as the robot rolled away.
He limped a little, but with the technology here, cuts were easily bound back together and grafted over with new skin. He and Juanita sat on the deck against the wall, shoulder to shoulder.
“Me too. I’m remembering the important things in life.” Juanita leaned against him, but also tapped one-fingered notes into her smart phone.
Orion leaned over to look at the screen. “Such as?”
“Love. Compassion. Freedom. Writing down story ideas for the new novel I’m working on.”
“Uh huh, I thought so.”
“The heroine is going to be a doctor on a spaceship full of mercenaries.” Juanita beamed a smile at Tala. “Sort of like Black Company. In space. With Croaker being a woman.”
“As usual, I don’t know what you’re referencing,” Tala said, stepping back from the man she’d been patching up with the help of one of the medical robots.
“Just know I’m using you as inspiration.”
“I thought you said you were using a healer from one of your favorite comics for inspiration,” Orion whispered. “Someone with super powers.”
“Now I’m using Tala. Since she came up with the brilliant antidote to fix our surliness. Though she will have genetically enhanced capabilities. And perhaps wear a superhero cape.”
“Dr. Matapang,” came a voice from the doorway. Sage. “I’d like a word with you. Please.” He tilted his head toward the office.
He had removed his combat armor and wore a crisp, clean black uniform, the sleeves rolled up as usual, revealing the corded muscles of his forearm and the winged fire falcon tattoo. She remembered him in the more revealing—and tantalizing—tank top, but told herself there was no reason to dwell on the image. There was no point in being attracted to him. It wasn’t as if they could have any future together.
Especially not when he was back to being hard to read. The fact that he wanted to have a private discussion made her suspect he had a lecture in mind. Or a reprimand. As if she was his employee. She was working her ass off for him and his crew. She didn’t mind that—she would have hated to twiddle her thumbs in the rec room—and she did feel she owed him something for rescuing them from the slavers, but that didn’t mean he had the right to lecture her.
Nonetheless, she followed him toward the office. Juanita and Orion both raised their eyebrows in curiosity.
“Are we going to squabble again?” Tala asked as Sage stepped into the office with her, letting the door slide shut behind him.
He gazed at her, seeming to consider the question. Earlier, while under the nebula’s effects, he’d started looking a little scruffy. Sometime in the last hour, he’d found an opportunity to shave and at least comb his fingers through his short hair.
She found herself noticing his lean, angular features and his scars, one at the bottom of his chin and another at the corner of one eyebrow. They didn’t detract from his handsomeness. He was actually striking when he smiled and his eyes glinted with humor, but those were rare occurrences. She thought of the words he’d said the day before—or had that been earlier the same day?—when they’d also been face to face in this office. You can get everything you ever wanted and not have what you need.
What did that mean? That he felt something was lacking in his life? That he missed having a family? A wife? Children?
Tala certainly knew what it was to be so consumed by a career not to have time to go out and look for someone. She’d had a handful of boyfriends over the years, and lived with Jorge for a while, but the lack of free time and always being tired and stressed had never made her good girlfriend material. Or maybe she just wasn’t good girlfriend material, in general. She got crabby when people were in her space all the time because she was already tired when she came home and just wanted to veg out with a book or TV. She’d never been surprised when her boyfriends had broken things off. Sometimes, they hadn’t even done that. They’d just stopped calling, and it had taken her weeks—or months—to notice.
It hadn’t been until she’d bought the house for her mother and felt she’d fulfilled her obligations to “succeed and do something with yourself” that she’d started to question why she was giving her whole life to her work, work that often stressed her out and frustrated her more than it satisfied her.
Did Sage ever feel that way about captaining his ship? That it didn’t leave time for relationships? And that the work, while worthwhile, was gradually stealing his life away?
“No,” Sage said, startling her—she’d almost forgotten what she asked. He stepped forward and clasped her forearm lightly, smiling faintly, though it seemed sad. “I don’t want to argue with you because I like it too much.”
Tala frowned in confusion. What?
“And I appreciate all the help you’ve given me and my crew,” Sage went on without explaining the first comment. “But…”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Was he trying to control his temper? His grip didn’t tighten. Tala noticed how close he was and that he smelled clean and masculine. Pleasant. Even… appealing.
He opened his eyes and seemed to study her face. He reached up and touched her cheek, brushing the backs of his fingers down it, and a warm tingle crept through her body.
She abruptly found herself thinking of sex and when the last time she’d had it had been. Earlier that year? The year before? She might not be good at relationships, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a woman and didn’t enjoy being touched. Hell, she enjoyed more than that. Who didn’t?
Sage lowered his hand and sighed. “Do not drug me again without my permission, Doctor.”
She grimaced, her thoughts of his appeal disappearing. They were going to argue.
“The enzymes,” she started to explain, but he cut her off.
“Were not the only thing in that injector.” He frowned sternly at her. “My reflexes were slowed in that corridor outside of engineering. I didn’t realize until… I almost didn’t push you out of the way in time. And I’m lucky to have brought down Hierax’s device. I was fortunate that it zigged into the path of fire instead of away from it.”
“Sage, you were faster than your young ensign when it came to all that. I hardly think—”
“My thinking and my reflexes were slow. And I didn’t realize they would be until that second.” An anguished expression flashed through his eyes that she couldn’t fully interpret. Had he thought she would be shot with one of those pellets? Or was he distressed that he might not have been as superhuman as he usually was? “In another situation, that slowness, and lack of awareness that kept me from compensating effectively, could have been fatal.”
“The drug was supposed to calm your mind—the minds of all the aggressive men. That’s all. I didn’t think you’d let me inject you if I told you about it,” Tala admitted, decid
ing she couldn’t give him anything but the truth. He would see through prevarications.
“I know. Don’t do it again.”
He released her arm and walked out of the office.
Tala clenched her fist. She’d been trying to help him, damn it.
12
“That should do it, Captain,” Hierax said from the science station next to Commander Korta.
He was acting very respectful and polite after his antics in engineering. Zakota and Ku were too. Those of the crew that Tala had injected with her concoction still seemed on edge and snapped at each other, but they weren’t leaping for each other’s throats or swinging knives at people. Soon, they would be able to get out of this nebula and back into normal space.
“Good,” Sage said. “Feed the location of the hidden mines to Zakota.”
“Already got them, sir,” Zakota said from the helm. “I can plot a course out of here now. Damn, I’m glad we waited. That many, Hierax?”
“So, it seems.”
“We would have hit one for sure. I’ll have to be careful, even knowing where they are.”
“Don’t take any risks,” Sage said. “We’ve taken enough.”
Sage gripped his chin as he gazed thoughtfully at the view screen, the ship’s running lights and the distant sun illuminating the purple haze out there. The gate was visible in the distance, though it would take them an hour to get to it at their slow, mine-avoiding speed.
He was half-tempted to check in on Tala again, though she surely didn’t need anything from him. She was busy operating on his crew. That was the reason he’d forced himself not to lose his temper at the way she’d tricked him. He understood that she’d felt she was doing it for his own good, but when he’d realized he was under the influence of something that dulled his mind and his reflexes, it had been all he could do to contain his fury. He didn’t even drink alcohol because he loathed having his senses dulled in any way. Out here, in command of his ship and his crew, he had to be sharp.
He didn’t think he’d been harsh with Tala, but maybe he should apologize? Or thank her more sincerely for the work she was doing. Even if he’d objected to that drug, it—or maybe the hormone injection—had cooled his irritation and made that itch less noticeable. He ought to go back down there and let her know he appreciated her.
Is that all you want to do?
Sage frowned at the question that came from the back of his mind, even if it was a pertinent one. Did he truly want to thank her, or did he just want a reason to go back and lock himself in that little office with her? To step forward and take her arm again, to touch her face. To kiss her again. He’d almost done that already, when he’d been standing so close to her in her office. Even though he’d been angry about being drugged, he’d also been impressed that she would dare do it, that she had come up to the bridge, fully intending to relieve him of duty if she’d considered it merited.
He would have a hard time dropping her off back on her home planet and flying away from her solar system. Forever. He would much rather keep her exactly where she was now, serving as the doctor for his ship. And working in a place that he could reach for an in-person visit in a mere thirty-seven seconds. Not that he’d counted.
A faint shudder rippled through the ship as a mine blew up as they passed. It was far enough away that it didn’t deplete the ship’s shields, but Zakota cursed.
“Talk about some touchy mines,” he grumbled. “All I did was look at that one.”
“You do have an ugly look.”
“Shut up, Ku.”
“Come over here and make me.”
They traded challenging looks, but neither got up. Their banter wasn’t as dark and surly as it had been before, and Zakota didn’t truly look like he wanted a fight now.
Thanks to Tala.
Sage was tempted to fantasize more about her staying aboard his ship, but that wouldn’t do any good, except to get him hard, and this wasn’t the place for that.
He drew his mind back to the present and to those mines. They were all Zi’i technology. So, what were they doing out here? Why were the Zi’i blocking access to the Scyllan wormhole? Or had the Scyllans purchased the mines from the Zi’i? If so, that was alarming, because it signified a relationship the Scyllans had always refused to have with humanity. Since they had never been willing to speak with anyone from the Confederation, trade had certainly been out of the question.
He hoped they wouldn’t find any surprises once they entered the Scyllan System. The Falcon 8 had to fly from one side of it to the other to reach the gate that would take them closer to the Gaian system. Thanks to intel and the old star maps from those early diplomats that had ventured into the Scyllan System, he knew there were six gates in total there, making it one of only a couple of systems in the entire galaxy with that many. Being near the center of the galaxy, it would have been a great hub to have access to, had the aliens allowed it. As it was, the Confederation only knew where four of those six gates went, all of them because they’d flown into the system by accident from the other side. That had been back when humans had been exploring the galaxy, taking every gate they could find just to see where it went.
One led to the Cronos System, one toward the Gaian end of the galaxy, and two went toward the opposite sides, one toward Zi’i space and one toward Confederation space.
“Be prepared to run the mine detector once we go through the gate too,” Sage said. “It’s possible the Scyllans have some caltrops sprinkled on that side too.”
“Won’t that be fun?” Zakota asked.
“I could shoot some as we pass,” Ku said. “Make them less of a threat for the next people who come through. Or less of an obstacle for us in case we have to come back this way.”
Sage flattened his lips. “We’re not coming back this way. We’re finishing our mission.”
He always finished his missions. So what if this one was self-appointed?
Besides, if he didn’t drop Tala off soon, he would have a harder time doing so. It was primal and savage, he supposed, but he wanted to keep her for himself. Because she was a good doctor and his ship needed one.
And because you want to have sex with her, that voice taunted him again.
Make love to her, he corrected it with a frown.
Do you love her? Or have you just been admiring her face? And her tits. And her ass.
He grunted in annoyance at the voice. It wasn’t as if he’d seen those things, except through her clothing, which wasn’t that revealing. He just liked the fiery look in her eyes when she argued with him. And he’d like to be the one to give her a place to practice her skills without the politics and manipulation she dealt with back home. It sounded like she would like that.
“That should be all you need of me, right, sir?” Hierax stifled a yawn and left Korta’s station. “I’m supposed to be off-shift now. I wouldn’t mind hitting my rack.”
“Don’t you have a mess to clean up in engineering?” Sage asked, thinking of the soot from the exploding booby traps he’d made.
“Already got my automatons working on that.” Hierax winked.
“What about that musical instrument I asked you to look up and make?”
“Uh, I didn’t look it up. Or make it. We’ve been busy.”
“Picking fights with each other, yes, but consider it an order to create it.”
Hierax scratched his head. “You going to play soothing music to calm the Scyllans if we run into them?”
“Perhaps.” That certainly hadn’t crossed Sage’s mind, but let Hierax think that he had some work-related reason for wanting a violin. He didn’t need his crew gossiping behind his back because he was having a gift made for Tala.
“You’re the boss, sir.” Hierax shrugged and walked out.
“Glad we have that established again,” Sage murmured, shifting to watch the view screen.
They were creeping closer to the gate, but so slowly that it didn’t look any larger on the screen. He ought to remain on t
he bridge as long as there was a threat out there, but Zakota wouldn’t fly any better with him hovering over his shoulder and watching. If anything, it might make him more nervous.
Maybe he would go down and visit Tala again. To more thoroughly express his appreciation.
His groin stirred at the thought of what that might involve, and he silently told it to knock that off. Just because Tala had shared some of her past with him didn’t mean she was interested in having him appreciate her. Not in that way.
13
Tala washed her hands and then her face in the small sickbay sink. Most of her patients had left, taking their wounds—and a fresh injection of her concoction—to their quarters to rest there. A couple of men with more grievous wounds remained on the beds as the nanobots she and Eridanus had programmed repaired internal damage left by stabs. When the Star Guardians got in fights, they didn’t pull any punches—or knives.
She rubbed the back of her neck, feeling the tension there and in her shoulders. Part of it was from the work and the long day, but part of it was from Sage’s stupid parting words. What a grump he was. Maybe she’d been wrong to sneak a drug into him, but at that point, she hadn’t been certain an injection of the enzymes would do anything. The drug she’d picked out had seemed a superior option to sedating the entire crew.
Grumbling to herself, she headed to her office.
“The office,” she correctly under her breath.
It wasn’t hers. She didn’t belong here, and she wouldn’t be staying long. She’d simply been using the office because it was close to the patients who needed her, and because it was preferable to have a private spot rather than the cot-filled rec room where she had to listen to the conversations and snoring of dozens of other women. Angela and Juanita hadn’t been staying there lately, either. Of course, they had Orion and Treyjon to share cabins with. And beds.
Sagitta: Star Guardians, Book 3 Page 11