Tala moved from exam table to bed to cot, assisting the medical robots and occasionally guiding them as she grew more confident in her skills. An hour had passed since she’d returned to sickbay, and she hadn’t heard any further word on the progress of the mine detector. She had, however, injected her concoction of drug and enzymes into every man that she passed—and a few women.

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, deciding 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.