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"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 fu
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 fu
"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 blown large.
Craig gri
When they stopped in front of him, he realized that not all the mottling on their faces was natural. He resisted the need to touch the purpling on his own face and waited. They looked at him. They looked around. One of them went around him and looked into the storage pod while the other seemed to be deciding how he'd taste with a nice red sauce.
Then Thing Two called Thing One away from the pod, pointed at Craig, and said something in Krai. Craig knew the same Krai most non-Krai did-the profanity-and recognized none of what had just been said.
Or any part of the reply. Although he knew better than to generalize with other species, it sounded like Thing One disagreed.
Thing Two reiterated.
Thing One stared at Craig for a long moment, nose ridges opening and closing slowly, and said something that sounded very much like a solid maybe.
And then they both gave him a look that involved red sauce.
Fuk it.
"Can I help you, mate?"
"Big Bill sent us," smirked one.
"To keep an eye on things," sneered the other.
And apparently, that was all they felt had to be said.
Given the choke hold Big Bill had on the station, it probably was. Either the captain's paranoia was justified and Big Bill was up to something, or Big Bill suspected Cho was up to something. At first glance, the second option seemed more likely if only because Craig knew Cho was up to something. Upon reflection, the first was just as likely if less absolute.
Honor among thieves was a myth.
Apparently satisfied that Nadayki was doing what he was supposed to, they wandered off to examine the head and the storage lockers. They snapped the sink down out of the bulkhead then back up again. They opened every door, every drawer, stared at the HE suits, turned to stare at Craig.
Craig leaned back against the pod. He didn't have to explain. Captain Cho had ordered the suits out onto the dock. They could take it up with him if they didn't like it.
Then Thing One, looking right at him, lifted the sleeve of one of the suits and bared his teeth. Thing Two laughed. Wouldn't it be fu
"Be fu
"Shut up, you ass. You don't know who they are."
Barely audible in spite of proximity, he sounded truly freaked, the ends of his hair tracing short, jerky arcs against Craig's cheek. Craig bit back his initial reaction and said at the same volume, "So tell me."
"The Grr brothers."
"The Grr brothers? You're shitting me, right?"
"I wish. If Big Bill wants somebody eaten, and not in a fun way, they're the ones who do it."
"Eaten?"
"Yeah." Craig felt as much as heard Nadayki swallow. "And I heard they like it better if the food's still screaming."
"That's… unpleasant." And over the top. And, frankly, trying way too hard. Maybe they were scary to a station full of losers who couldn't live within the broad parameters of the law, but Craig had seen Torin's face when she'd learned the polynumerous plastic aliens were using war as a social laboratory, and these two, they didn't know shit about being scary.
"Big Bill's sent them down here to keep an eye on things. He must know I'm going to be done early."
"How?"
"What?"
"How would he know?" Craig brushed an agitated lime-green veil away from his face. "Who's going to tell him?"
"He could be listening in."
Craig thought about the captain voicing his suspicions about Big Bill's plans. "He'd have a bigger reaction than just those two if he's been listening in. Besides, no signal in the pod."
"Hardwired."
"It's a storage pod for explosives, kid. It's a big box with reinforced walls."
"Okay, you're so fukking smart, why are they here?"
Still messing about the storage cabinets, the Grr brothers-and Craig had trouble even thinking that with a straight face-had found the abandoned tools. One of them was swinging the broken pipe wrench in lazy circles while the other sorted through the screwdrivers and ignored him. "Best guess, Big Bill's a paranoid s.o.b. That, and there's fuk all honor among thieves."