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Vegas grinned and ducked back into her office.

Nell pretended not to notice the way Heather studied her as she tidied her own desk. She thought she’d been doing a great job of keeping her calm facade in place. Sometimes, she did feel almost normal.

But there were the other days, when no amount of therapy, meditation, or healing crystals made any difference. Today felt like one of those days. She’d be glad when it was over, and she could retreat under her duvet.

She’d have one drink with the girls and make her excuses. So long as the mask didn’t slip while she did that, everything would be fine.

Five minutes later, the three of them left the office and walked along the corridor toward the Enchanted Captain.

“I’m going to have words with Diadora,” Vegas said. “If she keeps working us like this, we will break.”

“I already feel broken,” Heather said. “Too many aliens want our services.”

“She’s still refusing my request for more staff,” Vegas said. “Maybe we should go on strike. Let’s see how Diadora handles the matchmaking on her own.”

“She’d squash you with her cybernetic hand if you did that,” Heather said.

Vegas chuckled. “It’s almost worth the pain. I’d love to see her expression when she realized none of us were working.”

Nell studied her black boots as they walked. She felt the strain the same as everybody, but it didn’t bother her. She could work or not work. She could get to the office at six in the morning, work until nine at night, and it was okay. Work was a kind of therapy. Every day she dunked herself headfirst into dozens of aliens. One day, it would help her get over her worries.

That day had yet to come, but she wasn’t giving up hope. Maybe tomorrow things would be different.

“What do you reckon, Nell?” Heather asked as she nudged her with her elbow.

Nell blinked, realizing she’d blanked out from the conversation they’d been having. “What’s that?”

“About the idea of a staged sit-in in Diadora’s office? Have you got the balls to do it?”

Nell shrugged. “I guess so. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Heather tilted her head. “We get fired. No, Diadora crushes us all with her cybernetic hand and we have to stand and watch until it’s our turn to be punished. Or she throws us out of an emergency airlock and makes us take a walk in space without a suit.”

“All equally terrifying,” Nell said.

Heather tucked her hand through Nell’s elbow. “A drink. That’s what we all need. I’m feeling a bit like a zombie too. We’re not having enough downtime.”

Nell nodded and mustered up a smile. It looked like she wasn’t fooling anyone today, not even herself.

The Enchanted Captain was already lively as they entered the low-lit, well-stocked bar. Someone had put Earth music from the nineteen eighties on the Robotec juke box, and a number of customers were dancing.

Vegas led the way as they walked to the bar. She ordered three large Draxdan sunset magic cocktails, one without alcohol.

“Quick, I see a table.” Heather grabbed Nell’s hand and dragged her along behind her, nabbing the table just before a pair of muscular Draxdans descended upon it.

“It’s a good thing we’re gentlemen,” one of them said as he pulled out a chair for Heather to sit on. “We’ve been waiting for a free table for half an hour.”

“Thank you,” Heather said. “That’s lovely of you.”

Nell nodded her appreciation as she sat down. She kept her gaze fixed on Vegas as she paid for the drinks. Draxdans were so big and bulky; they made her nervous.

“Are you ladies looking for company this evening?” a Draxdan asked.

“Oh, no. We’re just here after a hard day at work,” Heather said.

“Time for cocktails.” Vegas hurried over with the drinks and set them on the table. She nodded a greeting at the Draxdans.

They exchanged a startled glance as they saw Vegas and took a step back.