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Wren glanced at the controls, and a smile tugged at her lips. He’d been busy while she’d been asleep. Every system seemed operational, and there were no alarm lights flashing. The air also tasted cleaner, and the metallic, burning smell was gone.

She slid into one of the two empty seats in the cockpit. It took a moment, but she discovered the communication portal link and accessed it. She dialed in the Apocalypse code and opened a channel.

“This is Wren Tulloch calling the Apocalypse. Are you receiving me?”

There was no response.

“Apocalypse, this is Wren. We’ve crash landed on Signus X. We could do with a hand to get off this pile of rock.”

“You’re wasting your time.”

She turned in her seat. Striker stood in the doorway, a metal tray in his hands. His hair was messed up; he had a smear of grease on one cheek and stubble on his chin. Her insides tightened. It should be illegal to look that hot. Nope. She wasn’t going there. Those hot kisses they’d shared had been a mistake.

“Where have you been? I woke and couldn’t find you,” she said.

“Checking the supplies on the ship. The provisions are basic, but I’ve got something that passes as breakfast.” Striker took the other seat and set the tray on the floor between them.

She inhaled deeply, and her mouth watered. “Is that coffee?”

He grinned and passed her a mug. “Only the finest instant on this hunk of junk. I know how you Humans love your caffeine hit in the morning.”

She grabbed the mug and took a sip. “This is heaven. Where did you find it?”

“While you were snoozing, I was looking around and raiding the supplies. The Gente have lots of odd cargo.”

“I get the impression you’ve been doing more than just looking.” Wren reached over and touched the grease smear on his cheek. “You’ve been busy.”

He grabbed his own mug and kicked his feet up onto the console. “I get bored if I have nothing to do.”

“Does that mean we can get off this rock?”

“Not yet. Give me a few more hours and this baby will be airborne. I was hoping to have the comms system online by the time you woke, but there’s still a glitch. It may even have been broken before the crash. It works for a second then dies.”

“I just tried sending a message to the Apocalypse. I don’t think it got through.” She picked up a protein bar off the tray and sniffed it.

“That tastes like dried meat and herbs. It’s not bad. I’ve eaten several.” Striker nodded at the food in her hand.

She took a tentative bite. It was great, and she was starving. “You should have woken me. I could have helped with the repairs.”

“You’ve done enough with the animals. And my energy exchange makes you feel great for a while, but you’d have burned out eventually. Leave the grunt work to me.”

“How are they all doing?” She twisted in her seat. “I should go check on them.”

“No, they’ll be fine for half an hour while you eat something. They’re all good. I looked in on them a short while ago. Most are asleep. I made sure it was warm in there, so it’s cozy for them. I know how you like to spoil these creatures.”

“They deserve it. Having been captured by the Gente, I doubt they’ve seen much kindness.”

“They’ll see it once we get them on board the Apocalypse,” Striker said.

She grinned. Things were okay between them again. Not perfect, but they’d get through this blip. “I’ll be busy for weeks dealing with this lot. I’ll have to sample their genomes, test for disease, and see if we have any breeding subjects.”

“Don’t get too comfortable in your lab. Cleo will want us back in the field before long.”

“I don’t mind that. The lab is still my second home, though.”

“Yeah. I heard you’ve taken to sleeping in there.”

Her cheeks grew warm, and she looked away. “Where did you hear that?”