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“We did good work,” he said, hating the tension between them.

Wren shrugged. “We didn’t complete our mission.”

“We did way better than our assigned mission. Twenty creatures as opposed to one, and we brought down a squad of Gente bounty hunting scum. We should get a bonus payment.”

“This isn’t about the money.”

Striker sighed. This coldness between them felt permanent. He turned and paced the short corridor, wishing there was more space. He felt the urge to run, to escape. Being around Wren made his head spin. He had to stop caring. This was just a job.

The ship clamped to the docking bay of the Apocalypse.

Striker checked the light was green before opening the ramp of the Gente ship. He jogged out, not waiting for Wren, and breathed in the welcome scent of hot metal and tool cleaner. It was the smell of home.

Cleo and Hunter were striding toward them from the entrance to the docking bay.

Hunter raised his hand. He was number two in the group, the boss’s right-hand guy. Solid, dependable, and always open to a debate.

“You’ve been on an adventure.” Hunter slapped Striker’s shoulder. “Any injuries?”

“Nothing we can’t deal with,” Striker said. He turned to the ramp. Wren was walking down it. His heart stuttered at how tired she looked. He should have taken better care of her.

He held out a hand to her, but she walked straight past him and over to Cleo.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” Cleo’s expression grew concerned.

Wren glanced at Striker. “I’ve been better, but it was worth it. The Gente had a shipment of illegal animals on board. Some died in the crash, but we saved most of them. You should see what we’ve got.”

Cleo smiled, but her attention remained on Wren. “That’s great news. I want you to head straight to the medical bay. Get yourself checked over. It’s not every day you survive a crash landing.”

Wren’s shoulders dropped. “I want to help with the animals. I think they trust me.”

“You should go get looked over,” Striker said.

“I know what’s best for me.” Wren didn’t turn as she spoke to him.

He gritted his teeth and nodded at Hunter. “We need equipment to move the animals.” He strode away, keen to put physical distance between him and Wren.

Hunter kept up with him. “You good?”

“Yep.”

“So why’s Wren shooting you glares? It’s not like her. Has she finally gotten bored with your smart comments?”

“Something like that.”

“Hey, what’s up?” Hunter slowed and grabbed Striker’s shoulder. “If you got injured, you don’t have to hide it. These missions kick our butts. I figured a rotation on a research ship would be a walk in the park after the things we’ve seen, but even I’ve had a few near misses.”

“I’m not hurt. It’s not that.” He glanced back at Wren. She was still talking to Cleo.

Rexx and Ash strode over, looking dusty and tired, as if they’d just come back from their own missions.

Rexx clapped Striker on the back so hard he almost staggered. “He lives to fight another day.”

“What’s a little ship crash between friends,” Striker said. “And we bagged the bonus of illegal cargo. That’ll keep the biologists happy for weeks.”

“I bet Wren was pleased with that find,” Ash said, his smile crooked from the scar that ran across one side of his face. “Did she show you how grateful she was?”

Rexx smirked. “I bet you had fun when you had nothing else to do.”