I met his bright blue gaze. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good. I don’t love goin’ out there. So I’m hopeful the water and electrolytes will keep you going during your shifts.” He grinned. “And now that I’ve seen you, I’m hoping eventually my keeping you alive will lead to me getting laid.”

This time I wasn’t offended. Tyler had been easygoing out there. His little digs and Southern-sounding sayings kept me moving when all I’d wanted to do was throw down the stupid hose and give up.

“Keep trying,” I joked back at him. “Maybe you’ll get somewhere in the next decade.”

“Shit. I knew my luck wasn’t that good. I’m out of here in two months.” He came back to squat in front of me. He took my wrist in his hand and scanned through my vitals readout on the suit.

I studied his face as he checked on me. The guy was sweet and charming. He seemed too good for this place. “How long have you been here?”

“Couple years. It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

“What’d you do?” It was rude to ask, but he was nice. I wasn’t getting the murderer-rapist vibe from him at all.

He raised an eyebrow. “Now that’s a story that needs a beer to go with it.”

“There’s beer here?” I didn’t drink often, and I’d only been seriously drunk once, but I wasn’t opposed to it. Especially if it helped get me through my time on Abaddon.

“Nah. On the mining side and for officers, sure. But not for us workers.”

“Figures.” That would’ve been too good.

He rechecked my readings, then dropped my wrist. “Vitals are normalizing. Color’s getting less tomatoish. How’re you feeling?”

I groaned. “Like I don’t want to go back out there.” I really, seriously wasn’t looking forward to it at all.

“It’ll get easier I’m sure.”

He might be sure, but I wasn’t. Not even a little bit.

He patted me on my shoulder. “Ready?”

“Nope.” But I took the hand he offered me anyway.

“Tyler!” A man wove through the maze of containers to stand in front of us.

He wore the traditional SpaceTech formal uniform, with the pants and dress shirt despite the heat, but what caught my eye were the gleaming medals—the two silver stars marking him high up in the SpaceTech command—and the way his eyes narrowed with disgust as he stared me down. I had a feeling it had nothing to do with how sweaty I was.

“Yes, sir.”

“Status report.”