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Smoke led the way into the cockpit.
Grayson whispered to Keltie. “This guy’s awfully eager to get going.”
“A little weird,” Keltie said.
Grayson ran his fingers along a bruise on his arm from where Smoke punched him. It was the size of a peach.
Keltie looked at the bruise.
“Grayson, that's really bad,” she said.
“There's a first aid kit on this ship somewhere,” he said, pressing the bruise tenderly.
“We’ll transfer to my warship,” Devika said.
“Got it,” Eddie said as he slid into the pilot seat. Everyone else gathered in the hallway.
“You okay to drive?” Grayson asked.
“You're not,” Keltie said.
Grayson grimaced.
Smoke reached into a compartment below the navigation dashboard. He grabbed a first aid kit, and he threw it.
Grayson barely caught the box—it almost slipped from
