Naia hissed in pain.
“Hurt much?” the ship’s doctor inquired non-sympathetically.
“It stings.”
“Will she need it bandaged?” Rob asked.
“No. It’s superficial.” The man peered into her eyes. “You were damn lucky.” He suddenly started, and a frown came over his face. “Are you…”
“Yes,” she softly answered.
He nodded but didn’t say anything more. Taking her hand, he laid it on top of the pad he was pressing to the two-inch furrow at the back of her head where the bullet had grazed her. “Hold it there. I’m going to get some ointment to put on it. It should scab over nicely.”
Captain Fairbanks hurried into sick bay, his face ashen from the news. “What happened?”
“Someone with a silencer tried to take us out,” Rob tersely replied. “How’s the waiter?”
“He won’t be using his arm for a while
