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without answers tried to erode her focus on the task at hand.
    Behind her in an odd, background drama, the problem pillar disappeared in a transport wash. The two men turned to leave and then spotted Doc and the explosives. One of them started to curse. Doc ignored them, her attention on the woman and the bomb. Doc didn’t fight against the multiplying thought streams, just let them spin around the core concern, her focus never straying from the heart: the bomb wires.
    “How much time, ma’am,” her assistant asked, a slight tremor to his voice.
    “About thirty seconds.”
    The two men cursed again, but didn’t move.
    “Where the foxtrot is EOD?” one of them snapped.
    “Do you know how to defuse a bomb, ma’am?” The corporal’s tremor was worse.
    The question was a good one, though a bit late in the asking. She found the wire she wanted, tracing it with her thoughts as the timer moved closer to detonation.
    “No, but I stayed at a Holiday Inn Express last night.”
    The spurt of laughter from the men eased external and internal tension. Doc channeled the positive energy as she eased her knife under a wire and severed the connection. She cut the other side, lifting the detonator clear with five seconds to spare. She didn’t use the spare time congratulating herself.
    “Hold that.” She handed the detonator to the corporal. “Need to check for secondary triggers.”
    “A Holiday Inn Express? Last night, ma’am?” Relief colored the young man’s voice.
    She smiled and shrugged, as she let her whirling thoughts move on to the next problem. One clear thought emerged from the clutter: when she’d planted the idea of transporting wounded Gadi to the Doolittle , she’d thought it would be safer. The attack had happened here. It was reasonable to assume the threat was here. But the presence of C-4 removed that certainty. She frowned. Though it couldn’t have come from the Doolittle . It had been out of galaxy for the last two years. Still person or persons had been either selling military supplies and/or conspiring with someone among the Gadi. The secondary assassins who’d come after the bomb weren’t from Earth, though she didn’t know if they were Gadi.
    “You’re a pistol, ma’am.”
    She half grinned, even as her brain produced more areas of concern. The bombing had to have been planned to foment more distrust between the expedition and the Gadi. The conspirators hadn’t meant for this bomb to be defused. Their investigators could have identified the C-4 from the residue, but would the Gadi have allowed them dirt side for that investigation if there’d been two explosions? And would the expedition have sent anyone—risking more expedition lives?
    Doc had a feeling that if the Leader and the general were among the dead, the answer wouldn’t just be no, but hell no. And if the General had died on Gadi soil? Bad enough that they’d lost people here, but in the confusion following the loss of the General, who would have assumed command? It would be useful to know chain of command—civilian and military.
    A transport wash flashed in front of her, and when it was gone, six tough-looking men with strange gear stood there.
    EOD had arrived to take charge of the bomb. Doc hoped they didn’t “accidentally” lose it.

Chapter Three

    Doc rubbed her eyes, but it didn’t help any more than the last thousand or so times she’d tried it. Lieutenant Simmons, who looked a bit wavy around the edges, waited patiently for Doc to respond to her request. It felt like being back in medical school, which was kind of comforting in a weird way, though she couldn’t explain why or how.
    “I feel like I didn’t sleep.” Doc admitted this with a rueful chuckle.
    “You haven’t slept, ma’am. Sorry.”
    “Oh.” So she felt like she was supposed to feel.
    “Can I get you some go juice, ma’am?”
    “Thank you, Lieutenant. Coffee does seem indicated.” She tried the eye rub thing again, with the same