by Dr. Cole Ormont » Thu May 31, 2018 3:51 am
Cole met the other man’s eyes. “We were near the border of Imperial Space when we intercepted a distress call. Small vessel, shot to hell, we took a small boarding party to sweep for survivors. The one we found assumed we were hostiles come to finish him off, and acted accordingly.” Shrugging, “Imperial Space, a lot of the details are still classified, but I didn’t have time to be worrying about my own wound when it suddenly became critical that we get off the vessel.”
Running a hand through his hair, “the downside to energy weapons is that, when they’re self-cauterising,” Cole lifted his head so he could gesture with both hands, “a bunch of things that aren’t supposed to stick to each other get fused.” He continued to make vague indications, “so I had to get the team to open me up,” a hand drifted down and rubbed at the thickest part of the scar, where it crossed his abdomen.
He might have elaborated, letting his fascination get the better of him, but his eyes were drawn down the younger man’s muscular chest, over the scar he carried. Cole knew almost every inch of Niall, committed to memory from days of long-term care, but there was a distinct difference when they weren’t separated by glass. “I didn’t wind up in a tank, I have no right to complain.”
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