“That’s the problem with hypertension. You don’t feel it until it’s critical.” I prepared a dose of medication. “You’re staying overnight for observation.”
“Absolutely not. I have duties?—”
“Your primary duty is to your child and this colony,” I fired back. “What happens if you develop preeclampsia? Who leads then?”
Something flickered in her eyes—fear, perhaps. It was the second time I’d seen such a look on her. After several tense moments, she nodded curtly.
When she was settled in a monitoring bed, Aeon pulled me into the corridor. His broad shoulders blocked out the overhead lights as he leaned closer.
“That was...” He paused, seeming to search for words. “Impressive. Standing up to Helix like that.”
My cheeks warmed at his praise. “Just doing my job.”
“Few would have the courage.” His blue eyes held mine with that intensity I was becoming very familiar with. “You may have saved them both today.”
A flutter rose in my chest—not professional pride but something more disconcerting. Why did his approval affect me so deeply? I’d received commendations from the most respected physicians on Earth without this strange yearning for more.
“Well,” I managed, “even commanders need doctors sometimes.”
His hand brushed my arm. “Especially the good kind.”
I took a steadying breath, painfully aware of his broad chest mere inches from me with his hand lingering on my arm. Heat traveled upward from his touch, making it difficult to maintain my professional composure.
“We should really get started on that advanced training Helix wanted,” I said, my voice coming out huskier than intended. I took a step back, needing distance to clear my head. “Can you gather the medical staff in the main instructional area? About ten should be enough for the first session.”
His eyes—those impossibly intense blue eyes—held mine with an expression that made my stomach flutter. “Of course, Olivia.”
The way he said my name sent a shiver through my body. When did that start happening? When did his voice start affecting me this way?
“Give me fifteen minutes to organize my materials,” I added, busying myself with a tablet to avoid his gaze.
“I’ll handle everything,” he promised, his voice a deep rumble that followed me as I hurried away.
Thirty minutes later, I faced ten eager cyborg technicians in the medical bay, which we’d transformed into a classroom. Aeon positioned himself front and center, his large form somehow taking up even more space than the others despite their similar builds. They all wore identical expressions of focused interest—hands neatly folded, backs straight, and eyes locked on me with unnerving intensity.
“So,” I clapped my hands, “today we’re covering emergency delivery complications.” I glanced at their solemn faces and realized my usual training approach—peppered with jokes and lighthearted medical anecdotes—might not land as expected. “Let’s start with the basics. Who can tell me the warning signs of placental abruption?”
Ten hands shot up in perfect unison.
“Um, Laine,” I pointed to the female technician.
“Vaginal bleeding, abdominal pain, uterine tenderness, and possible back pain,” she recited without inflection.
“Excellent. Now, what’s your first response when?—”
“Assess bleeding quantity, monitor fetal heartbeat, and prepare for immediate delivery if distress is detected,” all ten voices responded simultaneously.
I blinked. “Right. But what if?—”
“If bleeding is minimal and fetal vitals remain stable, close monitoring may be appropriate,” they chorused.
“Okay.” I laughed nervously. “Let’s try something different. How about we practice some scenarios?”
I separated them into pairs for a simulation exercise, demonstrating proper techniques on my makeshift medical dummy. “The key is gentle but firm pressure here.” I guided Aeon’s hands to the correct position on the dummy’s abdomen. His fingers brushed against mine, warm and gentle for hands so powerful.
“Like this?” he asked, his voice low beside my ear.
I swallowed quite hard, trying not to focus on the shivers running through my body. “Yes, exactly.” And why was my heart racing? This was basic instruction. “Just... make sure your pressure is even.”
