"We've a vague idea. Don't worry, Boss'll get it sorted out," Evan said reassuringly, saluting James with a two-fingered sign of respect, rather than clapping a hand on his arm, to avoid jolting his injury. He and the doctors stood back as the small company made their way towards their waiting shuttle, which had hopefully held its own and had suffered better luck than they had, meaning no surprise attacks or sudden breakdowns.

As the soldiers shuffled off, Evan nudged Bentley with his shoulder. "Good job today, doc."