looked

you think will help. You're on compassionate leave too," he added.
It was impossible to feel ill toward the man.
"You may talk to Doctor Wu if you wish, also," he said supplementally.
"Why would I—?" she began. He interrupted her with a word:
"Delph'."
He knows. She paused for a moment. "I'll be fine, sir, but thank you."
"If you are fine, where's my incident report? I plan to crucify every single one of them." His voice was very controlled, with steel underneath.
She garbled incoherently for only a second, then said firmly, "You'll have it tomorrow, sir."
"Fine. Then see the doctor. It will also help you deal with Marta."
She agreed and disconnected.
Back in the common room, Marta was sobbing still and had gone through a good part of the bottle. Approaching gently, but loud enough to be heard, Kendra softly said, "Hey."
Marta looked up and her face was again a shock. More surgery would be necessary before it reverted to physically pretty. As for that inner smoldering beauty, it might never resurface. "What?"
"Naumann says there's an expert on the way. In the meantime, you'll have to make do with me. And I'm not leaving until she gets here," she insisted firmly. "I'll do what I can to help."
"Thanks, love." Marta nodded aside. "Not that there's much you can do, unless you can arrange a quiet cabin where I can torture people to death."
That statement triggered an