Anger rose inside him as the glass settled, but he kept his
voice steady. “You’re confined to quarters until further
notice, Lieutenant. I’ll see you on the Cazadora.”
She stared at him for a moment, as if not believing what
he’d said. Then she turned and stalked away, smashing a
few more bottles for good measure.
“Make sure she makes it there in one piece,” Up spat at
Pedro, who nodded, wide-eyed, and ran after her.
Up rubbed his temples again as he turned to face the
looming aliens behind him.
Her quarters were spinning. She had only moved into
them recently, after being promoted to a full Lieutenant, but
she was fairly sure that they weren’t supposed to be doing
that. She had finally managed to find her bed, after Pedro
had helped her to the bathroom just in time to puke up most
of what she’d consumed. She’d caught a glance of herself
in the mirror and she was a mess, blood crusting on her
eyebrow, her short hair sticking up everywhere, spilled
alcohol staining her shirt blue and yellow. She’d stripped
down to her bra and underwear, her uniform ruined, before
remembering that Pedro was there and kicking him out
before he got too much of an eyeful. She thought about
returning to the bathroom to clean herself up, but instead
crawled under the thin military blanket and curled up,
wanting to die. Her head was reeling and her stomach doing
the salsa. She had never felt this awful in her life. How
many drinks had she had, anyway?
More than she’d needed, after Up – she curled herself
tighter in embarrassment. She’d fairly thrown herself at
him, and he’d been understandably disgusted with her culo
borracho. What had she been thinking? That because of the
way he’d kissed Mrs. von Tuppington on Europa he’d want
to do the same with her? When the truth was that really he