our ships has a missile big enough to do the kind of damage
you’re talking about.”
“No missiles, no,” said Pedro, suddenly stopping. “But
how about half a ship?”
Taz stared at him, and pulled the radio from her belt.
Taz leaned back in her chair, fully clothed, and watched
as Pedro hauled his shirt over his head. The boy might be
an idiota, but he was easy on the eyes. And she was starting
to feel tipsy enough to appreciate that fact.
“Had enough?” she asked.
“You wish,” he said, sitting back down. He’d already
lost his boots, socks, jacket.
“You know, this reminds me of the time at the Academy
when Big Z stole your clothes from the locker room-”
“And I had to go all the way back to our bunk with
nothing but my boots, ha ha,” he said. “Bet you wouldn’t
be so amused if you knew that our class spent most of third
year trying to see who could get in your pants first – there
was a bet on.”
Somehow this didn’t surprise her. “You sleazebags,” she
said. “Nobody won that bet.”
“Big Z came close,” he said, dealing the cards again.
“Shut your mouth,” she said, flushing red. “That was a
bunk party, no one knew what they were doing that night.”
“I made them stop, after a while,” said Pedro, looking
intently at his cards. “I thought you deserved more respect
than that. It must have been tough being the only girl in our
year.”
Taz looked at him, really looked at him now, his dark
hair falling over his eyes. “Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she
said.
“You want everyone to think that,” he countered. “But
you don’t always have to be so tough, Taz.”