stopped in the streets and challenged to duels. It wasn’t
long before the first dead man was on Beatriz’ conscience.
Soon the local police were picking up a new body each
morning from her father’s front yard.
Don Martin was fighting because he had to, fighting to
defend her, and it was all because of her beauty. Every drop
of blood spilled felt like a knife through her heart.
“Hey, Lieutenant! When you coming back to the fight,
eh? Still got some robots to clean up, and you’re down here
just sitting on your arse. You look healthy enough to me.”
Up stopped in his tracks, just before he entered the
hospital cafeteria. The voice was unfamiliar, but it carried
the authority of a Ranger – was there a ship in port?
“I’ll come back when I’m ready to, idiota,” Taz’s voice
replied. “You guys having some trouble up there on the
Bright Eye or something? Need a little help?”
“I hear she’s been screwing the Commander,” said
another. “That’s why she’s still here, cause she can’t get
enough of his-”
“Cierra la boca si usted sabe lo que es bueno para
usted,” Taz said, her voice dangerous.
The voices fell silent for a moment.
“The Commander!” Someone laughed. “Didn’t you hear,
he was all chopped up by the big bad robots on Qo’noS, he
ain’t got no balls! He wouldn’t be enough of a man for
Lieutenant Taz anymore -”
There was a thud, and then shouts and the scraping back
of benches. Up started to move, and then froze again. What
could he do, other than give them evidence that their claims
were true? He couldn’t help her – he couldn’t even throw a
proper punch. He leaned back against the wall, listening to
Taz’s stream of Spanish insults, her opponents crying out in
pain. He closed his eyes, hating himself.