Survivors - Jean Lorrah [35]
“How about my quarters, after your next watch?”
“It’s a date. Now go away and let me work.”
“Is it work, Tasha?” He came up behind her, strong square hands on her shoulders, kneading her tension away. “Yes-you’re working too hard. Relax. The gun is an extension of your hand. Point it like a finger. Target practice is just a game-“
“Just a game? That from the man who moped for three days because the ship’s computer beat him at chess?”
“Someone on the last crew programmed it to cheat,” he asserted staunchly. “Sestok had to reprogram it. And don’t change the subject. You don’t need this kind of accuracy to take out an enemy-you’re just honing your skills here.”
“Mm-hmm. You don’t want me good enough to beat you.” She said it lightly, but there were times Yar resented Dare’s competitive nature, especially when it came head to head with her own. She could not make him understand the difference between them: Dare played to win. Yar worked to survive.
But her fiance understood her desires, if not her motivations. His hands were still on her shoulders. Now he turned her to face him. “Tasha,” he said, “I want you to be as good as I am.”
“Not better?”
His smile was self-mocking. “Better than perfect?”
She chuckled. “Nobody’s perfect.”
“No, not at everything. But there are some things-Tasha, why do you think I push you so hard? I want you to be happy, and to you that means perfecting your skills as a Security officer.”
“Not entirely. Having you….” She let the sentence trail off.
His smile was sweet and open this time, and then he kissed her. She melted contentedly into his arms.
When they broke apart, he murmured, “Relaxed now? Feeling good?”
“Mmmm.”
“Try the target again.”
“Dare!” She stiffened in outrage.
“Go on,” he urged. “That’s an order, Ensign.”
“Damn you,” she muttered under her breath-not loud enough for her superior officer to hear, even though it was Dare-turned, and put fifteen rounds smack into the center of the target.
Dare was looking up at the monitor when she turned back to him. He grinned. “Personal best.”
She looked up. Sure enough, every shot was clustered within a five-centimeter radius. When she looked at Dare, so smug and self-satisfied, fury at him and delight at her performance combined to prevent her from speaking.
“Now,” said Dare, “tell me you didn’t pretend it was me you were shooting at.”
Yar gasped. “Of course I didn’t!” Then she added, “Not that you wouldn’t deserve it if I had.”
“That’s my clever girl,” Dare approved. “Use your feelings-don’t let them use you. See you after watch.”
And he left her there, half indignant, half aroused, half delighted, half confused … and with never a thought to how many halves that added up to since she had enough emotions stirring for at least two people anyway.
Later, when they were both off duty and relaxing in Dare’s quarters, she asked him, “Do you use the same technique you used on me today with all the trainees?”
He laughed. “I don’t think it would work very well with Henderson, do you?”
Jack Henderson was a good head taller than Dare and built like an ore carrier. What he lacked in agility he made up for in sheer weight and muscle power. When he had a chance to set himself, not one of the security personnel aboard the Starbound could knock him over, including Darryl Adin.
“All your female trainees, then?”
“I’ve been nerve-pinched in the line of duty, Tasha; I don’t care to casually invite it,” he replied.
Oh, yes-T’Seya.
“Besides,” Dare continued, “teaching security procedures is like being in the field: one uses what is available, and adapts it to the target.”
“Oh-so now you’re thinking of me as a target?”
He did not answer immediately, instead studying her for a moment. He was wearing a meditation robe, and sitting cross-legged on the bunk. The Starbound was a small ship, and while the Chief of Security did have a private cabin it was neither large nor luxurious. There were only two chairs,