“Talk to me, Chief.” They were two hours out from the MLP and close to three from the Peleliu, and it wasn’t going well.
“Go ahead, Craftmaster.”
Nika cursed, hopefully too softly for the intercom to pick up. “Can we cut the Craftmaster crap, Chief?”
“No. As long as you are at the controls, you have command. She’s your ship.”
Figured.
She had an Army Ranger who she’d finally noticed had been granted far too easy access to her emotions. And seeing that damned military ambulance had driven home just how deep that access went. Nika was also a long way from deciding whether it was comforting or embarrassing or pissing her off having him sit so close behind her and watch every move.
Now she also had a commander who was insisting she was in command and the situation was getting ugly. There
