Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 by Michael Kotcher Page A

hit on that woman, Martinez, have the balls to do it yourself.  Embarrassing yourself and her like this isn’t going to get her to like you.”  Martinez’s buddied laughed and the young man flushed, tuning away.  Apparently, the cook here was just as formidable as the captain. 
                  Tamara bussed her tray over to the dishline area, where Duchagne was there to meet her.  “I hear that you came aboard on an escape pod, little girl?”
                  She glared at him.  “Thank you, Chef, for the very good meal, but I am not a little girl.”
                  He chuckled.  “From what I hear, you are not… young.”
                  “No, I’m not.  I’m older than you are by a wide margin.”
                  Duchagne smiled.  “Now, now, it’s never good to boast about your age.  And call me Cookie, everyone does.”
                  “All right… Cookie.”  She still had that wary feeling about him, as though he was trying to cover for his friend’s gaff. 
                  “And Martinez?  He’s an idiot, but he’s harmless.  At least he better be,” Cookie growled, turning his gaze over to where the other man was still eating with his buddies.  “But I want you to know, that if you need anything, you come to me.  You’re safe in here.”
                  A tiny crack formed in the ice around her, but it quickly froze again.  “Thanks, Cookie, but this is still onboard the ship.”
                  “True,” he admitted, looking back at her.  Then his face grew iron-hard.  “But this is my mess hall.  Everyone knows this place is sanctuary.  Not even the Captain would dare breach that.  Not if he ever wants anymore of that lasprauga I make for him.”
                  Tamara laughed.  She couldn’t help it.  She smiled at him this time with real warmth.  “Thank you, Cookie.  I will remember that and I look forward to your next meal.”
                  He clapped her on the shoulder.  “I look forward to having you here too!  It isn’t every day I got another beautiful woman to walk into my mess hall.”
                  She looked down.  “Clearly, Cookie, you need your eyes examined.”
                  “And clearly you need your head examined.  Don’t be intimidated by these fools.  This is a good crew and a good ship.  And if what the scuttlebutt I hear is true, you might just make this ship a better one.  Now go, I cannot stand around talking to beautiful women all day.  I have a kitchen to run!”  He swatted playfully at her and she retreated.
                  She watched the stocky little man bustle back into the cooking area, snarling good-naturedly with his staff, who feigned innocence at his accusations.  He was a good man, she wanted to believe it.  Tamara only wondered if she could trust him.
     
                  In a short while, she was back in the cargo bay, making last minute checks on the Perdition .  “Looking good,” she commented, tightening one last bolt.  “Just need to pull the radiation buffers off the engine, fuel it up and she’ll be ready for a test flight.”
                  Ka’Xarian nodded.  “I agree.  I’m impressed at how quickly we’ve been able to get this work done.”
                  Tamara smiled at him.  “Oh, come now, Xar,” she said, using the nickname, “It really isn’t all that much work, though we did do a bit of a marathon session.  Now,” she said, putting the wrench back in her belt, “I just need to get over to the replicator and get my skinsuit out and then I can take this beauty for a ride .”  The Perdition class fighter had a life support unit on board for thirty hours, but with a skinsuit, one could stay on board for another six hours.  While Tamara had no intention of sitting