Being a pilot had its perks.
And not living in barracks is definitely one of them, Jack Madison thought.
No more spending money he didn't have on cheap motel rooms with badly-sprung mattresses, or sneaking into the motor pool with a blanket in the search for a little privacy.
Owning your own ship, there's something to be said for it.
Of course, the 'captain's quarters' on the Lucky Dip weren't exactly up to the standards of the Cluster's finest hotels, either.
But then, ships have things hotels don't, Jack thought as he let Sella tow him by the hand through the corridors.
And the girl does like her engines.
Sella pushed open the engine room door, hauled Jack inside and kicked it closed behind them. "Get 'em off, soldier," she said, dragging her own shirt off over her head. "I hae ta get back to work before fourteen hundred, those hobbies will nae strip and recondition themsel's, will they?"
Jack grinned, following suit. "Sometimes, love, I'm not sure we're even speaking the same language."
"Oh, are ye no, then?" Sella hoisted herself up onto the top of the warp-core housing and patted the place beside her. "Sure about that, are ye? Or nay?"
"Sure about one thing, love," Jack said, joining her.
Sella pushed him down onto his back. "Aye, an wha's tha, then?"
He grinned. "Sure I don't much care."
"Tha's wha I like in a pilot, soldier," Sella said, leaning over him until her red hair brushed his face. "A good grasp on essentials."
She laughed, gasped, laughed again. "Tha's a start, soldier. Tha's definitely a start."
Yes, Jack thought, being a pilot certainly has its perks.