The second slap, a backhand, hits my other cheek. That one I didn’t have time to think about stopping.
The third slap I stop an inch from my face, grabbing her wrist tightly.
“If you’re done beating me up, Allie – let’s talk strategy.” I turn to the leader of our triad. “Daccia, we’re going to the dining hall.”
“Go,” he nods. “I can handle descent and landing. AI shows no hostile forces – and if something comes out of nowhere, I sure as hell can out-pilot them.”
There isn’t a man, woman or Toad who could claim to be Daccia’s rival behind the thrusters of a Reaver.
Allie struggles against my hand, still wrapped around her wrist.
I keep hold of her for two long seconds – just long enough to make my point – and then I let go. I leave her rubbing her wrist and head to the dining room. Kitos follows. A moment later, I hear her footsteps behind us.