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Corso blinked awake, his vision swimming. But he smiled when he saw Talle bending over him, slapping a medpack on the blaster burns he’d taken. “Much obliged,” he breathed.
She scowled. “Back to the ship. Let’s go.”
She leveraged an arm beneath him, hoisting him to his feet. He was always surprised at the strength in her lean, rangy frame. “Don’t have to stop now on my account, Captain,” he said. “I still got some fight left in me.”
But: “I want to show you something,” she said shortly, so he followed where she led.
Back on the ship, she headed for the cargo room. Corso lowered himself to a small crate, careful not to pull any of his recently-bandaged wounds. Truth was, he was kinda glad to be sitting for a spell.
“Okay,” she said, “you watch this.” He saw that she was pulling out an array of little practice droids: they fired low-charge electrical bolts that wouldn’t do any real damage if they hit. Stung like a blisterwasp, though.
The droids started to fire. Talle dodged and rolled, seeking cover. All of the bolts missed her, and in a split-second gap in the volley she fired back, taking out the first droid.
At the second, she tossed one of her smoke canisters. Its bolts went wild through the haze, and Talle turned her fire to the third droid. A neat, quick shot to its power center, and it too deactivated.
But the second little droid had moved up, avoiding the smoke, and it had a bull’s-eye bead on her. Corso winced sympathetically, knowing he was about to see her get shocked. It fired—
—and the electrical bolt crashed into a personal defense screen, dissipating harmlessly. Corso hadn’t even seen her activate that. She returned fire, and the last of the droids dropped to the deck.
“Hey,” he said, “I didn’t know you carried one of those. Pretty nice. How’s it powered?”
“Portable battery pack,” she said. “Only lasts about fifteen seconds, but it recharges itself over time.”
“Neat,” he said. “How come I ain’t never seen you use that in combat?”
She rose, holstering her blasters, dusting off her hands. “Yeah,” she said, her voice level and deadpan. “How come, Corso?”
“Uh,” he said. “Uh—because you never needed to?”
“That’s right. Because you’re always jumpin’ in between me and anything shootin’ at me.”
He shifted. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It ain’t a bad thing,” she said. “Not so long as you still know that I can handle myself. I don’t want you gettin’ yourself killed out there, farm boy.”
“Don’t worry about me, Captain,” he grinned. “Ain’t nothin’ that’ll take me down.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it, anyway,” Talle said. And then, in a tone of mock surprise: “Oh, wait! I’m the captain! I do have something to say about it.”
He felt his grin dying away. “Talle,” he said, almost desperately. “Please don’t tell me to stop tryin’ to protect you. I don't—I don’t think I got it in me.”
Her eyes softened, and she walked over to him, settling beside him. Just having her that close made his heart speed up a bit.
“I want you to leave the flare gun on the ship,” she said.
“Aw, Captain,” he protested. “I love the flare gun! It always gets their attention.”
“Seems to me we been through this before, Corso,” she said.
“You mean the harpoon gun,” he grumbled. The harpoon had been a bone of contention between them for some time. Finally he’d swapped it out for a jet pack—and oh, he savored the look on her face the first time she’d seen him use it. Flying right into the middle of their enemies in a swift fiery arc. Well, if she wouldn’t let him drag the bad guys to him, she’d have to get used to him going where they were.
“Build yourself a new toy,” she said. And then, in a coaxing voice: “Look what I picked up on Alderaan.”
She opened her vest, reaching into an interior pocket for a large handful of something shiny. “Hey!” Corso said. “Is that—bondite?”
“Uh huh.”
He took the hunk of metal from her, turning it over in his hands. “Oh, yeah, this is nice, barely dinged up at all. Little time with a blowtorch and—”
She reached out to ruffle his hair. Then, before he could respond to the touch, she was on her feet again. “Rest up,” she said. “We ship out again in six.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” he said.
He’d miss the flare gun. But at least she hadn’t told him to stop looking out for her.
And there were always other guns.