Mac was my partner, my best friend, and my wife. Sheila McBride, innocent looking redhead with a mean right hook, we met in a bar fight. I don’t drink, but my crew does, and Gary3 tried to pick her up. He was pretty insistent, and she had to belt him - one punch and he was out.
“Congratulations,” I told her, “you just knocked out the scout with the tenderest glass jaw in five systems.”
She eyed me. “Maybe you want to pick up where your buddy left off?”
“Not me,” I said with my best wide-eyed expression. “Gary is always ticking people off, then leading with his chin. That’s why he’s on his third clone now.”
She laughed. It occurred to me that she was the prettiest looking thing I’d seen since going to space. Even if she was a wolfbabe. That was before.
Before she betrayed us all and put a price on our necks.
