This was, actually, true. Klein had a very particular napping schedule, and woe be unto the man who was near him if he had to skip one for something trivial, like running the most important ship in this sector of the Meridan border. In this particular case, however, it prevented the admiral from telling the Viking that Rogers had requested that she be moved to the next room.

Deet, who still refused to enter Rogers’ room, had been stationed outside his doorway. The Viking had roughly shoved him aside before she’d punched Rogers in the face, causing him to fall on his back. By this point, however, the quirky droid had gotten back to his feet, and Rogers saw a little metal head poke its way into the doorway.

“You know we have a briefing in ten minutes, right?” Deet asked.

“Yes,” Rogers hissed, “thank you very much for interrupting this conversation.”

“Oh,” the Viking said. “I see you’ve got yourself a new shiny as a pet, too. So, you’re a coward and a droid lover.” She spat. “How would you like it if I took the thing you trained for all your life and tried to automate it?”

Rogers could see something resembling genuine hurt on the Viking’s face. It confused him for a moment, as he wasn’t really used to seeing anything except rapid vacillations between uncontrollable rage, a desire to shoot things, and a desire to train to shoot things better.

“I already told you I didn’t volunteer for the AIGCS. I blew them all up, didn’t I?” Rogers tried to edge closer to the doorway, but he was floating. “You’re a damn fine commander—at least, that’s what all the marines tell me—and I’d never want to see you replaced by a stupid machine.”

“Hey,” Deet said.

The Viking looked at him, narrow-eyed. Her jaw worked slowly, the muscles in her cheeks tensing. Was the Viking being . . . vulnerable? Just the brief pause in the threat of physical violence put Rogers off guard. He struggled for something to say to keep her around.

“I’m having trouble interpreting all of this,” Deet said.

“Shut up for a second,” Rogers barked.

Deet didn’t seem to be very interested in shutting up. “Is he still trying to tell you about how he wasn’t escaping from the garbage chute?”

“Don’t talk to me,” the Viking said.

“Don’t talk to her,” Rogers said.

“You don’t talk to me, either!” the Viking shouted, pointing at Rogers. All of the emotion in her face vanished in an instant. “I don’t care if we have to share a bunk. I’m not associating with the likes of you.”

“What if Admiral Klein were to order you to share a bunk with me?” Rogers asked before he could stop himself.

“Bah!” the Viking threw up her arms. “If I thought I could reach you, I’d come in there and hit you again. Just stay out of my business!”

She stormed off, leaving only Deet in the doorway. Rogers finally came within push-off distance of his wardrobe, and he shot over to his desk, where he retrieved the Ever-Cool ice pack he’d taken to keeping in his room. He seemed to be getting hit a lot lately. Pressing the ice pack to his forehead, he floated back over to the doorway.