Irene flipped a middle finger toward the windscreen, at the lead ship. “Lieutenant Striebich, you feel strong romantic affection for the lead pilot?” Nert expressed surprise from the jump seat behind Irene. “What? For that jerk?” She turned in her seat to glance at their liaison officer. “No!” “But,” Nert sputtered, confused. “You made a gesture to initiate mating?” “I did n-” Nert continued. “Is not your middle finger a human gesture meaning ‘fuck you’?” “Oh God,” Derek broke into laughter, as Irene’s face grew beet red. “He is right, Irene. You’re sweet on your Kiwi boy up there?”
