Chapter 5 Rohn
“Nervous?” Jaxar leaned against the wall, cradling a mug of the bitter, dark brew Terrans liked.
“No,” Rohn said. His friend made a striking image with his dark complexion and patterns of white, black, and gold tattoos. The mechanic preened, assured of his own pretty face, and it irritated Rohn. Who was the male showing off for? They were alone and still Jaxar insisted on posing as if potential mates would walk through the doors of their barracks.
Insufferable, vain male.
“You may confide in me,” Jaxar said, his tone magnanimous. “You are merely a pilot and not often required to do anything more taxing than sit in a chair. Your physical prowess is questionable.”
Rohn narrowed his eyes, trying to determine if Jaxar wanted to taunt him into a brawl or if this was his mise
