“Answers would be nice,” Paz muttered petulantly. “This place gives me the creeps.”
“How did you ever end up in the Corps?” Malia slipped through the door and swept the beam of her flashlight over the room – not a library, as she’d hoped, but some sort of office, in more disarray than anything they’d found yet.
“Really good test scores. And I can hit a bullseye at 500 yards, which squeaked me by the psych.”
“…Our psych eval needs evaluating.” She picked the smallest desk and sat down, carefully, in the chair.
“Well, what about you, Miss Loves-Everything?”
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