"Does he ever miss?" Corina asked as the Sandeman continued to shoot.
"I've never heard of it happening, and I'm sure it'd be all over the ship in less than an hour if he did." Medart chuckled. "He spends half his free time in combat exercises of one sort or another, after all, not just the minimums for on-duty training. It's not as good as combat, to their way of thinking, but it's better than what we standard humans class as normal entertainment."
The two were silent then, for the couple of minutes it took Nevan to run out of arrows and signal the target controller to end the session. Then he dove for the floor, used a handhold to pull himself erect, and switched off the gravity neutralizer that isolated the gym from the ship's gravity field.
"Okay," Medart said. "That's it; let's get down to the dressing room and wait for him to get into uniform."
"You stressed the need for speed," Corina said as they left the observation platform. "Why do you not speak to him while he changes? I cannot, I know; having a female around would embarrass a human male."
"Or vice versa." Medart grinned. "And Sandemans are even worse than most that way. They don't even like to strip for a medical exam—which they hate in the first place. I'd embarrass him every bit as much as you would. I was worried about wasting days; we can spare a few minutes."
"I do not understand, but I would not wish to offend him. We do want his assistance."
Medart chuckled. "Don't worry, you'll get it. Just look at Gaelan's memories if you think there's any chance of a Sandeman warrior passing up any kind of honorable combat."
Corina did, and found herself amused at her doubt. "I see. But he should still have the opportunity to refuse, with the odds so greatly against the assault team."