I’ll start:
Bruce Danner, roistering spaceway pilot to the stars, piloted his CZX-750 to the spacedock on Altair Six. Sitting in the co-pilots’ chair was his loyal cyborg ANDY and in the back was a load of highly valuable quantum dust for processing and export.
“Turning on final approach,” murmured ANDY. “Boss, do you think we’ll be able to pay off our space repairs when we turn over this load?”
Danner let out a curt laugh, masculine and warm, and stroked the golden hairs of his well-trimmed beard. “I don’t think we could pay off our space repairs with all the quantum dust in space!”
There was a clanging of tools from the back, and First Officer Mary Sue emerged. Mary Sue was a genius who ANDY had found orphaned on a planet with her parents killed by the evil Zlorg and that he had raised as a spacedog. Her preternatural ability to make the ship go on literally qtips and nail polish had become legendary.
She leaned over Bruce’s seat, and the burly pilot manfully avoided peering into her shirt. Mary was ten years his junior, far too young for Bruce to consider sleeping with–even though he’d imagined it many many times.
“So this is Altair Six,” she said. “Ain’t much to look at.”