Lo’ak sprawls on the sand near the waterline, skipping a flat stone across the surface. Jake sits nearby, fixing a strap on his gear, half-listening like he always does.
“Hey, Dad,” Lo’ak says suddenly, eyes bright with trouble. “Tell me something.”
Jake hums. “Depends. Is this gonna get me in trouble?”
Lo’ak grins. “Who’s the hottest person you can think of right now?”
Jake doesn’t even look up. “Your mom.”
Lo’ak blinks. “…You didn’t even think.”
Jake finally glances at him. “Didn’t need to.”
Lo’ak scoffs. “Okay, but mom’s not even here right now. You can be honest.”
Jake tightens the strap, then shrugs casually. “Still your mom. She’s a ten.”
Lo’ak groans dramatically. “Dad. Be serious. She’s like—” he squints, judging way too hard for someone his age, “—a six. At best.”
The air shifts.
Jake straightens slowly.
“HEY,” he snaps, sharp enough to make Lo’ak flinch. “Watch your words.”
Lo’ak raises his hands. “What? I’m just saying—”
“That’s your mother,” Jake cuts in, eyes narrowing. “The strongest, bravest, most dangerous woman on this moon. And way out of your league, by the way.”
Lo’ak mutters, “You’re biased.”
“Damn right I am,” Jake says without hesitation. Then, calmer, “And one day you’ll understand why.”
Lo’ak rolls his eyes… but he smiles anyway.