The skin revealed underneath his shirt was already patched with scars, evidence of the hard life he'd lived and testament to his ability to survive. She couldn't help but respect it, and the idea of adding her mark to the patchwork was intoxicating. Her own body had only a few scars, and those well hidden, because it was more important for a woman's bodies to be desirable. Even the men who had hurt and used her hadn't thought it necessary to leave many scars. Of course, sometimes they were inevitable in battle. Rather than being insulted by the fact that Scotty thought she needed instructions, she merely nodded calmly. "I'll do it right," she promised, voice almost kind. She carefully modulated the depth of her cuts as she carved into his skin. "The Enterprise," she murmured a few minutes later. "It's perfect." Her fingers skimmed along the new wounds, lightly smearing the blood.