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“What’s the matter, couldn’t lay your paws on any benzodiazapene?”
    I didn’t let her have enough air to speak. Not that I cared about what she had to say. I backed her into a plaspanel wall and held her there.
    Time to use some Hsktskt tactics. To keep the lizards monitoring us from interfering, I pulled off my headgear, then hers.
    “Now you
listen
.” I leaned in, felt something warm run down my sleeve. Blood from the new wound. As if I needed more problems. “I’vehad enough of this.
Enough
. If I signal that big monster in charge, he’ll put you on a tray and pass you around. Want to end up an appetizer?”
    Gasping, her tail thrashing frantically against the panel, the nurse shook her head.
    “Then we’re going to make a deal. You don’t try to kill me, and I won’t feed you to them. Agreed?”
    She gave a weak nod. I let go, and she dropped to the deck, choking and coughing as fresh air filled her cheek pouches.
    I gave her a few moments, using the time to check out my brand. The tussle had cracked the burns open, and they were bleeding, too. I snatched a couple of sterile dressing packs, then nudged her with my foot. “Get up.”
    Unsteadily she pushed herself off the deck, then staggered as I grabbed her by the arm.
    “Come on.”
    I hauled her over to the scrub unit, and stuck the dressing packs in her paws. I couldn’t help grumbling as I pulled the probe from the shallow wound in my good arm and tore the sleeve away. That hurt.
    Her beady eyes bulged again. “That, why are you doing?”
    “
I’m
not doing anything.” I held out my arm. “Clean it.”
    “Did you say, what?”
    “You heard me.
You
stabbed me.
You
clean it up.” When she started to back away, I caught her tunic with my good hand. “I can always ask TssVar to do it.”
    That got me an intense look of dislike, but she retrieved what she needed and began treating the stab wound.
    Maybe I should find out who wanted me dead. “What’s your name?”
    She sprayed a generous amount of topical antiseptic over the small gash, which made me wince. “Zella Dchêm-os.”
    While she worked on me, I kept an eye on Shropana’s vitals. There were a few fluctuations, but on the whole the levels kept improving. Zella followed my gaze and muttered something under her breath as she wound the sterile dressing over the brand.
    “What are you mumbling about?” I asked her.
    “Your time, you’re wasting,” the nurse said. Her face resumed its usual sullen caste. “On the Colonel, that Hsktskt butcher will finish the job. A chance, as soon as he gets.”
    It took me a minute to figure out her backward syntax. “Oh, so
that’s
why the OverLord allowed me to perform surgery on Shropana,” I said, in a the-light-dawns tone. “To save his life so he could kill him later.” Zella jerked and secured the ends of the dressing a little too tightly around my arm. “Now, be nice—”
    “SsurreVa?” TssVar had re-entered the surgical suite, and stood looking from me to the nurse. His lower eyelids dropped in an expression I’d guess to be in the highly upset range. “You harmed the Designate.”
    I decided not even Zella deserved that wretched isolation cell—if she even made it that far in one piece. Surreptitiously I shoved her headgear into her hands and slipped mine over my head. “No harm done, OverLord. Just an accident. See?” I held up the arm for his inspection, and flexed it for good measure. “Works fine.”
    The Hsktskt ignored me. “Centurons! Attend me!”
    Two of TssVar’s guards burst into the room an instant later and trained their weapons on the League nurse. Time to do some fast talking, or Nurse Dchêm-os was going to end up in more pieces than even
I
could sew back together.
    “I never even saw the dermal probe until it was sticking out of my arm,” I said, and patted my wounded limb. “My nurse kindly agreed to dress it for me.”
    The OverLord released a slow, suspicious hiss, then cracked a limb at the