Taking a ship by storm was messy work, Pirra thought, looking up at the sterile ceiling of the combat medical room. Even before the action started.

"The second injection is ready whenever you are, Lieutenant Commander," Y told her.

"Go ahead," she said, glancing to her right arm.

The apparatus there was a triple needle, of a type she always hated to see.

"Pirra, are you sure you're ready for the next shot?" Alexander asked worriedly.

She glanced at him, forcing a smile. "I'm used to this."

"No one gets used to this," he said, the worry etching deep furrows in his face.

"Pre-Trauma gel is standard for this kind of job," she said. Y struck at that moment, the three needles - so thin that they were nearly invisible, stabbing into her arm. Normally one wouldn't feel them, but the three liquids coming through them hurt like the sting of a huaz.

She couldn't help but glance over, seeing that nearly half of the syringes had gone into her. The chemicals had a short lifetime, just eight hours or so, so they couldn't be pre-mixed. But once inside the body, they'd help one survive even the most traumatic of injuries.

She'd seen Response Officers who had lost over fifty percent of their blood and body mass to injuries survive if they had PTG in their systems.

The pain grew and she forced herself not to yell out.

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Alexander knew her well enough to see through her bravery.

"We need to wait longer for the third one," he insisted. There were three rounds of injections, and the last was the worst.

"No, I'm fine," she insisted, her voice strained.

"I concur with your husband, Lieutenant Commander. It is best to wait at least two minutes between injections," Y said.

"Fine," she said. She just wanted it over with.

"I wasn't sure whether to be happy or terrified that they didn't give you these before the battle against the Hev," Alexander said.

"We didn't know how long we'd be fighting their boarding parties," she said. "It wouldn't do if we were still fighting eight hours later and we all started to get severely ill. This time we're the boarders and we'll have it done within two hours, tops."

"I know it could save your life, but you've had bad reactions before to this stuff-"

"Just when I was younger," Pirra insisted, annoyed but knowing he was truly just being caring. "I've built up a tolerance."

Y made the sound of a human clicking his tongue. "That is not how it works, Lieutenant Commander, you know that."

"I'm going to stick with my comforting lie," she told him.

"Oh, delusions, yes, I understand that is a common coping mechanism among organic beings," Y replied. He turned away to start preparing the next injection.

Pirra looked to Alexander. "The pain is nothing," she told him. "It'll be after this is over that you can feel worried." She forced a laugh.

"I hate seeing you sick afterward even more," he said glumly.

"I'll feel like shit, but at least I'll be alive," she said with a shrug. Her arm burned with the movement.

At least, she probably would be alive. Enough bodily harm, or if her major organs were destroyed and not even PTG would save her.

"The other squads are all reacting well to their own injections," Y informed her.

"Are you giving any to that Apollonia girl?" she asked.

"'Apollonia girl'?" Y noted. "She is Apollonia Nor, or Ms. Nor, Lieutenant Commander."

"I'm informal when I'm getting tortured," Pirra replied, shrugging again and regretting it.

"I don't know why the Captain is even sending a civilian," Alexander said, shaking his head.

"Her presence will provide you protection against things of a tenkionic nature," Y replied. "Though she will have to depend upon others for her own safety. I fear her body would reject the PTG. It is too dangerous to attempt giving it to her."

"We'll keep her safe," Pirra promised.

But her insides squirmed. Not because of Apollonia Nor, but the mention of tenkionic forces made her think again about just what it was they were going into.

About the Star Hunter and his relic technology.

Did these pirates really have it? Intellectually, she doubted it, but in her gut she knew. They were going to be walking into something bad, something they could not possibly be prepared for.

Her chrono showed that it had been three minutes since the last injection.

"Give me the last shot," she said.

"Very well," Y said, turning around. The arm with the triple-injector moved closer.

"Don't worry, Alex," she said to him, keeping her eyes on his face and giving him a reassuring smile. "It's all going to be fine."