Sometime during the night, Maggie discovered that second cot wouldn’t be needed. She awoke to find Diggs curled up next to her, softly snoring, catching her by surprise. What she wanted to do was tell him to go back to his own bed...but Blye’s warning was still echoing in her brain. With a sigh, she adjusted the blanket to keep them both warm, dreading how her back would howl in protest come the dawn.

Sure as shit, she was stiff as a board in the morning. It took her several long agonizing minutes to work out the kinks, stretching and massaging the muscles as best she could before she dared take her first step. Diggs watched her efforts with interest, saying nothing until she took his hand and led him out of the supply room.

“Reckon you’re hungry,” she told him, as they walked through the ward, keeping a firm grip in case any Azha were about. “I know I am.” She spotted a handful of the aliens gathered near their cots, eating that brown gunk, but she interposed her body between them and Diggs and hurried past, looking for the Knights.

The sound of clanking metal drew her out back, where she and Blye had had their little tête-à-tête. They found the Sixièmes sparring one another with long poles, while the medic watched them with a practiced eye, leaning on a staff of her own. They all wore light padding to cover their more vulnerable spots, with helmets to protect their heads. “Keep that elbow up, Prash,” she called out, as Joona swept in low with a vicious-looking slash. Backpedaling just in time he responded with a straight jab to his opponent's torso, which Grec could not parry. He grunted as the blow struck home, prompting her to give out a whistle, bringing them to a halt as she stepped in.

“You overextended yourself,” she told Joona, “that’s why Prash could get past your guard.” She took a stance, mimicking his earlier move. “See? You’re trying for the knockout blow...when you should focus on targets of opportunity. Wait for him to drop his guard and be prepared to take advantage of it.”

“Yes, Troisième,” he nodded, as Blye looked over at the newcomers.

“We’re just finishing up. Give us a few minutes, and we’ll prepare a meal for you,” she told them.

Maggie gave her a bemused look. “You’re fighting with sticks?”

“In fact, the quarterstaff has a long and rich history,” the medic replied, “and in the right hands, can be even deadlier than a sword. And...you can take it places where the law prevents the use of more conventional weapons.” Turning back to the orderlies, she checked her headgear. “Gentlemen, come at me,” she ordered, taking a defensive stance.

The pair wasted no time, approaching her from either side. Blye stood motionless, letting them close the distance, and Maggie was certain she’d waited too long, when with a sudden blur of motion she went into action, spinning her staff about like a baton in a two-hand hold. In the blink of an eye, she’d knocked them both to the ground, giving her weapon one last twirl before taking her stance once more, one arm wrapped around the staff while she held the other high, in a warding gesture. The two men groaned as they rose to their feet, while she gave them both a formal bow. “Sword practice this afternoon. Well done, both of you.”

Maggie caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eye, as she spotted Diggs. He’d found a discarded slat from somewhere and was gleefully waving it about, imitating the movements he’d just observed.

“I can teach you if you’d like,” Blye told him, as she approached the pair. “It takes a lot of practice though.”

His eyes widened before he turned to Maggie, seeking her approval. “If you want to,” she shrugged. He grinned, nodding with excitement, as Blye smiled down at him.

“This afternoon, I’ll show you some moves,” she promised. “Why don’t you go with Prash and Joona and get something to eat. I need to speak with Maggie for a moment.”

Again, he looked to her for her blessing. “Go on,” she nodded, “I’ll be there soon.”

Hunger must have overcome his fear of separation, as he scampered off with the orderlies, his new staff still clutched in his hand.

“You just know he’s gonna smack something with that,” Maggie sighed, before turning her attention to the Chevalier. “What did you wanna talk about?”

Blye looked uncomfortable. “I wish to apologize for my behavior yesterday,” she said, as her tongue threatened to tie itself up in knots. “I was out of line, and I humbly beg your pardon.”

The Tinker’s jaw dropped as she practically genuflected before her. “What the fuck?” she said in confusion. “Yesterday you were threatenin’ to rip my lungs out, and now you’re kissing my ass? What the hell’s going on?”

The medic bowed her head. “My words were intemperate, and I ask for your forgiveness...My Lady.”

Her jaw clenched hard as the final credit dropped. “God damn it all to hell,” she snarled, pointing an accusing finger. “You ran my DNA!”

“It’s...standard procedure,” she stammered. “I had no idea you were…”

“...Stop. Right there,” Maggie hissed. “Whatever it is you think you know about me...forget it. Keep it to yourself. I’m the same person I was yesterday...and that’s how I want to be treated. Understand?”

“...but...,” she began, only to have Maggie cut her off at the knees.

“No buts,” she growled. “You want to ‘honor’ me?” she asked, making finger quotes. “Then do as I say. I hate all that goddamn bowing and scraping, and I won’t have it. You hear me?”

“Yes...of course,” Blye mumbled, “It’s just...I’ve never actually met…”

“You still haven’t,” she snapped, turning and stomping back towards the hospital, her good mood now spoiled. She barely noticed the food she wolfed down, and Diggs could tell something was wrong. He shrunk away from her as if he were afraid she’d lash out at him and seeing him cringe like a whipped cur damn near broke her heart.

“Come here,” she sighed, as he slunk over to her. Maggie tousled his hair and gave him a smile, wrapping a protective arm around his skinny frame as they ate their breakfast. Joona cleared the dishes when they finished, as she rose to her feet.

“I still got a pile of gear to fix,” she announced, as Diggs went with her. Blye stood as well, but one look from the Tinker and she plopped right back down. She saw the Sixièmes share a perplexed look, but that was none of her concern. At least their boss hadn’t been talking out of school.

She shielded Diggs once again from the Azha on the return trip, but he knew they were there, the way he clutched his newfound toy. If she didn’t keep a close eye on him he was likely to use it on one of the skinny aliens, and considering that’s how he got into trouble the first time...she had her work cut out for her.

Back in the supply room, she sat him down. “This equipment I’m mending, you need to leave it alone,” she explained. “You could break something, or get hurt, and I don’t want that to happen. You understand?” Diggs nodded solemnly, though as he looked at her toolkit and the pile of gear, she knew eventually curiosity would get the better of him.

Best to nip that in the bud right now. The question was how?

Her eyes lit upon the box of leftovers she’d set to the side...odds and ends she was debating whether or not to salvage. Digging through the junk she decided there wasn’t anything too dangerous, so she carried it over away from where she was working. “Here, you can play with this stuff,” she told him, dumping out the contents. Diggs grinned as he scampered over to the pile, going through the bits and pieces with delight. “Just don’t swallow nothin’, okay?” Maggie admonished, as she got back to work.

Most of the problems she’d found were electronic or in the software, which took time to track down. Occasionally she’d glance over at the kid, banging away with the spare parts she’d given him, as entertained as she could hope for. One particular diagnostic was proving more complicated than she’d foreseen, requiring her full attention, when she realized it had been a while since Diggs had made much noise...never a good sign.

Glancing over at his corner she sighed in relief. He was still playing with the parts she’d given him...but as she looked closer, she realized he’d taken it one step further. Mixed in with the junk had been a handful of small gears, taken from this and that. Diggs had puzzled out how they worked together and using the other odds and ends had actually constructed a wobbly gear reduction train. His eyes were wide with fascination, hypnotized as the teeth meshed while he spun the end cog to make the others rotate in sequence.

Maggie sat back on her haunches, fascinated by the display. He’d worked it out all on his own, with no input from her...in fact, none of the repairs she’d done that morning had been mechanical. That took aptitude, a natural ability, and she had to grin as Diggs looked up at her, proud of his efforts.

“Not bad, kid,” she smiled, earning a beam as he displayed his project to her. “That’s pretty good.”

They were still sharing the moment when she heard a crash coming from the ward, followed by raised voices. Her hackles went up immediately.

“Stay here,” she cautioned him, stepping out of the room and following the sound...coming to a screeching halt as she spotted a band of Azha in the middle of the ward. And unlike the patients that had been lurking about since her arrival, these aliens all carried with them their cloak-like Xaak symbiotes. That made them official, and it was damn unlikely they were bringing good tidings.

“Bloody hell,” she whispered, hurrying out into the ward as Blye stood defiantly before the congregation, with Prash and Joona at her side, about to do something foolish.

“...I’ll take it from here,” she said in a rush, once again interposing herself between the rival groups. Facing the Azha, she made her expression as neutral as she could manage. “Greetings, honored beings,” she said with a bow, “how may we serve you?”

Their symbiotes ruffled and billowed about them as one alien...the leader, she was guessing...raised a skinny arm. “Terrans leave,” he buzzed, the actual words coming from a translation voder…not a very good one, by the sound of it.

“You said we had another week!” Blye protested, the fire in her eyes clear.

“Terrans leave,” he...it...repeated. “Leave now.”

Limited vocabulary, Maggie thought to herself, mentally downgrading the voder’s capabilities, though she supposed they ought to be grateful. Plenty of species out there that wouldn’t have bothered...why talk, when you can just start shooting?

“Honored beings,” she said, “it will take time to collect their supplies, and there is the question of finding a ship with which to leave Azhakom. If you give them just two days…”

“Ship waits,” it informed them, addressing one of the bigger concerns. “Terrans gather effects.”

“Now see here…” Blye snapped, her body tensing as she shifted her footing when Maggie realized what she was about to do.

Gripping her arm, the Tinker shook her head. “Don’t,” she warned, nodding towards the others behind the spokesman, “that’s what they’re hopin’ you do. You make a move against them...and you’ll be the one needin’ that breathing tube.”

That got her attention. She glanced at the orderlies and then nodded. “So what do you suggest?” she asked.

Maggie just shrugged. “Only one thing to do,” she sighed, looking back at the Azha throng.

“Start packing.”