"There'll be nerve damage, probably. Regeneration should take care of most of it, but you might need transplants. You were lucky. First, that whatever nipped you barely broke the skin. Second, that the skipper was there to help. And third, that you had the sense to block the spread of the toxin by gee forces."
"Yeah. Remind me to thank Moya—immediately after I write him up for leaving his station."
The medic looked pleased.
"Well, now, the way I got it—and I believe the recorder will bear me out—is that you requested a witness. You left it up to the skipper to make the selection."
He cleared his throat.
"And, by the way, Moya said he'd look in on you after a bit. The thing to do now is rest."
I sat up again.
"Where're my clothes?"
The kid commenced noises of disapproval.
"Damnation! I'm not going anywhere. I just want to look over that pant's leg."