The fair lady was laid down in the small cabin of your spacecraft, unconscious, her golden hair fanning out over the sterile surface of the cot.

You had intervened in her punishment after she lost her duel, stepping in front of the victor's plasma blade and carrying her back to your ship as she collapsed.

As the hum of the ship’s engines filled the quiet, her eyes fluttered open. She blinked at you, then propped herself up on one elbow.

“You…” she growled, her voice laced with scorn, even in her weakened state.