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“I’m a kickboxer. So yeah.”

“Kicking. How very archaic.”

“Well, what do you use yours for?”

Daa’sten, like all Vraxians, had three phalanges at the front of his foot and a fourth at the back. They all contained fearsome-looking retractable claws. The dressmaker shrugged.

“Me? Nothing. But Vraxians engaged in combat can use them to disembowel their enemies.”

“Butshaa’baaradoesn’t include a fight to the death. Um, does it?”

“Not technically.” He pursed his lips. “But accidents do happen. The contest for the previous Zhaal many years ago resulted in two fatalities. Not intentionally, of course.”

“Of course.”Great.“Look, I’ll just wear my combat boots. It’s fine.”

The Vraxian sniffed.

“It is not fine. I have a reputation to uphold. And I think I can design battle garments that will make up for your disadvantages.”

“Isn’t that against the rules?”

“No. The rules permit a contestant with a physical disability the use of technology to give her an equal chance.”

“But I don’t have a disability.”

“You’re a human. Where do I begin?”

“That’s just rude.”

“Can you gut your opponent with your bare feet? Does your skin repel sharp objects? Can you change color to blend in with your background? No. But do not worry. I have some ideas. And in the meantime, I will fetch some clothing to tide you over.”

“Really? Clothes that will actually fit me?”

“Of course. Vraxians aren’t born tall.”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“You’re going to make me wear children’s clothes, aren’t you?”

“It is the simplest solution. Our adolescent hatchlings are about your size.”

“So not embarrassing at all, then.”

“It’ll do as a temporary fix.” He gazed at her prison outfit disdainfully. “And then we can burn your current ensemble.”

When he left, Kara took advantage of the filled bath to slough off the dust and stress of the last few hours. It had been a while since she’d submerged herself to the chin. The last time had been in the river on Minerva-6.

By the time she emerged, her fingers and toes were wrinkled and her skin was more pink than brown. She searched for a way to get rid of the bathwater but there didn’t seem to be a plug.

“Um, Vee, empty the bath,” she tried hesitantly.

“Complying.”

The water magically gurgled away.

“That is so effing cool.”

There was a robe on the door. She wrapped it round herself and curled up on the bed. Alone for the first time in days, she suddenly felt very far from home. She wondered if Vahn would check in on her. But the hours passed and he didn’t come.