Kita'thalla

Pushing up with her left arm, she had managed to sit up and reach his left shoulder. The synthetic spider silk armor he wore was designed to stop bullets and even dampen the blast of energy weapons, but offered almost no protection against the inch long claws that had extended from each fingertip. Dropping the pair of scissors with a gasp, he tried to pry her iron grip from his shoulder, to no luck. His right hand fumbled along the ground, and finally found the syringe he'd grabbed earlier. Her grip tightened, digging the claws in even further as she attempted to pull him down. Trying to ignore the searing pain in his shoulder, he jammed the syringe into her thigh, delivering the entire dose.

The syringe contained a three drug concoction. The first part was simply a very powerful painkiller, a version of enhanced morphine minus the addictive quantities. The second component of the mix was a nerve suppressant, actually similar to chemical weapons used in the 20th century, although a lot more controlled. It only targeted skeletal muscles, those under voluntary control of the victim while leaving vital organ musculature such as the diaphragm and cardiac muscles untouched, and it wore off after a few days. This was very useful for patients that refused to stay still, aggravating their injuries. If that wasn't enough, the third component was an extremely powerful sedative. The alien's eyes went wide at the sudden stab and just as she was trying to reach for his neck with her other arm, her eyes rolled back and she flopped down unconscious.

He sat there for a moment, staring at her before realizing that his left shoulder was soaked with blood. "Stupid..."he thought as he took off his armor and started to bind the wounds left by her claws. There were times before when he'd had to treat soldiers who were either drunk or just not cooperative, but this really took the cake. He mentally berated himself for dropping his guard like that. Just because her leg was injured did not give any reason that she wouldn't try to resist. She was an enemy combatant! Most people he knew would have taken the shot, or just left her. What was his problem?

The eyes. He stopped, and allowed himself a small chuckle. He'd answered his own rhetorical question. He was starting to lose it. But really, looking down the barrel of the pistol, something in those eyes made him unable to shoot. Along with the defiance, there had been another emotion...sadness, regret. For all her bravado, he could tell she really hadn't wanted to die. With his shoulder treated, he turned back to the sedated alien. Removing the empty syringe, he set back to the task of setting the bones in her leg.