Ignore his baiting and try to figure out the environmental controls on her own.

Kira's fingers flew across the controls, trying to silence the warning indicators that were beginning to multiply. Was it getting warmer? The air felt thicker somehow, almost humid. "I've seen what happens to your 'clients.'"

"The settings really are about to shift into an unpleasant cycle," he said, his tone maddeningly reasonable. "Third panel from the left, the amber control cluster. Unless you enjoy headaches?"

She hated that he was probably right - the pressure behind her eyes was already building. With sharp, angry movements, she jabbed at the indicated controls. The warnings faded, and the air began to feel less oppressive. But now she'd had to accept his help, had to acknowledge his expertise, and that burned almost as much as the bite wound in her side.

"That's better, isn't it?" He asked softly. She didn't answer, but they both knew it was. After another ten minutes of trying to figure out how she could have solved it herself, Kira gave up out of sheer frustration, rose, and headed to the small workout room, determined to work out her feelings on the heavy bag.

She'd only thrown a half-dozen punches when the bite mark on her side started to throb in earnest. By the tenth punch, the pain was viciously sharp, and Kira stopped, breathing heavily and clutching her ribs.