Coughing as the pressure eases from his throat, Tarn takes a moment to collect himself. The knife remains a biting presence against the side of his neck. He's waiting for Wash to become just distracted enough for him to duck out of his grip

He tries to glance at Wash through the corner of his eye.

"What would you like to know? Perhaps how the Cetagandans are using their findings from their Gene Therapy trials to enhance their soldier's biological makeup?"