Joy, they had the most enthusiastic soldier she'd ever had the misfortune of having to deal with. That was going to do bad things for her peace of mind in the long term; who wanted to deal with noisy military types? At least her uniform was to be respected: clean and well-maintained, which indicated a soldier who was likely to treat her hardware well. That, in the end, was all that Honoria really desired from guardsmen: that they don't damage their stuff and leave her to do more interesting work than basic weapon repair.

With their environment as... bereft of useful tools as it was, there seemed to be few options available for getting off this island. The trees, of course, presented the first and most straightforward option: build something that floated. A ship was out of the question without some actual woodworking tools, but she had a chainaxe, and the bonesaw on the medicae mechadendrite could be repurposed for evening things out.. a raft, if something could be used as a binding, or even several.

Without explaining to anyone else what she was doing, the tall tech-priest headed to one of the trees collapsed by their arrival, and the harsh roar of the chain-axe rent the air as she set to getting usable logs out of the thing. No time like the present, after all.