Alexa traces a shell's trajectory, and winces as it tears apart a small orchard.

How can they stand to be so callous in the presence of peace? Here stands a village, untouched since time immemmorial, an atoll of prosperity. Even from here, it's like the village is formed entirely of love and contentment, and there's part of her that wonders whether they'd have room for one more. No need to fight, no need to worry. Just an isolated town, tucked away from the war, unburdened by princesses or humans or imperium.

At least, until she came and ruined everything.

She turns decisively, and kneels before the captain. "If it please thee, send me. They have yet to form phalanxes. If allowed to entrench, it becomes infinitely more difficult to remove them."

Simple mathematics. Prevent the phalanx from forming, and minimize the damage they can do. This is a place of peace, and she'll be damned if she lets that change.