Jas'o. 

The sound of his voice should not make shivers crawl down the granite of her spine, should not make her diamond-edged teeth grind like a millstone. He is a military commander, much like any other.  Hidebound, with Molech's masterpiece shoved so far up his ass that shit comes out in formation. Loyal to the promises made by his masters and, much like the master themselves, disloyal to those below him. 

But most commanders at least have the decency to [i]pretend[/i] they view you as more than expendable cogs. As Jas'o orders his troops into formation--predictably standard [i]Masteries of Battle[/i] approved, she notices--the disdain and frustration dripping off every word sends a curl through her lip that is… disgust? Revulsion? Disdain? Her eyes narrow in appraisal.

He was going to make her a decoration. 

She can feel Galnius's eyes bore a hole in her neck as she kneels, but the phalanx commander doesn't have to ask what she's doing. The offering to Athena is universal to any soldier worth their salt.

And it is always an offering. Generals offer grand, elaborate auguries before going to battle. Generals determine whether Athena will bless them with glory and grand victory. Soldiers care much more about "let me be alive at the end of the day."

Alexa might have even stopped there. It is a good want, a good ask. They are outnumbered, facing a fully-formed phalanx protecting a commander practiced with a Thunderbolt, and she is all too keenly aware of the sundered Aegis strapped to one arm. It is still in the process of rebuilding itself, but it probably will not be ready in time for this fight. 

But.…Well, let us be honest. She is [i]going[/i] to survive this fight. It is what she does. She is not worried about that. But the rest of them… She closes her eyes and nods. "She Who Fights In Front, we face today a foe wielding a spark of your father. It shall be yours, dedicated to you, an offering, if you you but protect those behind me."

Right. She dares to hope, but for now, she must put action to words.

"It is a poor commander who does not keep the loyalty of his men," she calls, injecting the perfect amount of jeer. "But even poorer a commander who is disloyal to his men, who would trade them away as if worn out and in need of replacement."

Then she steps out fully, leveling a spear at the king, and stands exposed, eyes locked with Jas'o's. Shoot her, if you dare. "She who stands before you is the creation direct of The Brighteyed and the Warsage. She knows your formations before you order them, for she had a hand in their creation. She stands in your way, and you dare not leave to seek your true target, for to turn your back is to invite destruction. Stand and face destruction, or yield and live. These men, and she whom you seek, are [i]mine.[/i] And you shall not have them."