Alexa stares at Vasilia, a knot forming in her gut and the breath catching in her throat.

"What happened?" she does not say. It is there, poised on the tip of her tongue, but it is fighting with all the other things trying to get out: I am so sorry, I should have been there, You should not have had to face whatever did this to you alone, This is my fault, If I had not disobeyed I would have been there to help you, I am [i]so sorry,[/i] and on and on forever.

And the look on the poor sheep's face, he knows it. She will need to do something special for them both to make up for today. Hera and Zeus, what must be going through his mind right now? 

Hades, she's waiting. Alexa forces a swallow, before offering a gentle "Many thanks," to Galnius. They have done more than their fair share.

Her leg twinges with every step, but she is not allowed to show pain. She must be strong and graceful, no matter how her ankle screams for bronze to fill the hole. Just long enough to cross the room. Five seconds, or maybe a millenium, that is all.

Her parade rest is perfect, because of course it must be, no matter how she wants to scream when she meets the captain's Hades-cursed vision. "Jas'o is with Redana," she reports, "and I must advise against confronting him in this moment. Athena has ordained his triumph, and he is"--do not look at the new holes in her stone, please--"an expert shot. Instead, Hera has commanded that we find and coerce a minor bureaucrat to move this titan from its space. It is a good tactical decision, if for no other reason than to remove the Armada from the equation." 

She pauses, and follows up with, "What would you have me do, Captain?"