The screens all cleared, replaced with their ordinary medical readouts. Lucky levitated the gun gently back onto the cot between them, pointed at the wall. “You want to save people. Well, I’ve got a ship full of people who need saving. Forerunner’s plans all seem great to me, but what the hell do I know about that? I got practically my whole fucking crew killed when we took out Celestia. I don’t want to do that again.” She stuck out a hoof towards Olivia. “Come on, Major. I’m not asking you to pull the trigger again if you really don’t want to. Just help me make sense of this. If you don’t, I’ll only have Forerunner’s ideas to go on. He’s great, but he’s also an inhuman intelligence who fundamentally fails to understand us. He threw generations of us into the grinder because he thought that would lead him to a swifter victory. He’d have done that for a thousand more if he had to.” She leaned in close, voice getting desperate. “Most of him was in Othar. 92%, to be precise. Maybe 8% of him is still worth 200% of us, but I’m not so sure. It’ll take him a long time to heal. I need someone intact. Someone who’s fought wars like this before.”