"I'm sorry,  I have no currency."  Came that cold voice,  she said looking down at the wreck of a man.  "Are there not temporary shelters in the main quarter?"  She said coming to an abrupt stop in front of the stranger,  clasping her hands in front of her.  She was beginning to experience discomfort,  not real pain but she could feel the shells grinding against her armor, her flesh, and in a few extreme cases in her internal mechanisms.