[Irene had found herself lying sprawled on her stomach. Her weapons were gone, as were, unfortunately, her grime-smeared clothes. At Donnie's comment, she looked over. Though rather exhausted, she still managed a tart retort.]

If we were dead, I doubt we'd care much.

[She tried to pull herself up, and hissed softly. She ached all over. Perhaps it was best to stay on the floor for a moment. After her experiences in port, modesty still mattered, but it was a distant concern.]