He had every right to be worried about her doing something stupid. The last time she'd been in a place like this, she'd ended up shooting a couple of Loyalists execution style all on her lonesome. That'd been a helluva mess to clean up. And there were plenty of English on board the ship.
<"You try and you'll likely kill me with some crazed shard of wood or a boot to my spine because I'm not moving,"> and very likely that would stave him off for awhile. <"I can't do this shit, Dian Cécht. I can't. I can't I can't I can't. I'm sick of all of this ship. I'm sick of how the nightmares just keep getting worse and worse,"> well that was something at least. She had never, ever acknowledged the nightmares verbally.