Illyana was just glad when Jono got the hell out of her sight. Was it too much to ask that she only had to deal with one mess at a time? Now she had a busted ship, wounded pride at having to ask for help with said ship and a belly full of rage because the person she had let herself be talked into not `porting into the heart of a star had touched her ship without even checking with her first. And a lot of that had happened in front of one of the few groups of people in the universe that hadn't tried to capture her and her ship on sight.
She frowned as Wicked headed off after Jono, not really sure what was going on there. Not that it mattered. One thing at a time.
It was nice of Chase to say that, but it was her fault. The ship was her responsibility, and she couldn't fix it properly, couldn't even get what she needed to fix it because she didn't know exactly what everything was. For the millionth time, she internally cursed S'ym for dying and leaving her. And then immediately felt like shit for having even thought it.
"What all's wrong?" she asked, arms folded defensively over her chest.