None of her crew moves until she has finished taking him in until she has taken all that he has to give before she turns back, lifts her hand to direct them forward. The words flowing quick and in Hindi. Directing them with an ease of familiarity that once she has given permission, they move forward to the crew that has stepped up to help them.

Which the one stiff nod she gives back to Miles follows along the same, as she sheaths her sword. Her other hand curling over her abdomen where the blood flows still. Her gaze on him still, but it hazes a little, the pain back, now the edge has worn off. The tight pain working her jaw tense as by slow steps, she limps towards him. "At your will, Admiral."