He holds up both hands in a defensive gesture, palms out, shaking his head. "I'm not saying you give up. But we've got to be smart. Assess the situation. We're up shit creek and they've got the paddle. Until we find a paddle of our own-" or can take it from Jorgmund, if they even have one, "-we've got nothing to gain by flying off the handle."

Armstrong folds his arms over his chest again and scowls. No, he doesn't like having to say this any more than Adora likes to hear it. "You're in a hostile world, under the influence of a hostile power. It's a nightmare, and if I could fix it for everyone I would, but I've got nothing right now. I'm not even at full strength here." And that'd been a surprise. "What could you do right now? Insist that they send you home? Threaten them? I tried that. Didn't work."