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Looking at how heavy the sphere appears, Gillon attempts to stand up.
"I'll stay. I'm too heavy; it's the right thing to do. I probably really am..."
"Sit down!" Beata unexpectedly barked sharply.
Gillon jumped. His partner continued.
"Don't even think about it. Don't even think about it, damn it. I'm not going to lose you. I won't let you sacrifice yourself."
"But..."
"No 'buts,' I said! Want arguments? Here are some arguments. You're the strongest of us. You can take hits that would kill anyone else here. And if something goes wrong and we end up somewhere unknown? We've already left all our weapons, all our armor, almost all our medicine! We *need* someone as strong as you so we have a chance to survive. Her Majesty, over there," she nodded towards the queen, who was blinking in confusion, "who else would we rely on? Her people are sacrificing themselves for us. Now she's our responsibility. And you're her best chance. So, damn it, sit your beautiful butt back down and don't get up until I tell you!"
Gillon sat down, covering his face with his hands. Beata smiled sheepishly at the queen.
"Khorosho! Zdravstvuite! Spasibo! Pirozhki!" she demonstrated her deep knowledge of Zimian, trying to sound encouraging.