Of course she fights. Jasper has her doubts about the necessity of this fighting (it would, she feels, surely be simpler to destroy the planet's inhabitants from space if the Cetagandans wanted to use the planet for something), but she knows how to do as she's told, and in her current state -- displaced, uncomfortably fleshy, and definitively a failure -- she doesn't have much leverage to not do as she's told. Where this stranger comes from matters extremely little to her. Her gun is pointed squarely at their head, her huge orange finger poised on the trigger, as she demands the answer that does matter:
"What side are you on?"
recon
Jasper never much minded snow before, but that was when she could wrestle monsters in a low cut sleeveless jumpsuit without actually getting cold. Now? She's definitely sick of it. It doesn't help that she has to breathe now -- her nose is still a gem, but it's a cold and lifeless one, and while in theory she's glad it's still in place... in practice it means she has two less holes to breathe out of, and the one she does have is very uncomfortable with the chilly air.
"This is ridiculous," she mutters, far less gung-ho about this than she was at the outset of this mission. "What in the stars do they want this worthless planet for anyway?"
cetagandan base
Everything about having a meat body is new to Jasper, and that includes coming down with a cold. The heavy-headedness, the cold sweat, the sore throat, how feeble her whole body feels... She winces as a cold spell shivers over her, and in her distraction the top of her head bumps into the top of a doorframe.
"This useless human body... is dying," she rasps in tones of frustrated dismay.
Jasper | Steven Universe
Of course she fights. Jasper has her doubts about the necessity of this fighting (it would, she feels, surely be simpler to destroy the planet's inhabitants from space if the Cetagandans wanted to use the planet for something), but she knows how to do as she's told, and in her current state -- displaced, uncomfortably fleshy, and definitively a failure -- she doesn't have much leverage to not do as she's told. Where this stranger comes from matters extremely little to her. Her gun is pointed squarely at their head, her huge orange finger poised on the trigger, as she demands the answer that does matter:
"What side are you on?"
recon
Jasper never much minded snow before, but that was when she could wrestle monsters in a low cut sleeveless jumpsuit without actually getting cold. Now? She's definitely sick of it. It doesn't help that she has to breathe now -- her nose is still a gem, but it's a cold and lifeless one, and while in theory she's glad it's still in place... in practice it means she has two less holes to breathe out of, and the one she does have is very uncomfortable with the chilly air.
"This is ridiculous," she mutters, far less gung-ho about this than she was at the outset of this mission. "What in the stars do they want this worthless planet for anyway?"
cetagandan base
Everything about having a meat body is new to Jasper, and that includes coming down with a cold. The heavy-headedness, the cold sweat, the sore throat, how feeble her whole body feels... She winces as a cold spell shivers over her, and in her distraction the top of her head bumps into the top of a doorframe.
"This useless human body... is dying," she rasps in tones of frustrated dismay.