"I'm okay, love." Aliset's tone and timbre didn't change, continuing to move slowly as she gently lifted the bot off her faceplate, examining it in her hands and gently maneuvering the robotic creature to better look at it. "They're just trying to figure out what we are. Probably want a fight less than we do. So do me a favor and don't shoot. Just as likely you'd put a hole in me as you would a simple repair bot that outnumbers us a hundred to one right now. Please. Calm. Easy. I love you. I'm okay."
The medic's interface would confirm Aliset's assessment. Sure, the Mindy didn't quite fit right, and Senti anatomy wasn't particularly conducive to monitors. But still, her blood hormone levels showed remarkably low stress hormone counts, and a heartbeat the image of meditative tranquility at a soft and even fifty five beats per minute. There was no trace of the terror which allowed Aliset to fly combat missions as easily as breathing. From her voice and vital signs, Aliset was every bit as at home in this danger as Sacre was in an operating room.
She had kept the secondary channel open, knowing that if the machines were listening, these little drones wouldn't be much more than ears and eyes. The mind behind them would be deep within the world, analyzing her voice, her tone, finding the ancient music of the Shuristans, the static-song of the Senti from between the stars and depths of the void. With any luck, it would sing back, her own native tongue or trust that these Yamataians came in the same peace offered under the unyielding, reality twisting truth of some Senti deity of information, use their words to speak to them all. "None of mine wish to fight. Not on this sacred ground you lovelies build. It would hurt me so, your work as beautiful as you. No matter the cost to us, the cost to you would be so painful for me. Show me your pain. And we will help you heal, ancient friend."