[ Rex takes the opportunity he's given and whips his armoured forearm into her temple hard enough to make her see stars before he begins to try to twist her around and yank one arm behind her back, tugging on it hard enough to hurt, to properly dislocate it if he does it right. He needs to render her at least a little less equipped to stab him to death if he's going to be able to drag her back to the ship, and this is the best way he can think to do it. If this doesn't do it... little gods, the idea of having to break any bones properly is an unavoidably awful one, but even underneath the current set of circumstances, Rex can be pragmatic. She'll heal. He won't. If he's got to break her legs to drag her back wailing like a wild thing, then that's just what he's going to have to do.

There are only two other ways that this will end: with Rex dead, or with the both of them captured and the Imps using Andy as their own weapon. She'd rather die, and he knows it. He twists a little harder, knee jamming into the small of her back. ]

I can make this hurt, Andy, you know I can. If you stay down, I won't have to do the indignity of tying you up and dragging you back myself.

[ Tying her up - now there's a thought. He'd just need to sort out how. ]