And so there they are, victorious, pile of dead monkeys between them. (Thrilling.) Integra, still on her horse, gives Jo an unreadable look; maybe searching, maybe appraising. She recognizes her at once, not from some other world, but by simple virtue of the fact that Dean attended her broadcast from the arrival room. While she doesn't use the cohort network overmuch in general, she makes a habit of taking the time to scan it periodically during times of crisis, in the interests of communication.

She scans for other signs or sounds of movement - irritable, singed and blood-covered, but still put together, Integra takes her cue from her horse and figures it's all clear in this moment. "What gauge does that take?" ... Someone else might have asked Jo if she was okay.