Damn, that's right, there was some kind of security force on board. When was the last time he'd had to deal with that? Soysauce's insisting wasn't enough to dissuade him, of course; he could deal with whatever rules he'd broken later, once Jack was dead at his feet.

As he steadied his arm against the recoil to re-aim and fire again, though, a sharp pain tore through his hand. "Shit," he growled, and the revolver clattered to the floor, then dissolved in a burst of blue pixellated light as it deconstructed.

Still, an injury like that wasn't going to hold him back, nor was the lack of a gun. Jack was now apparently weaponless as well, and the confusion was an opportunity. He crouched and drew his sword from its sheath, and lunged forward in an attempt to run Jack through.