Ray was caught off guard when the burly lieutenant bolted across the deck to battle with Nolan. The man was followed by three of his cronies, which Ray managed to cut off from joining the now grappling pair. His saber sliced one as soon as he landed on the deck, but the other two, who were definitely more skilled at swordplay than the regular crew, soon had Ray on the defensive.
"Ray, requesting backup!" Nolan cried in the midst of wrestling with the brute.
"I'm a little busy, Nolan." Ray grunted as one of them managed to slip a fist under his defenses and into his gut. Ray responded in kind by drawing one of his pistols and leveling it at his abuser. His enemy flinched as he pulled the trigger. A quiet *klak* of hammer on metal was all that could be heard. "Damned wet powder," Ray mumbled as he quickly flipped the gun around and pistol-whipped his intended target, exploiting his open defenses while he still could. His other adversary drew his pistol and fired at Ray, winging him in his gun arm. Ray responded by slicing his face open with a deft twirl of the saber.
He looked back at Nolan and saw him kneeling on the deck before the brute's rifle. Eyes wide and acting on instinct, Ray drew his other pistol and leveled it in the lieutenant's direction, hoping in the split second before firing that his bleeding arm would stay steady, that the powder in this gun was dry and that his dueling experience would let his shot hit his mark.