Words were long past their useful stage, as the Pirate Captainess looked once more at the ruined twisted metal. He was a strong one, perhaps greater in strength than those she traveled with. Yet that alone would not deter the demeanering woman and her scatching remarks.
What did, however, was the actions that man took after them. It was nothing short of remarkable, unexpected, and probably the worst thing he could have done in the situation. In truth, nothing would have been better, and further still, this was probably the only action he could have taken. Cutting the head off the proverbial snake with a physical onslaught.
In short, the man whose name she was still unfamiliar with saw fit to assault her person with a vicious running clothesline, not altogether different than the one made famous by Earth-2365's John Bradshaw Layfield's 'Clothesline from Hell', a tidbit she had picked up from a T'Lan Imass of her world.
Fanatic wrestling fans, even figured out a way to watch Live broadcasts from other multiverses.
In either event, she needed to survive if her own plans would come to fruition. For that, she needed to act. Almost as fast as the man moved, she did as well; pulling free her pistol, and, as cowboys would say 'shooting from the hip', she released all the steps she had cycled through in an unaimed blast, aimed somewhere in the general direction of her opponent's torso.
She hadn't proper time to aim, nor had she proper time to move to avoid the attack completely, so her response was the best option. In all likelihood, if the attack didn't kill him, it would slow him down enough to allow her to set up something physical for defense.
Inwardly, she scoffed. Defense. Pathetic. Reminded her too much of Zeal and the 'True Counter' abilities he possessed. She would have the Vanguard.