Once the cyborg was clear and the Pirate Captain shouted, Malkath fired off a shot from his rifle. The blue pulse-shot cut through the Ceramite of the power armour as if it had been paper, punching a neat hole through the torso of the Pirate Captain. The Captain staggered but didn't slow in his charge as his power sword flared with intensity as it drew near, and hearing his gun still whirring up for the next shot, Malkath knew he couldn't just stand and wait for a second one, he'd likely be minus a head.
He knew he couldn't compete with this guy for strength, and his sword was likely to cut his rifles in half. So, using his more nimble frame, Malkath jumped back against the wall behind him on his back legs and pushed himself off and at the gap between the hallway wall and the captain's left side. The wounded pirate swung his sword to try and cut the Kroot in two, but only managed to slice off the tips of some of his quills as he flew past with terrific speed.
"Stand still and fight me, alien scum!"
Honour was for those who were fighting on equal footing, Malkath thought, this was simply wise hunting when facing a predator who is naturally more powerful than yourself. Rolling into a crouched position, and his rifle cooled down again, Malkath took aim and fired a second shot at the angered and frustrated captain, this time punching a hole through his right knee, and consequently cutting the servos to the lower part of that leg entirely.
The Captain growled in pain and frustation as his right leg now refused to move and started to bleed out along with the wound in his chest, the adrenaline flowing through him from the previous fighting had so far numbed his pain and hadn't sent him into shock, but now his mobility was hampered. Still defiant, he tried to drag the now heavy leg as his left hand clutched at his chest wound and his right stayed on his sword, his foe still keeping his distance. In desperation, and with blood starting to leak from the corners of his mouth, the Captain flung his sword at Malkath who promptly dodged the flying power weapon with relative ease.
"You cowardly mercenaries! The lot of you! Too scared for your own lives to fight man to man, running for help and launching sneak attacks on my men before they can even get their guns. What kind of warriors are you!?"
Malkath stood himself up and waited for his Kroot rifle to recharge before aiming and intoning in his gravelly voice a few more choice phrases he'd picked up while learning Low Gothic:
"The ones who aren't dead, fuck-face."
The third shot he placed through the Captain's forehead, blowing out a fairly sizeable whole through the back of his skull as the massive and heavy frame of the former Pirate crashed to the ground, his blood pooling from the various wounds.
Malkath then busied himself with checking over his sliced quills and slinging his rifle before looking over at the cyborg who dove initially.