Lorenzo followed the movement one of several pirates that pulled a blade and tossed it across the floor to stop before him. It was a simple, unadorned blade, not a vibro blade or other more creative option, it was just a plain piece of metal. The thought that they would pack something so archaic was strange to see. The blades on the floor were as diverse in design as the men and women standing watching him and the other three fresh blood.
“Don’t worry, I got this. Let me kill this dirt rat, and then we can all get back to business.”
The boisterous, and loud voice of the leader of the small trio bent forward and picked up the blade on offer to him. Witnessing the big man grab the blade turned his guts, so Lorenzo stepped on the edge of the blade before him. Dragging the blade with his poor foot to him, with a quick flick of his foot, the blade went spinning off into the air. Laughter billowed out of the pirate crew, seeing Lorenzo getting rid of the only weapon that he had access to that they knew of.
“Look at that Gizmo, the kid is afraid of hurting himself.”
“Nah, the guy just has a metal allergy.”
“Maybe he is doing this to win Lemon’s heart.”
The crew’s commentary and laughter had a nervous tone and quality to it. Unsure why that was, Lorenzo looked at each one of them and saw a tense set to their features as each crew member watched what was about to play out. A sharp gurgling cry drew all eyes from the one issuing the pained scream. The biggest of the drunks stood proudly, sheathing one blade in to the guts of one champion, while sheathing a new blade he had to have had on him in the throat of his other companion.
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The two men who were bleeding out all over the deck grabbed their respective wounds, gurgling despite themselves before blood loss or lack of coordination sent the two men tumbling out into the air. Laughing like a man possessed of good will after winning a large jackpot, the largest drunk spread his arms out, holding both blades as the entire crew watched in dead silence.
“Well, little lady, maybe you can warm my bunk up for me, so it is nice and comfy for when I finish with this last one.”
Lorenzo looked to the crew, who were all neutral faced, short of the redhead named Lemon. She had a look in her eyes that would have stripped the flesh off anyone she would focus that glare on. Plodding movement drew Lorenzo’s eyes back to the large drunk who came swiftly towards him with heavy steps. Each step looked like it allowed the wind to pull at the man, and it was clear if he was not careful, he would soon follow his friends.
Spreading his feet at shoulder width, Lorenzo braced himself for the drunk. His hand tentatively reached for his vibro blade, but he quickly thought better of it. Leaning back on his back foot so he could launch himself forward before the drunk could attack, he had a surprise that he was not expecting. Between the adrenaline and all the distractions, he had forgotten about his damaged ankle. Applying pressure on it caused his entire leg to collapse under him.
The drunk, having seen that he had an additional advantage, rushed forward with an evil grin plastered across his features. Drops of blood fell from both blades, but were whisked out into the wind before they could mar the metal decking. Lorenzo raised his arms and crossed them in an X before his face. The blades were right on their mark, descending with speed when the explosive bark of a double barrel shotgun shattered the moment.