[ Ugh, no. Nobody's coming to save Reyson this time, and he has people to avenge. These... people...? No, that would be too easy. He won't win by doing nothing. He gets to his feet, laborious. Thick streaks of ashes have ground into his fine white clothing, out of place on what is a relatively sterile flying ship. ]

Too bad.

[ And then he backhands Harlock across the face. ]

Move anyway!