Harlock did his own checks, reminding himself it lacked some of the advanced scanners that he was familiar with, as his fingers brush against the trigger guard, flicking it open before closing it, as they move ghost-like, reminding himself what each do, it's almost like an early fighter jet.

"Ready," then he added. "Watch my right," while he had a little over a decade to adjust, this wasn't his usual controls, and his nerves are frayed with aches and needles - the pirate had to be realistic and not let his pride get in the way, as painful as it'd be to admit it.

There's a hiss as the clamps and restrains keeping the Feder in place released, and a crowkin waved an enchanted lantern as the hatch opens - signalling that it was now safe to move.

Then the Feder jerks sharply as Harlock grunts, annoyed at him - too much pressure. He eases, and the next steps were smoother, a gait not unlike a horse he thought to himself.