Five Minutes

"If I'm not to be ransomed," Tycondrius growled, "then I would at least like to be sold by private channels, only to be afforded by the wealthy elite."

"Leader..."

He turned down to look at furiously blushing Korr, "Never accept anything less than the best, young lady."

"...Got it."

The two remaining pirates yelled a battlecry of sailors' curses, one pointing a pistol and the other rushing forward with a shield and waraxe. 

Tycondrius snapped his fingers. 

⟬ ⌈Commander's Strike⌋ activated. ⟭

Korr suddenly tightened her legs around Tycon's waist. Sitting up, she embraced him, stuffing his face into her modest cleavage.

...It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, but he did not have the time to enjoy the situation. He was furiously winding up his crossbow, trying to load another poisoned bolt.