Drake paused, recognizing the sound of an unsheathed sword. Considering that all of the guards had been eliminated, and none of the passengers [i]should[/i] be carrying swords, that narrowed the possibility of his mystery assailant to one person... He rounded the the corner of a large cargo crate, with a few feet between him and Garin. His prosthetic arm was raised in front of him, and his hand had formed the shape of a finger gun, which he mockingly “shot” once at Garin, recognizing his crew mate on sight. “[b]I was wondering when you’d show up,[/b]” Drake said sardonically.