Three's a Crowd

[Admiral Hart]

Despite certain strangeness on board, life on Plunder's Heart continued in relative cheer. The immense amount of cash from their last job quickly overshadowed any angst or rumors on board. However, things remained tense between the doctor, the captain, and the first mate.

And questions were arising. Like just how Captain Hart knew the mysterious Mamba that was frozen in the hold. And tensions, over this, were also high, as despite Clara's assurances, many of the Orphans, especially Christian, resented her presence on the ship.

Which was why Jo was trying to distract the crew with a new job. It was slated to be simple, but lucrative. A ship full of luxury goods, transporting them from Earth to Mars. Minimal defenses and a good payoff. Sure, it was on a main trade route, but an experienced pirate knew the best times and places to hit such a vessel. And prove its security in familiarity was an illusion.

The Plunder entered firing range of the vessel and called out, "This is the Plunder's Heart!" over the comm, "Surrender your cargo and you live to sail again tomorrow!"

However, two other voices also flooded the comm at the same time. The viewscreen suddenly lit up, and Cook said, "Ma'am? Uh. We're not alone."

The very next moment, two calls came in to the Plunder, which were displayed side by side. The first was that fat weasel Tunstall, and the second was Thorn Scarsguard.

"What the hell, guys? This is our score. Beat it." Josetta snarled.

"We got here same time you did, Hart." Thorn replied. "Seems to me we got an even share of the cargo."

"Yeah, Hart!" Tunstall said. "Even share. We all board and take a third each."

Jo sighed. "Alright, you guys twisted my arm. But no funny business. Hart out." The screen went dead. "Alright, Jane, take us in just as fast as they are. I want to get there at the same time. Meanwhile, boarder crews, get ready for heavy fighting and look out for treachery. Meanwhile, we need to figure out a good way to backstab those bilge rats while we have the chance, because if we don't get them, they're almost certainly going to backstab us."

[Jason Thornvaald]

Thorn sighed as the comm. went dead. One of his men looked up at him hopefully. "Well that went well?"

The larger Captain snorted. "Like hell it did. Hart gave in way too easy, and Tunstall would steal a tit from a starving baby. They're undoubtedly planning on a double-cross, so we'll be doing the same." He turned to his First Mate. "Lyra, I want you to take Dorian, Nells and Harper. Neutralize Dane's crew. You know damn well they'll be on board. Gatson, Ronso and Wellman, you're on Halcyon's crew. For the love of God don't try to engage him, you'll only get your asses kicked. Just keep him busy."

Thorn stood from his seat on board the bridge, unsheathing his sword and eying the blade for nicks. "I'll take care of Tunstall and Hart. The rest of you, go for the haul. I want this cargo hold full to bursting before anybody puts their foot back on board, or you'll have to take it up with me afterward."

[T.K.]

T.K. whistled to himself as he sat in Engineering. His Goggles were laying nearby on the console, as he scanned in the communications frequency of the other two ships. He glanced over at Shiyounin, before he put the Goggles on.

She'd finally shown up a couple of days ago, but refused to speak or look directly at him. He'd looked through her programming, but he honestly couldn't find out what was wrong with her. He wasn't about to start threatening to memory Wipe her like her previous owner seemed to enjoy, so he'd just have to live with it.

He started the Dive, first hacking into the Buccaneer. It took him little time to crack it's security, and get into it's main Systems. People really should start to think about better security on their computers these days. He smirked as he downloaded some 'personal' information of the captains, before he reprogrammed their Weapon's Systems, and Engines.

After he finished, he quickly did the same to the Mjollnir, nodding that it actually took a few minutes to crack their system. Apparently some Pirates did learn after all. He downloaded some more personal information, before he logged out of their System.

He cleaned up the information he downloaded, and sent them to the Captain's personal computer, before he called her personal Com.

“Captain, this is T.K. Our friends won't be a problem once we're ready to leave.”

[Admiral Hart]

"Superb." Hart replied. "Clara, sweety," She said over her comm. "You wanna do Mommy a favor? I want you to watch the airlock and not let any of the other guys through."

"That's fine. I'll take some of the Orphans with me." She replied.

"Love you pumpkin."

"Love you Mom."

Hart then contacted the rest of the crew. "Alright, we're gonna have three boarding teams. Miller, you're in charge of the third one, take the auxiliry crew. Once we have the ship secure, we'll move that cargo and run for it."

The three ships docked. Hart smirked to herself. "I'll handle Thorn and Tunstall. Everyone else, get ready to backstab."

[Admiral Hart]

Hart was waiting on the bridge when Thorn ran in, and Tunstall a few moments later. She had a laser pistol trained on both of them. They quickly drew guns which they pointed at Hart and, after a moment thinking, Tunstall's "moment" longer than Thorn's, each drew a second weapon to point at the other.

"It's about bloody time you got here." Hart said with a smirk. "I was beginning to think you ladies stopped to get your nails done."

The fat piggy Tunstall growled a bit at that. Thorn just asked, "How the hell did you get here so fast?"

"Scarsguard, there's a reason why I'm the best Pirate in the Solar System, Heir to John Melrose's legacy, and all around higher class than you. It's because I'm one step ahead. Like, now, for instance." She said casually. "Even if you, by some longshot, manage to take my treasure from this ship, it's been made plenty hard for you to actually get away with it. And, Tunstall, your men, doubtless, took a path straight for my ship in order to take hostages. Which is dirty even for a pirate. So, I have a group of powerful, borderline sociopathic Mages with grudges against humanity guarding the hatch to my ship. And, Thorn," She looked at the second best pirate in the system. "You set out your boarder crews to capture and/or keep busy my crews. However, I didn't send out two crews like usual. I sent out three."

Thorn went pale. "But you don't have anyone who could.."

"I didn't last you checked. And I didn't update my crew manifest after I left dock just in case something like this happened. But now I have my new pet Snake cruising through the ship, probably ambushing your worthless men and/or worthwhile woman as we speak." Hart smirked. Thorn looked like he was going to cry.

"But, really, Thorn." Hart said casually. "I mean, you're the only pirate who really comes close to me in skill. Shouldn't this just be between the two of us?"

"...you know, Josetta, I think I can get behind that, for once." The other captain said as the two of them both pointed both their weapons at Tunstall in unison.

"W-wait, I've always held you two in the highest esteem." He said, tripping over his own words as he stepped backwards towards the door he came in. "A-as my betters, I mean. I would never try to get in between you two and a prize. I think I'll just cut my losses and take my men and go." The door opened, and he turned, dropped his guns, and bolted.

Not ones to miss a chance, bullets and laser bolts grazed and fired around him until the door shut. Then, on cue, both remaining captains turned their weapons on each other once again.

"There." Hart grinned. "Much better."

[Jason Thornvaald]

A lesser man would probably be stomping his foot and throwing a tantrum by now. As it was, Thorn felt damn close to the mark. His comm. was still open, so hopefully Lyra and Gatson had heard the change of plans and--if they weren't otherwise occupied and/or already dead or neutralized from Hart's new 'pet snake'--could make adjustments accordingly. The other thing Hart had mentioned worried at his mind though, making him scowl.

"Just what in the hell did you have done to my ship, Josetta?" he demanded after a moment of silent stare-down--both of them still leveling two laser pistols on the other. The redhead just grinned cheerily.

"Oh, you know T.K. He's just full of tricks, that one."

"Goddammit Jo, that's the second time in four months your little rabid grease-monkey has torn up my ship!" he snapped, incensed. "What in the hell ever happened to professional courtesy here!" Josetta rolled her good eye heavenward, sighing somewhat blandly.

"Oh don't be such a baby. It won't take that long to fix. Maybe a day or two under impulse power, and then you'll be good as knew. You know, provided your fifth-rate engineer can figure out the problem and correct it, that is."

Thorn colored a little at that, scowling. Hart never missed a chance to throw in a dig about his less-than-stellar crew, which only pissed him off--mostly from guilt, as he knew damn well she was right. And it never failed to hurt something in him, that he was apparently not good enough to attract the services of anyone better.

They all damned well worked for Hart instead.

Thorn's grip tightened on his pistols, and the air around him began to drop in temperature until their breath began to fog, and the controls of the bridge started to frost over. Hart showed no outward reaction to this other than to smile wider.

"Now, now, Thorn. Let's say we forgo the risk of breaching the hull with these glow sticks and settle this like real pirates?"

Thorn deliberated on that for a minute, trying to see if Hart had any other ulterior motive other than switching to blades. His sword was primarily aerantium, while hers was pure starborn metal. His was laced enough with the deadly stuff to not be cut in two on contact, but the fight would still damage it severely. He'd definitely be forced to get a new one, if he survived the fight. Let alone actually win it. Josetta Hart was infuriatingly good with a sword. He'd probably be able to hold his own for a while, but she was probably going to kick his ass.

Again.

Thorn sighed and lowered his guns, prompting a now-grinning Hart to do the same. They holstered their other weapons, and then drew their swords instead. The redhead sighed happily, shifting into a fencer's stance.

"I haven't had a good fight in ages," she purred, motioning with her free hand for him to come forward. "Don't disappoint me now, Scarsgard."

The Viking Pirate swung his heavier blade once in a low arc before darting in for the charge.

[Christian Monroe]

Christian hunkered down in a small niche just inside the freighter, a few feet away from the hatch that would lead back on board the Plunder. Around him several humans from one of the other pirate crews were impaled on spikes, expressions frozen in pain and terror, blood oozing slowly down the walls and pooling on the floor. The lion-like teen showed no reaction to his alpha's 'warning display,' other than the fact that the scent of their death was a heavy, cloying thing in his sensitive nostrils and driving him deeper into his instinctual need to hunt.

They had made him this way. The humans. Christian never knew his parents, if he even ever really had any. More than likely he had been spawned in an artificial womb, a purely scientific creation with no real home or family to cause any undue complications. He was meant to be the perfect soldier, after all. To that end he had been awoken every morning of his life to the cruel caress of energy batons, beaten from his bed, forced to endure all manner of tortures and testing. Brutally trained to fight by a regimen of scientists and some of the top Mamba handlers, trained to kill. Trained to do it very, very well.

What small shred of humanity there had been in him had been long since stripped away. Leaving the wild animal in it's wake. The one that didn't understand much more than the basic need for survival, who didn't want to understand any more than that. The elf-girl's attempts notwithstanding, Christian knew it was far too late for him. He would never be anything more than a killer. Clara understood that. Which was why she was his alpha.

As silent and deadly as the large feline he shared so many characteristics with, Christian slowly shifted his weight to keep his muscles from cramping without giving away his position, his eerie feline eyes trained steadily on the hallway he was guarding. His nose tipped slightly to the air, sniffing experimentally. His lips curled back in a snarl when he caught the faint scent of that Snake drifting in the recycled air vents, revealing his visibly fanged canines.

Fucking Mamba. It made his skin crawl to know that he was being forced to share air with the likes of those human-government-trained, pitiless bastards. Not just the dark-haired quiet one they called Miller, but the frozen one in med-bay, and now rumor was spreading that the Captain herself was a former Mamba. They were like cockroaches apparently. Only Clara's firm hold on him kept Christian from giving into the hatred that pooled in his gut like acid whenever he happened to pass near 'Miller' in the halls.

And Miller could seem to sense Christian's burning dislike, and perhaps had heard rumor of him, as the Mamba was always on careful guard whenever they neared. His fingers hovering near the hilt of one of his dozens of throwing knives, dark eyes hard and deadly, expression blank. Christian just held himself back for now, promising himself that one day, someday, he'd be free to release his fury on the skinny bastard and get back a little vengeance for all the hell he had endured at Mamba's hands for eighteen painful, torturous years.

Christian took in another deep lungful, committing the scent to memory. Another soft, low, deadly rumble rolled out of his chest.

Someday soon.

[Admiral Hart]

Hart had to hand it to Thorn. He was good. It was hard to see how Hoskell could have gotten the better of him except by cheating. The man moved with an agility that contradicted his size, and a brutal precision that would have eviscerated a lesser opponent handily.

But Hart was a cut above pretty much everyone. She had been trained from birth to fight by King and Queen Cobra themselves. Thus, after parrying, dodging, and thrusting for only a few minutes, gouges lined Thorn's beloved sword, and knicks and cuts his arms and legs, while Hart stood back, blade at the ready, and grinning.

"You've got skill, Scarsguard. You almost got me a few times." Jo smirked. "Almost."

The other pirate growled and launched himself forward again with a large overhead swing. Jo dodged back and slashed out, parrying by Thorn. The burly pirate then rushed forward in a surprise move and used his superior strength and weight to knock Jo back against a wall. Thorn brought his sword in for a strong stab, but Jo, rather than dodge to the side, pushed off the wall behind her and over Thorn, a strong kick meeting the back of his knee. Scarsguard stumbled forward and turned with a wide but powerful slash that Hart was already out of range of.

"No, really. I'd offer you a job, but I doubt your ego could handle working for someone so much better than you. Not to mention a woman." Jo continued flippantly.

Thorn kept a more cautious stance as the temperature in the room started to dip even farther.

"Careful Thorn. You play too rough and the Cobra might open her hood." Hart replied, her free hand on the dagger in her belt. "Or is it time to get serious?" Her breath was suddenly visible in front of her, and the room was getting quite cold. Almost unbearably, and the temperature was still dropping steadily.

Hart started forward, sword held behind her, and then lunged at Scarsguard. Her glowing white blade sang out and slashed the other Pirate across the back of the hand faster then he could move, and he dropped his sword with a cry. Hart pressed her advantage, but her blade, instead of something soft, met a second sword, this one seemingly made of the ice pulled from the water molecules in the room. With a second slash, Hart's sword demolished that blade, and before Thorn could concentrate enough for a third weapon, the smaller pirate's boot met him in the face. The larger man stumbled back, his nose bleeding heavily, as Hart's sword pressed to his neck.

"You've lost, Thorn." Hart hissed. "Take your men and go."

On that, Hart turned on her heel and started towards the door.

"Turn and face me!" Thorn yelled behind her. "Damn you this isn't over!"

Hart turned, a cold look in her eye. Thorn had retrieved his sword and made a second once again out of ice. The creation of the extra weapon, as well as keeping the bridge so deadly cold and his various wounds, seemed be taxing him more severely than he was letting on, judging by how hard he seemed to be breathing.

"You embarrass me every time. I'll die before I leave here embarrassed again, Hart." Scarsguard replied. "And I'll take you with me if I can."

Hart unsheathed her dagger and twirled it once in her hand. The edges of its glowing white blade separated and extended, forming a trident dagger. Thorn came rushing at her, with a double overhead swing. Hart ducked to the side, and his ice blade swung at her almost immediately. Hart caught the blade in between the tines of her dagger and clicked a switch. The dagger then clamped closed and, with a twist, snapped the ice sword off midway down the blade. His Martian steel sword came around next, and Hart ducked under it, forward and slammed his own severed ice blade into his shoulder before releasing her dagger's grip on it, reversing the blade in her hand, and punching him hard in the jaw with the pommel. He flailed at her, but Hart once again moved elegantly and tripped and shoved him to the ground, sword pointed at his face, and a cold, flat expression in her eyes.

"Take your men. Get back on your ship. And leave." Hart said coldly. Thorn growled up at her.

"I'm in a forgiving mood, Thorn. Don't test me." She replied. Then she smirked slightly. "Oh, and by the way, while I was beating and taunting you?" She smirked even wider. "Your comm was still open. Your whole crew just heard you lose, Thorn."

[Jason Thornvaald]

Thorn stood alone on the now deadly cold bridge for several minutes after Hart had left it, staring down at the nearly destroyed sword in his hands. Which were now completely covered in a thick layer of ice from the riot of emotions thundering in his blood stream. The huge pirate ignored the many wounds that were steadily bleeding through his clothes, despite the arctic temperature of the room. Instead he stared down sightlessly at the weapon, lost in the past.

"A pirate is only as good as his weapon, boy," Helm Thornvaald pronounced to his young son. The eight year old stared up at his father with hero-worship in his matching frost-colored eyes, as the burly Viking slowly ran the aerantium whetstone down the gleaming red and silver weapon. "Treat her right, take care of her, and she'll never betray you. Keep your weapon well, your crew fit and your ship tight and you'll never fail." The older pirate met his son's stare, his own expression suddenly deadly serious. "You either fight your way to the top, Jason, or you might as well stop flyin'. There is no place for second best in this 'verse. You hear me boy?"

Jason "Thorn Scarsgard" Thornvaald's fists tightened on the frozen sword until they shook. He ignored the way the ice melted and the how the blade suddenly dug deep into his palms. Sending a fresh stream of blood dripping to the floor. A moment later the ravaged aerantium sword--the one he'd inherited from his father's dead body nearly ten years ago--snapped in half.

The pale-haired Viking stared down at the ruined pieces for several more minutes, eyes cold and expression dark. Then he flung them from him with a vengeful snarl.

He reached up for the comm., ignoring the blood covering his hands. "All crew, back to the ship," he growled, voice low and hissing. "Now."

Then he turned and headed in that direction himself, stride long and powerful. Shoving the fatigue from his wounds and the over-extent of his powers with a stubborn determination. He neared the hatch of the Mjollnir, coming up against Gatson's boarding crew. Lyra and her crew had yet to arrive. All of them were sporting wounds, all of which looked like they'd been caused with throwing knives. And all of them looked less than cheerful.

Gatson eyed him sullenly. "Well that went really fuckin' well, captain," the boarder crewman sneered. "You got any other jobs lined up? Maybe some that don't involve you constantly getting your ass kicked by a wom--,"

Thorn never faltered. He kept walking for the hatch, also where Gatson happened to be standing. Before the somewhat burly crewman had a chance to realize what the larger Viking was about, Thorn drove his half-frozen fist into the other man's unprotected belly. When Gatson gasped out the air in his lungs and started to lean forward, Thorn grabbed him by the hair on the back of his head, whirled him around and then smashed the other man's face into the bulkhead, full-tilt.

Gatson slithered to the ground, bleeding from the nose and mouth, immediately unconscious. Thorn turned to the others, who eyed him with a mixture of fear and rebellion. For once, he didn't give a damn.

"Get. On. The. Ship," he hissed out, tone deadpan.

Then he turned again and ducked into the hatch. Fully prepared to pilot the ship his damned self if that's what it took to get out of here.

[Dane]

Dane and his boarding crew made it through the ship, just the three of them made it through the halls, looking for the weapons cache and failing.

"Every ship has a weapons storage...where in the blue hell is this ones!?" he thought to himself with a annoyed twisting to his lips.

He took a corner and smiled impishly at the sight that came down the hall way at him, Lyra smirked at him nearly breaking through the mask of determination firmly in place. Two of her crew followed side by side with her, both looking nervous so close to Lyra.

Dane smiled before speaking. "Lyra." he purred.

She glared at him. If looks could kill.... "Dane." she spat out, scoffing as she prowled toward him.

His crew singled out her own. She didn't wait for him to be ready, she charged him trying to catch him by surprise, the weapons expert was ready to weave out of the way and exchange blows with the taller female. It wasn't long before they fought there way down the hall and around the corner, Dane smirked and ducked into a small room. Her eyes narrowed slightly when he did, her assault actually picked up.

They fought around the room, himself not attacking back but expertly blocking, dodging or just plain out avoiding her attacks. Trying to read through the angry scowl on her face. She roared out and went to swing quickly with a back hand, he ducked underneath it and broke the distance between them, his lips where centimeters from hers when her head came forward and slamed into his, sending him stumbling back.

He growled low, scowling at the female. "What the hell Lyra?" she whipped her lip with the back of her sleeve, her stone cold stare refused to leave her face. She didn't answer him, just charged him again with a snarl. This continued for awhile, both of them not holding back the slightest, both of them bruised and bleeding.

Lyra bit her lip suddenly, her com buzzed in her ear, a look of concern crossed her eyes causing him to stop his attack and blink in surprise.

Mistake

Her gaze hardened again and she suddenly whipped her hip gun up and smashed the butt across the side of his head like a club, Dane didn't move in time and took the blow, stumbling to the ground and landing on the makeshift bed in a heap. He stared up at her for a moment, Dane smirked at her before darkness took him under.

Lyra stared down at the passed out weapons expert, she went to leave the room when she stopped. The large female stared down at him for a moment, her hardened expression melted into a smirk as she stared at him. After a few minutes of thinking she picked him up carefully and slung him over her shoulder, carrying him off the ship.

To god knows what 'tortures'.

[Admiral Hart]

"Cap'n!" Someone called as they rushed onto the bridge. Hart put the two halves of Thorn's sword in her belt and turned.

"Yes?" She asked.

"The other ships are gone, limping away ma'am, but Lyra. She took Dane." The boarder said in a panic. "If we hurry, we can..."

"We can probably head to the Cove and decide which of the cargo we want to keep and which we want to sell by the time she's done with him, you're right." Hart said in a tone neither surprised nor worried.

"Cap'n? Dane just got kidnapped." The crewman replied. Morgan stepped onto the bridge the next moment, and Miller was there too, though god only knew when he actually showed up.

"Yeah, I heard you. Dane got taken away by his girlfriend. So let's load up the cargo, go back to the Cove and let him have his fun before he's ready to come back." Hart said calmly. "What's the problem here?"

"...girlfriend?" Morgan asked, confused. "Jo, what are you..."

"I have one working eye, sweetie." Hart said, rolling said organ. "I've seen the two of them interact, and I know a few things via Madame A." She smirked. "Dane's in no danger beyond exhaustion and maybe a drain on his bodily fluids, if you catch my drift. So we pack up what we can, decide what we're gonna keep and what's going to be spurcing up our cabins and we go on back to the Cove and let the lovebirds to themselves for a week or two."

"...Jo, you can't be serious." Morgan replied. "You just embarrassed Thorn in front of everyone. Dane's not safe on that ship."

"He's safe as long as Lyra's keeping him safe. Thorn would never hurt the person that the girl who might as well be his sister loves." Hart countered. "I've already thought about what we're going to give Thorn back to get Dane back, too." She patted her belt, where Thorn's ruined sword lay. "Call it a prisoner exchange."

[Beau Altair]

"You should have seen it, Coop!" Beau exclaimed excitedly. The older pirate sighed somewhat loudly and rolled his eyes heavenward. Some of the others around them just chuckled good-naturedly at the younger sniper's enthusiasm.

The group of boarders were gathering up crates of goods--all sorts of luxury items meant to make every day life just a bit more cozy--and hauling them out of the hold of the freighter in an assembly line. The ship's crew were lined up along the far wall, eying the pirates somewhat sullenly as they made off with all of their cargo.

Altair, standing beside Cooper in the human chain, handed over the next crate with a wide-eyed grin. "I'm serious! It was one of the coolest things I've ever seen! Morgan totally dominated against those creeps from Tunstall's crew. I've never seen somebody move so fast in my life. I'm pretty sure he was breaking bones with every hit, and that's without activating his knuckles! And then! He picked this one guy up--literally picked him up, over his head and everything--and chucked him like a bowling ball right into the pile of the rest of them!"

"Geez, kid," Cooper groaned pitiably. "Why don't you just fuckin' marry him and get it over with."

That caused the others to chortle with amusement and Beau to color somewhat in embarrassment. "What?" he demanded defensively. "So I respect the guy as a fighter. What's wrong with that?"

Cooper cut him a snide grin. "You're practically slavering over there. If I hadn't caught you and Cass makin' out the other day in the rec-room I'd suspect you really did have the hots for Morg."

"Heh, maybe you should go ahead and join Morgan's fanclub!" Ivan jeered. Beau scowled.

"Whatever, man." Cooper laughed at the sniper's red-faced indignation.

"No, Beau. He's serious." Beau blinked, and Cooper laughed harder. "I'm deadly fuckin' serious. I dunno who started it, but Morgan's got an honest to God fanclub website on the mainframe. So does the Captain." The older pirate handed him a crate with a smarmy grin. "You should check it out when we're done here. I hear they give you an 'I Brake For Halcyon' bumper-sticker for joining."

[T.K.]

T.K. frowned as he flipped through the stacks of Video Games that had come off the ship.

“Got it, got it, Ryan's got it, got it, got it, Amillia has it, George has it. OH! Been looking for this one. Got it, got it, got it. Collectors edition. Got it, got it.”

Nearby, several others of the Engineering crew were also rifling through the pile, snagging a few more games. The ship's library of Video Games was already fairly large, thanks to T.K.'s shopping habits, so there really wasn't much to pull out, unless someone wanted a personal copy of something.

“OK kiddies, I'm done. I'm going to take the Screens, and set up the one in Engineering, then hit my quarters. If anyone needs me, remember what happened the last time someone tried to interrupt me playing Advent Armageddon.”

Brutis blanched, and self consciously rubbed his ribs.

As he was on his way out of the cargo hold, T.K. spotted Shiyounin examining something in a far corner. Curious, he walked over to have a look. Shiyounin was too occupied with starting at a new style Holo Imager to notice his approach.

At a glance, it looked like some new sort of projector style Imager. It appeared to have multiple size adjustments on it. While a little bulky, a little work could probably slim it down, and even a little more, it could be modified to fit Shiyounin's PHI.

He reached out and grabbed it, adding it to his armload of loot.

Shiyounin spun around and stared at him, as he whistled his way out of the cargo hold.