"He spoke in a trade tongue known to the Omega. The pirate confessed, in mocking and sarcastic fashion, to negligence in your care, and heavily implied that we are bound for a place called 'Crying Coves,' where we are apparently to be sold. I for scrap, and you, presumably, into slavery." Despite the heinous nature of the described treatment, Kor's tone is more thoughtful than outraged. "Hm. I have no knowledge of our captors beyond what they came to our shores with, but if they retreated with the full remnants of their forces, then they are still a flotilla with several viable ships, each full of combat-ready pirates. Even if we were to overpower them, I do not believe we could make a successful escape - a single errant shot could sink us in the middle of the ocean, and we do not know where we are - fatal in a foreign sea."
Another pause. "However, upon arrival and sale at the Crying Coves, we will be handed to slavers and salvagers, far less accustomed to battle. It would behoove us not to become broken, literally or metaphorically, which means staging an escape from the Coves themselves and not the point beyond. I can attain the element of surprise by revealing my active state at an opportune moment, but the chance of success increases if you join me."
The blue face tracked across Robert's form. "Your wounds begin to fester. I can sterilize them, though the process will be exceedingly painful. Worse, it will reveal that I am capable of movement and indeed wielding the elemental fire again. Is there anything in here that we could use to fashion rudimentary clothing for you?"