The beast roars and shrieks, cutting off the scathing retort Ford had been preparing to deliver with a deafening howl of rage and a violent swipe of its arm.

That's not what scares Ford, though. That's not what makes his heart suddenly miss a beat. That honor goes to the pressure coming down on him on all sides, the one lifting him off the ground and pulling him through the air like he was a child's plaything.

He fights against its grip, he fights like hell even as it pulls him out of the Kraken's path, shoves him towards safety before that massive tentacle can come down and turn him into a bloody pulp. He fights until he wins and he falls, dropping back onto the deck like a stone, heavy and without any of his usual grace. That says something, probably, about how unfocused he is, about how unsettled that little trial-run as a ken doll made him, but he doesn't waste time thinking about any of that. He doesn't waste time worrying how he must look, scrambling to his knees and reaching for the gun at his hip before he's even on his feet, his finger on the trigger before he's even lined his sights.