Quintus was awfully reflective then. He was in a swarm of blood, cutting down Prison Guards in a hushed frenzy- that is, with his speech, of which there was none, and not his body. He was an agile bruiser, and amid his killing streak, he could not help but think about his conscience, and his purity lost. These men had families- but, no, they did not: silly Quintus; he thought, or they would not cruise along this forsaken ship. He wished then that he could hit himself on the head. He could not ponder so much about his enemies, whom he was in the process of cutting down, lest he let his guard and his movement down, and die.

He joined up with his brethren who charged to the quarters below. He saw Varrus crazed- he who was pounding at the door of the First Watch. It was strange; he saw Varrus occasionally bash his head at the door when all else failed. "Varrus, friend," Quintus interjected. "pray- stop; don't damage your head. Let's make a formation with the men, come on. I'll search around and collect the rest of the lads. You keep your head." With that he rushed off.

Varrus was suddenly very bleak. He sat down by the door of the First Watch and let his legs hang about. He hung his weapons by his side, and after a chilling look at the door again, he turned to his standing shipmates, his Colovian brethren. "Do you hear?" he said very irritably. "I've been bashing my head maybe, but I've been listening to the door, and… no one's made a sound. It's quiet in there; Gallus is quiet, or he is not in there. I'm awfully on the edge." So he sat downbeat, and so dwindled the spirits of the rest of the lads too, but before they managed to get too reflective, Quintus was back with the people he could muster from about. "We'll make a formation, as I said. We'll break a snippet out of that long mast and use it with all the men to breach us the way from this door." So Quintus said, and he took a handful of men of better build with him away. Varrus still sulked by the door of the First Watch, and he peered his ear in on occasion. He was frowning when Quintus' boys made it to the mast, and they could not cut it down without some small talk.

"I'm unsettled by Varrus, lads. He has been a fierce and hard man over this miserable journey, you know, but what is that attitude by the door? Is Commander Gallus such a character that his silence warrants this worry. I've seen Varrus for the first time as such, I'll tell you."

Other boys, as they cut the mast, too lent some of their willpower to the conversation, and Quintus realised with trepidation that they began to analyse Varrus' authority amongst themselves. He shouted his orders louder for the task more at hand so that the time to reflect for else was naught. "All right, boys. Mind the traffic," he said when they loaded the large bulk-piece of the mast upon their shoulders. They marched in loud unison their way down to the door of the First Watch down from the Quartermaster's cabin.

Despite his weight, Quintus was in relief when he saw that Varrus had a mirthful face. He was still lying next to the aforementioned door, but he was clutching his temple as if it was from a past laughter. They set the wood next to him, and Varrus ceased his conversation with someone else, and looked at it. His looks became still, and then stern. With one jump, he got up to his feet; he let loose from his throat "Down with this Door!" and the rest cheered him on. The boys of Colovia clutched the mast-fragment from all sides, and they came to balance. They would break their way to Gallus now.