He took the sword out of the scabbard and rubbed his thumb along the side of it.
He swung it, and it whistled in the air crisply, pleasingly.
He grasped it firmly in his right hand and walked to the door. He threw open the door and jumped back and away.
But it was safe; there was no one outside.
He stepped into the corridor.
Empty.
He looked both ways. He listened.
Then he began to run, swiftly, silently, on his toes.
At the first intersection, he stopped and surveyed the crossing corridor.
To his left, almost at the far bend, he saw a crewman; however, the man was not looking in his direction, and the captain felt that he could be reasonably safe from detection if he crossed quickly enough. He sprinted across the open space.