Snippet #2213651

They were going down. They weren't just 'hit' or 'grazed', but this giant piece of man-made machinery was going to leave its mark on the surface of whatever planet was beneath them, and they would be casualties if they didn't get the fuck outta dodge. Some people might hit a bump in at this point, because Dalton wasn't given a single order, he was given two. While Spaar ordered anyone and everyone to buckle up, Write told them to abandon ship, and quite frankly, he felt she had the better mind at the moment. Nothing against the captain, who probably hated seeing his ship go down, but Dalton wouldn't die with it, if he could help that.

Because he himself had no opinion on what they should do, he said nothing, but nodded. His rank, Captain like the other two figures on this ship, was... dull compared to the others. Technically, he was about the third most powerful person on the ship, with Write and Spaar outranking him....somehow. Dalton was thrown on this ship for some reason, and because he didn't care to argue with a religious man and a blind brute, he didn't have any problem with this, and as of yet, he hasn't heard any 'stupid' orders from his superiors. As such, he started out towards the nearest escape pod with the intent of getting out of here alive.

The ship rumbled again, this time much more violently before suddenly, Dalton found himself climbing up an arced hallway. "Down" began feeling harder to keep up with, and unfortunately, he started falling at the same time a rupture in the area beneath him appeared. The aged Spartan, knowing exactly what this meant, clutched his fists as viciously, he was sucked out of the ship.

Well fuck.