CALAMITY ROLL: [5]Super-heated flakes of cheap armour plating peel off the ship's exterior as it dangerously skims the upper atmosphere, losing more and more metres of altitude to the indomitable forces of gravity and aerodynamic friction. Although the increasing drag makes for a bumpy ride and liberates the outer hull of some of its more delicate instruments, things aren't declining quite as rapidly as much of the crew feared. Mostly everyone has reached an escape pod at this point, with time to spare, and there's precious few of them left to go around for the stragglers.
..I knew I wasn't trained well enough. Guess I'll need to go to that marsh planet, after all. Sorry, people.
Get out in an escape pod, but don't prioritize myself unless it would help more people survive in the long run.
[4] You elect to give up on manipulating the fate of the doomed Imperial vessel - for some reason, you never felt particularly inclined to help anything related to any sort of 'Empire' anyway - and make for the pods. You navigate the upper deck's corridors with enough aptitude to locate the pod bay, but much of the crew has already made use of the available pods while you were busy headbutting expensive bridge equipment. There is, however, one remaining pod on the command deck - and it seats one. You were hoping that one could be you, but another individual skids to a halt in front of you just as you reach it. He's one of the reservist marines that tends to get assigned to low-risk transport missions such as the one this ship was undertaking, and although he evidently didn't have time to get his pyjamas off in the rush to escape, he
did find the time to liberate his laser rifle from the armory. He eyes you warily, and you get the feeling he's not as inclined as you are to give up the single available spot in the pod for someone else.
Wander around, Theres bound to be someway out of here...
[4] You spend a minute or so bumping into walls and tripping over crates in the dim light of the cargo bay before locating an access door that a panicking cargo technician must've forgotten to close on his way out. All the doors in the corridor beyond, however, are shut tight, and you lack the means to open them with your current access level - which is 'nothing'. There's a couple of ventilation hatches in the immediate area, though - some of which lead into the floor, others into the ceiling. Not very helpful, considering you don't know either which deck you're on or which one you're headed for... though there's a single non-electronic maintenance door that someone left ajar, if you decide to opt for lateral instead of vertical movement.
Frank decided to take his chances. He descended into the vent-thingy, and turned on his flashlight, trying to navigate to the pods.
[3] You wonder to yourself if these tunnels were even designed for human traversal as you wiggle your way past a low-hanging pipe - that thought, however, is knocked out of your head when your hard hat collides with a second low-hanging pipe immediately behind the first. Nevertheless, your months of experience have granted you superficial knowledge of the twisting shafts you're in, and after a few minutes' wriggling and crawling, you fall out of a ceiling vent unceremoniously. A quick glance around tells you that you've found your way to the brig - not where you wanted to be, necessarily, and not an area that you technically have access to, but you do happen to know that there's a battery of escape pods not far from here on this deck... if you can just reach them without the use of your now-inadequate access card.
Push my bed under the vent and use the screwdriver to remove the screws and climb in.
[4] Thinking quickly, you pull your bed into the centre of the cell and climb atop it, using your years of screwing experience to do away with the bolts holding the vent cover above you in place. It drops into your hands and you scramble upwards after a few (admittedly rather fun) jumps atop the ratty old brig mattress you were so recently using to nap on. You notice a few flashes of light glancing off the cramped vent walls further up the shaft, before a mighty clattering and a pained grunt from below heralds their disappearance. It seems like you weren't the only one who had the idea to use the ship's various hidden passageways to get around, though you do wonder if whoever it is you just saw knows where they're going better than you do.