CALAMITY ROLL: [1]The ship's uncontrolled gyration causes some key structural bolts in the engine housing to fail, causing the entire rear end of the vessel to tear away spectacularly and hurtle asunder from the rest of the burning wreckage. The loss of the ship's power plant causes all the systems that haven't already melted to short out, including the artificial gravity generator - everything that's not nailed down is immediately pressed into the ceiling with a judicious helping of g-force, and anyone left on the ship is now at the full mercy of the laws of physics. The ground is getting close enough to make out details on now, and what's left of the ship is still falling at well beyond terminal velocity.
pray for Salvation since at this point I'm Screwed?
[3] You put your head between your legs and start begging whatever's up there to cut you a break. It's at about that point that you feel the artificial gravity below you ceasing to exist, and you begin bouncing around the maintenance tunnel like a fleshy tennis ball. Good thing you thought to protect your head just then... as soon as you're able to grab onto something and hold on, you start wracking your brain for a real way out of here. You're understandably a little too anxious to come up with a concrete plan of escape at the moment, but a few possibilities fly through your potentially-concussed mind... you came from the cargo bay, right? There's gotta be something useful in there, even if it's just a crate full of soft things to cushion your impact.
Frank uses any piping he can to clamber his way over to the goddamn escape pod. He must survive.
[4] The sheer heat outside begins creeping into the room as you clasp your welding-gloved hands onto the nearest pipe, then the next, then another. They creak in protest, threatening to snap under your weight, but the aerodynamic forces threatening to throw your body aside like a used paper towel force you to keep your movements rapid and focused. After a deft feat of agility, you finally pull yourself back onto somewhat-solid turf, squeezing into a small hole in the exposed hull plating that drops you directly into the escape pod bay. Lo and behold, there's one remaining pod - it looks a little melted, and you've no way of checking its seating capacity or integrity now that the power is out, but you've no other choice now. You just need to find a way to open the launch tube door... you're briefly distracted from coming up with a solution, however, when you hear a Bracken-shaped object slam into the ceiling above you and drop down next to you.
Bracken starts to crawl on all fours toward the escape pod.
[4] You only watch long enough to see Frank helplessly skid towards the hole - you can't quite bear to check if your brief fracas ended up dooming him, and there's no time, anyway. You scuttle towards the hanging-open airlock leading into the escape pod bays just as the ship's artificial gravity shorts out, and you receive a generous helping of g-force that removes you from the disintegrating floor tiles and catapults you partway towards your destination and partway towards the ceiling. You hurtle through the airlock just as half of it drops away into the open void next to you and you barely manage to orient yourself to avoid smashing your head against the ceiling. You bounce off it in a clumsy manner and hit the floor, where you raise your bruised head to see Frank gripping tightly onto the pod launch controls. You don't know how many people that thing holds, but if it's just one... then the fight still isn't over.
Have a safe landing, and if successful, look for the escape pods of other survivors.
[1] Escape pods are of somewhat lighter construction than Imperial freighters, so you figure things will go fine as you sail free of the burning wreckage, seemingly flying upwards as your velocity drops far more rapidly than the heavy vessel below you. Still lighter than your craft, however, is the fist-sized, super-heated chunk of hull plating that shoots through your pod like a molten bullet, very nearly removing your leg in the process and causing critical damage to its cheaply-designed systems. The in-built navigation computer fails in a spectacular shower of sparks, and these things don't come with windows - as such, you've no idea what you're going to be landing on, when you're going to be landing on it, or how fast you're going to hit it. To make matters worse, a good chunk of your calf is missing. You really wish that weird old guy who inducted you into the ways of the Friction was here to guide you now...
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Topic: Roll to Escape the Spaceship [Players: 4/4, Waitlist: 2/4] (Read 9601 times)