Atara was running through the ship. Her normal gunning station was low on ammo already, so when she went out soon after they were attacked, there was nothing left to do but inform the other gunners over the radio comm link and almost roll out to find more ammo. On Tanith, those that joined the military at 13, like Atara did, were pushed to their limits and over, again and again, so Atara knew she could run fast and hard the whole way to and from through sheer force of will, so she honestly didn't think she'd be away from her station that long.

Normally she could even keep running through a jump - but then the jump failed. The ship stumbled and jostled, knocking Atara off her feet mid-step, so she lost her balance and fell into the wall. Bright liquid smeared onto the steel wall. Atara swiped her hand over her face and forehead, and felt just a cut on her lip and some blood from her nose. She'd be fine - head wounds always bled a lot. Grumbling curse words under her breath in Tanithian, she carefully tried getting to her feet using the wall as an assistant, changing goals. The ammo didn't matter now, for jumping to fail meant they'd been hit pretty badly, and were probably going to crash soon, if were not already falling. Her new tactic was to regroup with as much of Iron Talon as she could, and see if they could survive this.

She started to run down the hallway again, albeit more slowly this time, but running and a falling ship wasn't really a good mix, and another hit sent her sprawling again. She crashed into another wall. She hit the back of her head this time, and as the world started fading out around her, the thought in her mind was that her older brother would so be telling her [i]I told you abandoning our noble military for childish dreams of mercenary space adventures would get you killed, I told you so[/i] if he were here right now.

When Atara woke up, all was still. They must have finally crashed while she was out of it.She reached to touch her face. Her face still had blood on it, but it was mostly dried. That was good. Sitting up, she checked her status and well being. Her armor and weapons were a bit damaged but still on her, and she didn't seem to have any other wounds. That was good. It was time to get out of the ship, before something caught fire. Then, she got the alert that there were hostiles. Great. This was just what their team needed. She then frowned a bit. Besides whoever sent the alert, she had no idea if there even were any survivors. She'd figure that out later. Not she had to get out of here.

Most of the walls in this hallway had been damaged. Atara would have to move carefully to avoid getting hit by falling wall or debris. She stepped purposefully and lightly, occasionally dropping to her knees and her stomach to wiggle her way underneath the metal.

Then the bomb was exploding, and Atara broke through one of the ship's glass windows, gritting her teeth as the shards came into contract with her skin. She hit the ground - the grassy ground, apparently - and through sheer power of will forced herself to shrug it off. It was just a little pain, not even anything major. She didn't have the luxury to indulge herself in the pain she felt right now. Her eyes scanned the area quickly. A forest, she could maneuver a forest, ands it would put something between herself and anyone shooting at her. While she wanted to help see if she could find any survivors, standard procedure with the Iron Talon in a situation like this was to get to safety first and the regroup. Taking a breath, she made for the treeline.