(OOC note: anything underlined is Istomin internal thoughts)

[u]This is not good. I’m trapped in a burning hulk of metal. The ship did have a name formerly, but that does not matter. Now...I'm gonna get out of here.[/u] Istomin was not in the best of shapes, but compared to the rest, who were either dead or gonna die, he was fine enough. Extreme bruises and one hell of a headache are more easily healable than having your bones broken or worse. [u]Looks like I’m still in the cargo bay. I just gonna step over the bodies and crates and get to the door on the left side.[/u] Istomin finds himself slowly walking towards the left-side, only to find that the door led to a solid slab of metal. [u]I guess that way is uhm...blocked. How about…[/u]Istomin’s train of thought was quickly broken by the sounds of plasma cutters just a few meters away from his current spot. 

The shape of a square was cut from below, and two heads popped out of the opening. “Hello, Doctor Istomin. Are you feeling ok?” says one of the fully-helmeted men. Istomin nods, giving a warm smile. “I’m alive and that is well enough,” Istomin notes as he is carefully lowered down the opening with the help of the crewmembers. [u]How lucky that I found these two lads at just the right time.[/u]

“How are we gonna get out of this hellhole?” Istomin asks, curious about whatever or not these two have figured out some kind of pathway out of here. One of them nods. “We have. We managed to find and cut an opening to the outside. The hole is in the kitchen. You can’t miss it,” says the crewmember. [u]Professionals, I take it.[/u]

The three found themselves walking all over the place from the cargo-bay to a hallway into a door and into another hallway, which led to the boiler-room and then into the bunkers and into the armor and then finally the kitchen but only at the eating tables. The kitchen proper was just a few footsteps away. “What’s the status of the ship?” Istomin asks, wondering if the thing was kept in one place. 

“The whole damn ship got broken apart. We’re at the mid-section of it. The whereabouts of the rest are unknown,” the crewmember notes as he points to the hole made above the kitchen. Istomin was the first to get up there. The two crewmembers lifted the man up while three more lads on the outside grabbed the upper-half of Istomin. Before long, the Doc was off the ship and now outside, in the wilderness with whatever survivors there were. 

The surroundings were not pretty, to say the least. Teams of men and women worked to carry wounded to makeshift medical bays, while others had to dig up mass-graves to drop off the dead into. Elsewhere, people were creating tents for the sick and for homes. There was only one thought that filled Istomin’s brain.

[u]Well shit.[/u]