[center][h3][color=00ff00][b]Jack Mallory, X.O.[/b][/color][/h3][/center]

Jack sighs, resting his face in his hand. Wodan, for all its intelligence, didn't get it. And if a machine sentience couldn't work it out, there was little chance the other crew members or the passengers would.

"No," he said quietly, "We shouldn't depend on our [i]human[/i] experiences alone in this."

He glanced up at the screens, noticing a commotion. "What's going on over there? Someone have an accident?"

Or perhaps this was the local custom of standing around the bushes?

Priorities:
1. secure the ship
2. restart the generators.
3. restart the engines.
4. move to a location higher up where the oxygen was at 21% and safer for the crew.
5. work on expanding their food supply. 

That would be hardest. They'd need to find a patch of ground and sterilize it, then mix the sterilized soil with samples from their stores and makeshift gardens so they could start growing crops to feed all the extra mouths. Maybe, if there was left overs, they might start producing booze the locals would enjoy - a revenue stream that wouldn't be quite as dangerous as explaining how their weapons worked.