She was alone. That thought scared Hilary more than any other possibly could at the moment. She stared at the wrecked mess of the corridor she had meant to be going down, most of her squad lay trapped under debris, dead instantly, including Lt. Winters. She stared at his corpse dumbly, what was she meant to do now? There was a sign designating which corridor she was currently in, but it meant nothing to her, she hadn't been able to learn the full lay-out of the ship, instead just learning the route her squad had been given to their assigned escape shuttle. Now that route was blocked off. Screw it, she'd simply have to go back and hope to find another squad or shuttle. She turned and began to run, her bare feet clanging off the metal deck.<br/><br/>After a few minutes she was feeling desperate, her gun was heavy in her hand, the screaming metal of the ship wrenching itself apart loud in her ears, her mouth dry. The only thing that kept her going was the thought of her father, she could almost hear his words now "Dead because she was too dumb to find the escape shuttle." She almost ran straight past the turning but a sign caught her eye, almost more in desperation than hope she stopped to read it. "32 B." She broke out in grin, for once her body was working to her favour. 32 B was her bra size, someone had pointed that out to her when she'd been told where to find the other shuttles. With renewed energy she sprinted down it, turning a corner she saw a tall scarred looking officer waiting at the open hatch. She threw him a salute which he ignored, simply motioning her in, relieved she threw herself into the first empty chair and began buckling herself in.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>