Baz looks forward just in time to see the ship being engulfed, his jaw dropping. His cigar falls to the deck and he blink-blinks, awestruck. "Christ on a bike..." he mutters, shaking his head to regain his senses.<br/><br/>He begins running aft, feet slipping on the sloping deck. He drops to all fours and begins running like a conventional rat, scanning for something to use as a weapon or an aid to his escape.