When the plane shuddered it threw Oscar forward, and he hit his head hard on one of the cushy seats of the plane. The blow dazed him and he fell to the ground, his vision spinning... Or was that the plane? He had a hard head, but as Jane mentioned just moments ago... It wasn't that hard. He pushed his hands to the ground and forced himself onto his knees, looking up the aisle to Athena, who was screaming at one of the staff members of the Freedom Force. No parachutes? Shit. Oscar knew how to parachute. Even if the last time he had taken a jump had been on June 6th, 1944, some time during the pre-dawn morning over a stretch of French woods, he still knew how to use one. It wasn't something you forgot... Even if you weren't blessed, or perhaps cursed, with a total memory like he was.<br/><br/><strong>"Everyone strap in!"</strong>Someone yelled... Everything was moving too fast for his confused mind to differentiate who had said the words, not that it mattered. He was already climbing unsteadily into a chair and strapping himself in, his eyes going to check on his other teammates. Dr. Wilson was buckled in now, and she was the only one he worried about. Athena could probably survive the crash anyways, and definitely didn't need help with a seatbelt, and the kid could worry about himself. When he was buckled in, Oscar dipped his head low and wrapped his arms protectively around his dome, the only really vulnerable part of his body. Unless he took a really huge piece of shrapnel to his chest, he wasn't in that much danger. Oscar had a hard time convincing himself of that as their plane dropped like a stone towards the earth.