Arlyn was pitched from the bed, the restraint straps to hold him down in the bed under normal space-conditions long stressed past the point of breaking during the turbulent landing.  He can only faintly remember the crash - most of it blacked out in the shell-shock of the situation, and pushing himself up, his hand slipping on some debris on the floor he tried to look around - the faint white light giving starbursts in his vision.<br/><br/>He ached - ached all over.  He thought there was something wrong with his feet only to find they were tangled in the remains of the straps still clinging to the bulkhead.  He winced as he contorted to free himself - his knee and ankle was sprained - hopefully just a sprain.<br/><br/>Arlyn quickly took an account for himself.. there was something sticky on his face.  Tasting it.. blood.  His head throbbed but after such a tumble - it was to be expected.<br/><br/>Fumbling along the floor on his hands and knees, he made his way over to the white light, reaching for the manual door-release.  It was curious..all the normal ship-board sounds were silent - silent like a grave.  Taking a deep breath, Arlyn concentrated past the pain and slowly worked the door open - intending on entering the common area of the ship - taking in the final condition of the ship and the situation of the other passengers.