<div class="floatright">(http://i44.tinypic.com/2vlwlc1.jpg)</div>"I swear, I'm going to reformat that computer one of these days," Malcom muttered to himself as the klaxon sirens went off. Scrambling from the ship's port engine room, he quickly made his way to one of the emergency crash-webbing areas on the ship and strapped himself down. He grumbled to himself in frustration--he had JUST gotten the port engine completely settled, and then something like this happens to the starboard one!? This wouldn't have happened if the captain had actually listened to him more often and taken the time to invest the money into newer equipment. He might be a genius, but there were limits to what even one such as he could do with the few parts and old, shoddy equipment that the ship was built from. But noooo, instead the money went into other things. Like the martini mixer that the captain was fond of. Really!?<br/><br/>Well, now they were either going to die, or live, and there was nothing much he could do. He resigned himself, wondering what the afterlife would be like--when suddenly the ship tilted, and the voice of the annoying computer came again. A strange planet...? He hoped the air was breathable--anything to get off the ship. "Why did I even join this crew in the first place...? Oh yeah. The so-called 'money' that was supposed to shower on us..." he grumbled to himself as he hoped that at least the environment on the planet was breathable. His anger welled up inside of him, and he desperately wanted to punch someone in the nose until their face was black-and-blue, to let out the fuming anger on something so that it wouldn't bubble within himself. "Fuck. I'm not going to die here," he muttered to himself, his anger mounting.<br/><br/>He felt the pulls of several G on his body, pulling him fast against the crash webbing and wondered if his words were going to be proven false in the next few seconds. Since the crash webbing was nowhere as secure as one of the proper seats he could feel himself being pushed to and fro, his back occasionally pushing against the hull. One violent turn, and suddenly he felt a sharp pain where the back of his head met the metal plating that separated the breathable environment from the vacuum of space... and everything went dark.