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If I can see it doesn't look human, I'll keep unloading into it until it either kills me or it stops moving, then I'll give it a few extra for good measure. If I'm trained military, I see no reason to assume I'd be in a panic, but let's roll with it. If the target is vague, what I do also depends on ROE and mission objectives. Cleanup duty? Fire without challenge. SAR? Call out to it, shoot it if it dosn't respond in at least a vaguely human manner. I wouldn't alert other units (if present), as warning them would give that thing plenty of time to scram or attack, neither of which I want.

It's worth remembering that no trooper with an IQ of at least 70 would be alone. Worst case scenario, you'd have your buddy with you, if not your fireteam or entire squad. This is especially true in urban and generally close quarters combat. Cemeteries are full of lone wolves, and having someone with you boosts confidence. I might not be able to hit it, but the others significantly increase the odds of that thing going down.

Regardless of whether I am alone or not, the question mentions a laser shot ((I'm assuming that's what a "laster shot" is supposed to be.)). Lasers are recoilless, making followup shots easier than with projectile weapons, which feels worth noting.

Also, going into a derelict station without image intensifiers or at least a taclight is begging for trouble, and I can't think of a taclight that wouldn't reach as far as a human can sprint in a second or two. Seeing your target is half the fight. As the surrounding machinery is stated to be hot, I wouldn't use thermals, as the hot surroundings are probably going to be hotter than whatever the target is.
Nah, I'm just a nerd who likes spaceships. I would LIKE to be an engineer, but as things stand my grades disagree.
"Assuming I was for some reason working on a thruster I didn't disable beforehand and that the sudden acceleration doesn't kill me, I'll send a very impolite and probably extremely terrified message to C&C. They can't help me fix the problem if they don't know there is a problem. Best case scenario would be to cut forward engines without applying braking thrust, as that would let me pull myself back to the ship via the tether or use the air gun like a thruster to propel myself back. For extra safety, I could use the air gun to move from behind the ship' silhouette. That way, if breaking thrust is applied, I'll be clear of both the engines and the hull itself, saving me from getting incinerated or smeared across the hull.

If the ship must for some reason maintain constant acceleration, then I might still be able to use the air gun to move myself from behind the ship. This is a longshot, as the ship's constant acceleration would try to keep me in the 'starting' position. As long as the ship remains under constant thrust, I see no reliable way out of this mess." - Astrid
EDIT: And of course further instructions come just as I post (Ain't no 'max' speed in space :))
That's why I wrote it in a 'If possible A, if not then B' way with the percentage of how fucked you are increasing.
"Alert whoever's on watch to the fire, get into a sealed sompartment such as another section of the storage bay or a dedicated pressure shelter if present, and vent it to space, wouldn't count on fire retardant where O2 tanks are part of the equation. Give it time to cool down before reintroducing atmsphere.

As for venting the room while I'm there, I'd rather not. Even with a rebreather, vacuum does nasty things to a Human body, and without an air supply, you'll be unconscious in ten and dead in ninety or so seconds. If a suit utilizing high-pressure breathing mix is present, I'd pass unless I absolutely can't get out of the room, as those are rigid or semi-rigid suits that take a while to put on. Going straight into a suit using low-pressure breathing mix without an hour or so of pre-breathing said low-pressure mixture would give me a nasty case of 'The Bends', also known as 'Diver's Disease', but that takes time to kill you, so such a suit could work. Low-pressures suits are soft or skin-hugging, therefore much faster to put on, too.

The small tanks I'm filling up are stated to contain pure O2, which would either:
- Cause oxygen toxicity and kill you at normal atmospheric pressure.
- Cause The Bends anyway at low ressure. I'm assuming this would be the case, as they are stated to be for use in space suits." - Astrid
Still here, just waiting to be told where we're going.
You can always say he passed out from the booze. :)
“No. Bloody. Way. I’ll be dead in two weeks from workload alone. This! This was the best ship of those available?” she sighed, her face buried in her palms in desperation. “On second thought, at least we didn’t get one of the old Thedas-class freighters, though that’s probably because all forty of them were fortunately scrapped nine years ago. That, and you wouldn’t fit, those things were built for midgets.” she tried to find some sliver of good news, gesturing to the meat mountain security officer as she added the last bit. “According to old tradition, renaming a ship brings misfortune. Though I have to wonder if this can get any worse, just look at it. The power core on this thing was considered ancient by the time it was designed.” she shared in response to Mustafa’s question.

“Well, that’s one more ship class for the tech journal, didn’t think these were still found outside salvage yards and museums.” she thought out loud as she entered the ship, taking in the smell of dusty air and mold. “On the bright...ish side, it runs on almost nothing, so we shouldn’t find ourselves out of fuel anytime soon. That being said, you lot probably already figured out where you can find me from my incessant tech-whining, so that’s where I’ll be if needed for something. If you feel a rapid rise in temperature or your organs shutting down due to radiation exposure, run. Then again, in the latter case, don’t bother. Until later.” she finished and headed for the engineering bay.

Astrid entered her new workplace, sighing at the state of it. There was something sad about seeing the heart of the ship like this - silent, empty and cold. Something one would expect from such a place was just missing, like poker without betting. She set her bag down and got to work setting up, removing the plastic foils covering the instrument panels, careful not to upset all the dust they’ve gathered, and dumping them into an unused space next to the door, unaware of their janitor’s rampant OCD and retrieved her inspection tablet. “Don’t fret, little junker, I’ll have you back up and running in a day’s time.” she whispered as if trying to comfort the ship while marking down all the things she had to do before she could clear the ship for departure. “So how about you don’t kill us all in the next hundred years? Sounds good?” She opened a media player in a separate window on the tablet and set up a playlist, one particular track striking her as appropriate to start with. It was shaping up to be a long day.
Cold? You know how hot it gets when the reactor starts melting?
Ship picked, we got the PMs, not much to do but launch.
”No, most people aren’t stupid enough to alienate the top ten students. But even if that were the case, at least I went to school.” she shot back at Josk in the most friendly tone anyone’s ever heard her speak, and even with a smile, ”And point defenses cannot target it if it goes fast enough, hence the gravity assists. Shields…?” she shrugged with her hands, ”Acceptable variable, we won’t know unless someone tries. Or someone gets their hands on the Spire specs and bothers to do the math. Not me, I have stuff to do. And I’ll have you know I was quite good at navigation. At least better than I was at coding, those… those were dark times of my education.”

The cap caught Astrid’s attention by suddenly answering his own question after watching them bicker drunkenly. She didn’t know what he thought about them at that moment, but she would feel confident betting it wasn’t flattering. She didn’t envy his situation at all. He wasn’t just a part of a crew of idiots - he was supposed to lead a crew of idiots. As much as she - under normal conditions - disliked the Satasi, even a sober, clear-minded Astrid would have to agree with the pilot’s assessment of the universe. Dumbies everywhere, indeed.

”Oh, joy, another sorec- soc- witch, damn it, that can mess with brains. Because we needed more of those around.” Astrid groaned before brightening up as an idea passed through the alcohol haze and into her mind, ”But that means she can work for her meals without dragging Tony or a datapad around for communication all the time. Frees her hands up for a broom or… whatever she can do. Five by five, and indeed no static.” Astrid tried to accompany the last sentence with a hand gesture showing five fingers, but her motor controls utterly failed her, resulting in something that could at best be considered a weird wave.
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