Eligos cursed loudly as he saw the result of his onslaught upon the foes onboard, which was much less than the expected. With brilliant blueish flames, courtesy of the high-tier alcohol burning across the hull, furniture and his strewn-about clothing, he saw the shiny exoskeleton of the creatures rise, advancing from the floor ceiling and walls, mobile and apparently unhindered by any of the bullets that hit them...He had seen those rounds being used against civilian and industrial androids and cyborgs with frightening results, and yet they seemed to barely make a dent in the things.

"Sturdy little fuckers aren't you?"

Well, he didn't have many options right now, and with the resignation of a cornered beast, he reached back for his matched set of lockpicks, the trusty fireman's axe and Halligan bar, allowing them to slide in their hand until only the vulcanized rubber at the end lay in his grip, the heads touching the industrial floor with a soft metallic sound, before he released the limiters on his cybernetics. At once he felt a sense of weightlessness, and ghost pressure, as some of the sensors in his libs get turned off, particularly pain. It was an odd feeling, like functioning with local anaesthetics, feeling pressure, touch, temperature and weight, but not that amorphous sensation that lets you know how hand you can press without harming yourself. As the bridge began to lower itself he would rush ahead feeling his carbon-based muscle fibres brush against one another, the joints straining and the bones threatening to bend and break at the sudden assault of speed and strength, arms swinging wide and freely, the axe blade arching right towards the elongated head of one of the strange alien creatures. He barely felt the impact, the blade going through with the same perceived ease as a bulldozer going through a solid building, the dome no doubt cracking as pressurized yellow and green blood sprayed across the weapon and his right arm. He thankfully couldn't feel pain, but the sudden surge of heat alerted him to the acidic properties of these creatures, and how bad of an idea melee was in regards to them.

As such he accelerated through he ramp and leapt as far and as high as he could go, the roaring wind rushing past him also helping in removing the blood from his arm before it reached the very core, but not before it renders it virtually useless. That was a bummer. With the limits off he could probably survive the fall, but his limbs would take a heavy hit, and the area bellow was warming with the beasties. This drastic situation is thankfully solved for him as the Arrow rearranged itself bellow him, allowing him to manoeuvrer himself back into the vessel, hooting and crumpling across the floor before slamming with his back against the airlock wall, his headphones being knocked off his head and resting against his neck, music still blaring loudly from it.

Groaning, he would release his weapons, the axe eaten halfway through and his right arm barely responsive, covered in an erratic acid burn, something surprising given the materials used. His left hand would reach for his gas mask and lower it down, allowing him to place his electric cigarette upon his lips, turning it on with an electric jolt from his lighter before finally tapping the headset, the music going silent as he switched to comms.

"Seeker, buddy...Next time you decide to vent the cargo bay while mid-air...give me a heads up?" He added humorously as he took a drag from the metallic cylinder "We are going to need to go shopping after this...that was all my stuff. Also I request permission to solder the next fridge, bed and lockers to the actual floor and walls. Ya know, to prevent drastic loss of much needed booze..."