Mikhail was still, and bloodied. But he was not dead.
He wore an oddly thick flight suit for a reason: It was made to withstand small arms fire. He was not dead, but he was hurt badly. But his injuries were not enough to stop his rage.
He was being dragged out of the room to be disposed off out of a nearby airlock. When he was out of sight of the offices, he quickly turned on the man dragging him, a large and powerful fist knocking him down, and dazing him- Just enough for Mikhail to begin running for his ship.
A trail of blood followed him, several holes in his suit seeping with it. He had mere minutes to patch himself up, if he even made it to his ship. But something was odd. There were no alarms sounding his escape, and no guards rushing after him. He looked into the hangar, and saw that it was just the normal crew operating in there.
Perhaps he knocked out the man dragging him. Maybe his luck has returned. Mikhail didn't know, but he hurried to his Crow, and immediately began flight procedures. Within thirty seconds, he was departing the Destroyer. His weapons were deactivated- All of the power was being diverted to his shielding, engines, and maneuvering thrusters. He punched his cruise engines, made sure his Countermeasure system was operational, and he fled the area.
His adrenaline had subsided, his anger slowly leaving him. Now he could feel the full effect of his injuries.
