Eckhard allowed himself a brief moment just to stand there, panting, in the aftermath of the chaos. Glenn's orders seemed to come from far away, penetrating the sloughing insulation of the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The monk wrenched his gaze away from the foredeck, skittering across the blood-slick deck to retrieve his pack. There might not be much time, but he would be next to useless as a colonist without his tools, and he doubted he could bare the shame of becoming another unskilled mouth to feed instead of a hopefully valued member of the community they were there to build.