Huge thanks to Amaryllis Complex for giving me the prompts and support that got this story going, and to Impoeia and Ms CT-782 for the support and for convincing me that this story needed to be told.

Disney owns the Star Wars franchise, I just go and meddle with it for kicks.

Prologue

.

This is how it happened.

Fearless is burning. Sparked off when an out-of-control fighter slammed into the deck, fires have broken out in the hangar and are raging unchecked. No one can get in touch with the bridge, not since those droid boarding vessels slammed into our hull, and somehow I end up being the most senior officer to hand.

"Lieutenant, what are your orders?" the engineer asks me. I've been cornered outside the hangar and given an impossible choice by this man—vent the hangar or risk losing the ship. With the fires, no fighters can launch and we're dead meat unless we can get our pilots out there. But there are still crews inside the hangar, fighting the flames as best they can.

"Get those men out first," I say.

He shakes his head. "There's no time."

I rack my brain for alternatives, but nothing comes up. I can feel the weight of all those lives settling around my neck. "Seal the section then vent it," I order him.

He swallows, but I can see the relief in his eyes as he starts tapping away at the console. He's just following orders now, rather than making the call.

The blast door behind us starts to close and then stops. It's jammed. We're in a section of corridor that leads directly to the hangar. There won't be anything protecting us when the vent happens.

I look at him and he shakes his head. I wish for my armour; at least then I'd have ten minutes of air. My greys offer no such protection against the black.

"Vent the bloody section," I say.

He pushes a button. I know that in the hangar, klaxons are going off, the deflector shields are dropping and the atmosphere is rushing out in a huge blast of air and fire, taking anything not nailed down with it. I know this because the temperature drops just as that same gust catches me and the engineer up, sucking us out into the black.

I remember to exhale. Lights are flashing out in the black. I can feel the saliva start to boil on my tongue.

I must be seeing double. Or maybe it's triple. For whatever reason, there are now three ships out here. I can't help but think that it would be nice to breathe about now. And there's a fighter coming right at me…

Great.

Soundtrack/prompt for this was: 'PotatOS Lament' from Portal 2.