Standard Disclaimer: Neither Star Wars nor Knights of the Old Republic
belong to me. All are George Lucas' and Lucas arts, etc. The only thing I'm
claiming is the impressions of the main characters and, in later chapters,
the A/U plot. Which, believe me, isn't all that original to get all
bothered about.
"Things Left Behind" is a Sequel to "Unbalanced" and "There is no Peace but
Passion". They are only connected through time, one can definitely be read
without the other.
I wanted.
Things Left Behind Chapter 4 - Falling Farther
In my dreams I was falling - farther and farther from safety. Drowning in cold fear and misery, I was facing my death and could not do anything but scream.
Chill water crashed over my body and I gasped awake. Breathing in the water, I choked and thrashed. My eyes opened to stinging salt and all I could see was red halos and blurs.
In my reality, we were falling - farther and farther down from the surface of the ocean that surrounded us. And as water poured in through the breached hull in spurts, fits and gushes, I was facing my death. And I couldn't even scream.
I convulsed, body jerking as my body tried to purge the water from my lungs in violent coughing. But I couldn't move, held tightly, bruisingly, in place to the chair. There! Air to my right! My neck strained and I fought for breath. Air, then water. It was rising too quickly. I thrashed, hands desperately reaching for the catch on the safety harness. It released, first grudgingly then whisking back. I didn't know which way was really up. Which way the air was. My vision was dotting now, lungs betrayed and making that pain known. But luck, or the Force, was with me. I'd instinctively assumed my back was against the bottom. So I thrashed upwards and found air. The rush of water, the groan of the hull and the blare of alarms all threaten to drown out my salt stained wheezes as I tried to stay afloat.
And for a moment that lasted much too long I had no idea where anything was. Granted, I knew where I was. In the escape ship. And the water kind of led me to believe we were in the ocean of that unnamed world. And the rate it was pouring in and the sensation of falling was pretty good testimony to the fact that we were, indeed, falling deeper. It was very dark. The red emergency lights could not hold much ground against it.
We were already very deep.
But still, even knowing these things, orientating myself after the waking, nearly drowning and passing out, didn't come easily. The ship was falling thrusters first, backwards into the water. I grabbed for my chair again and planted my feet on it. There, above water without treading. My hand reached out for the nearby console, steadying my unsteady balance. The water was up to my knees. I looked up. The pilot's chair was perhaps four feet above me. Its back was high and I could see nothing of the pilot himself.
"Carth!" I yelled, voice a croaking harsh thing. He didn't answer me.
But there was time. For him. Too deep. Could we even hold our breath long enough to reach the surface? Would we kill ourselves with a rapid ascent? Then, we couldn't ascend rapidly; we'd have to do it slowly. But, we couldn't hold our breaths. There had to be EV suits in here. Somewhere. I looked up towards the chair. Still some time before the water reached him. A few minutes before he'd be in even worse danger.
There were lockers. Equipment lockers to the back. They were well below the current water line, however. I took a deep breath and stepped off of the chair. I took a deep breath and tried not to panic. I couldn't see, there was nothing too see. My hands reached out and sought familiar metal shapes. There. Lockers.
Locked.
I began to panic. I drew my light saber, feet knocking against the wall and accidentally pushing me back. Damnit! I wanted to breathe again. I wanted out of this. I wanted. I forced myself to calm down. No chaos - only peace. Only peace. Only peace.
With a gentle push of my thumb the light saber was brought to life. And in that floating sensory muffled world I made a precise cut, turned it off, and re-hooked it to my belt. I reached for the suits inside the locker. My fingers and common sense told me they were not meant for the ocean, but for space. It would do. It would be air. And if we were going to be crushed by the pressure, then the first indicator would likely be the hull smashing us in before we could be facing the ocean on our own.
The suits were heavy.
Levitation was easy.
I surfaced and opened my eyes. The console by my chair was still... yes. It was still out of the water. Or at least part of its surface was. I raised my hand and the suits, resting them there. It was tiring. I shuddered and then focused again. I wobbled as I moved, half supported by the force, half climbing the walls. I could prop myself up along the console too. It wasn't going to be easy to dress Carth quickly, but as long as I didn't drop anything.
It went against everything I felt, everything I believed. But I decided to get into my suit, quickly. I couldn't help him if I was dead, or without air, should things go badly. I sat along the console, head bumping the pilot's chair, and tried to figure out how this version of an EV suit worked while the ocean claimed another set of lights. I pulled the helmet on last, claustrophobia making me breath harder, faster. Alright, ready. I didn't want to over balance the pilot's chair and sent him spinning, so I braced myself against the sidewall and stood. My hand reached out for the chair now bathed in the light from my suit.
It was empty.
I couldn't move. Water gurgled over my feet and I looked down. He hadn't been strapped in. I remembered that, now. He hadn't been strapped in. When we crashed he would have fallen back. back into the aft of the ship.. It had been .. Longer than I could hold my breath. Longer than I could remain conscious . It .. He .
I was moving to jump, to go into the grease stained waters again to find him, when the ship jolted, violently. The ocean floor had finally met our hull. Joints and plates that had been holding together were set askew and the small cabin finally gave up all pretense of structural integrity. The rush of water effectively burst the ship apart.
I was thrown, pummeled, spun, and backhanded away, and everything that wasn't bolted down in the ship forced in the tide along with me.
I still did not see him.
Things Left Behind Chapter 4 - Falling Farther
In my dreams I was falling - farther and farther from safety. Drowning in cold fear and misery, I was facing my death and could not do anything but scream.
Chill water crashed over my body and I gasped awake. Breathing in the water, I choked and thrashed. My eyes opened to stinging salt and all I could see was red halos and blurs.
In my reality, we were falling - farther and farther down from the surface of the ocean that surrounded us. And as water poured in through the breached hull in spurts, fits and gushes, I was facing my death. And I couldn't even scream.
I convulsed, body jerking as my body tried to purge the water from my lungs in violent coughing. But I couldn't move, held tightly, bruisingly, in place to the chair. There! Air to my right! My neck strained and I fought for breath. Air, then water. It was rising too quickly. I thrashed, hands desperately reaching for the catch on the safety harness. It released, first grudgingly then whisking back. I didn't know which way was really up. Which way the air was. My vision was dotting now, lungs betrayed and making that pain known. But luck, or the Force, was with me. I'd instinctively assumed my back was against the bottom. So I thrashed upwards and found air. The rush of water, the groan of the hull and the blare of alarms all threaten to drown out my salt stained wheezes as I tried to stay afloat.
And for a moment that lasted much too long I had no idea where anything was. Granted, I knew where I was. In the escape ship. And the water kind of led me to believe we were in the ocean of that unnamed world. And the rate it was pouring in and the sensation of falling was pretty good testimony to the fact that we were, indeed, falling deeper. It was very dark. The red emergency lights could not hold much ground against it.
We were already very deep.
But still, even knowing these things, orientating myself after the waking, nearly drowning and passing out, didn't come easily. The ship was falling thrusters first, backwards into the water. I grabbed for my chair again and planted my feet on it. There, above water without treading. My hand reached out for the nearby console, steadying my unsteady balance. The water was up to my knees. I looked up. The pilot's chair was perhaps four feet above me. Its back was high and I could see nothing of the pilot himself.
"Carth!" I yelled, voice a croaking harsh thing. He didn't answer me.
But there was time. For him. Too deep. Could we even hold our breath long enough to reach the surface? Would we kill ourselves with a rapid ascent? Then, we couldn't ascend rapidly; we'd have to do it slowly. But, we couldn't hold our breaths. There had to be EV suits in here. Somewhere. I looked up towards the chair. Still some time before the water reached him. A few minutes before he'd be in even worse danger.
There were lockers. Equipment lockers to the back. They were well below the current water line, however. I took a deep breath and stepped off of the chair. I took a deep breath and tried not to panic. I couldn't see, there was nothing too see. My hands reached out and sought familiar metal shapes. There. Lockers.
Locked.
I began to panic. I drew my light saber, feet knocking against the wall and accidentally pushing me back. Damnit! I wanted to breathe again. I wanted out of this. I wanted. I forced myself to calm down. No chaos - only peace. Only peace. Only peace.
With a gentle push of my thumb the light saber was brought to life. And in that floating sensory muffled world I made a precise cut, turned it off, and re-hooked it to my belt. I reached for the suits inside the locker. My fingers and common sense told me they were not meant for the ocean, but for space. It would do. It would be air. And if we were going to be crushed by the pressure, then the first indicator would likely be the hull smashing us in before we could be facing the ocean on our own.
The suits were heavy.
Levitation was easy.
I surfaced and opened my eyes. The console by my chair was still... yes. It was still out of the water. Or at least part of its surface was. I raised my hand and the suits, resting them there. It was tiring. I shuddered and then focused again. I wobbled as I moved, half supported by the force, half climbing the walls. I could prop myself up along the console too. It wasn't going to be easy to dress Carth quickly, but as long as I didn't drop anything.
It went against everything I felt, everything I believed. But I decided to get into my suit, quickly. I couldn't help him if I was dead, or without air, should things go badly. I sat along the console, head bumping the pilot's chair, and tried to figure out how this version of an EV suit worked while the ocean claimed another set of lights. I pulled the helmet on last, claustrophobia making me breath harder, faster. Alright, ready. I didn't want to over balance the pilot's chair and sent him spinning, so I braced myself against the sidewall and stood. My hand reached out for the chair now bathed in the light from my suit.
It was empty.
I couldn't move. Water gurgled over my feet and I looked down. He hadn't been strapped in. I remembered that, now. He hadn't been strapped in. When we crashed he would have fallen back. back into the aft of the ship.. It had been .. Longer than I could hold my breath. Longer than I could remain conscious . It .. He .
I was moving to jump, to go into the grease stained waters again to find him, when the ship jolted, violently. The ocean floor had finally met our hull. Joints and plates that had been holding together were set askew and the small cabin finally gave up all pretense of structural integrity. The rush of water effectively burst the ship apart.
I was thrown, pummeled, spun, and backhanded away, and everything that wasn't bolted down in the ship forced in the tide along with me.
I still did not see him.