Kyp Durron knew the moment he woke up that something was wrong.
He sat up in bed, trying to pinpoint the nagging dread.
It was elusive, attacking him in swells, then fading until it was little more than a lingering sense of dread.
He stood and grabbed the charcoal grey tunic off the chair that sat beside his bed, pulling it over his head as he staggered to the kitchen to turn the caffeine pot on.
The small orange light on the bottom of the pot came on to tell him it was working.
Kyp just stared at it for a moment, blinking sleepily as he attempted to wake up. He ran a hand over his face, wincing at the rough stubble. If he didn't shave soon, he was going to end up looking like Jacen Solo had after his surprise return from Yuuzhanat'ar.
He yawned widely and pulled a mug out of the cabinet. He set it on the kitchenette counter and glanced at the chronometer.
0700.
He scowled and rubbed his eyes again, wanting only to fall back in bed and sleep until noon.
The caffeine pot beeped, telling him it was done.
He pushed away from the counter and pulled the kettle off the hot plate under it, grabbing his mug and pouring the steaming liquid into it.
He turned and walked to the refrigerator unit to get cream.
He suddenly froze as if he'd walked into a force field, the caffeine mug slipping through his fingers and shattering on the floor.
He stood still for a moment, gasping for breath, something inside of him screaming as he fought the terror and despair clawing at his insides.
He never remembered grabbing his lightsaber or pulling the door open, but somehow, he ended up running down the hall, his extinguished blade in his hands. He wasn't sure how he knew where to go, but it was like something was dragging him by a hook buried deep in his chest.
"Jaina!" he yelled, shoving the hangar door open and running to her x-wing.
He could feel her weakly try to reach out to him, the raw fear gnawing frantically for a way out of him turning into relief so deep it almost brought tears to his eyes.
I thought I told you not to follow me, Durron. His heart raced at how weak the words were as he grabbed a fusion cutter and a crowbar.
Yeah, well, he attempted to keep the fear out of the scoffing, you oughta know by now, Goddess, that I don't take orders very well.
She made no reply, and he could feel her fading even more.
He beat at the side pane of the canopy with the crowbar, desperation fueling him.
"Don't give up, Jaina!" he shouted at her as he continued to swing at the hatch. It worried him that as soon as the pane gave way, there was nothing keeping him from hitting her head.
It didn't matter. He could feel her slipping away.
"No!" he smacked he transparasteel with his open palm. "Wake up and look at me! Don't you dare quit on my watch!" he finally called his lightsaber to his hand, knowing grimly the risk in plunging the blade through the glass.
When faced with her eminent death, he knew it was one he had to take.
He jammed the tip through the canopy where the transparasteel met the durasteel frame and twisted the handle, dragging the blade around the frame in a glowing arc.
The molten piece of transparasteel fell inward, a billow of smoke blowing through the gaping hole.
Kyp leaned into the overheated cockpit and gently lifted Jaina out, dusting shards of oxide-coated glass off of her.
"Jaina, he held her close, pushing a damp strand of hair out of her face. "Come on, sweetheart, wake up and slap me or something."
He already knew it was going to take a lot more than his begging to bring her back.
For the first time in his life, Kyp Durron found himself praying for a miracle.
She was no longer breathing.