In the darkness, a pair of clouded grey eyes fluttered open. A low groan echoed flatly through the silent cockpit as its sole occupant slowly regained consciousness.
It took more than a few moments for Obi-Wan Kenobi to piece together his jumbled memories and replay what had happened: When the ship lost power, he'd sent a quick panic-stricken message to his Master, "Brace yourself, we're going in hard!"
While falling like a brick through the planet's dense atmosphere, he had managed (by will of the Force or just sheer dumb-luck) to maneuver the ship towards a very small clearing, which just so happened to be a rather grandiose swamp. As crash landings go, you really couldn't ask for a softer touchdown. Not that the landing was soft, it was anything but. But being alive was never something Obi-Wan was prone to complain about, and he wasn't about to start now.
Unstrapping himself from the pilot's chair and using the Force to relieve the tension and bruises throughout his aching body, Obi-Wan drew himself up and went to collect what was left of his Master from the next room. What he saw when he passed through the doorway made his heart come to a complete stop. Qui-Gon hadn't managed to strap himself in. He was crumpled face-up on the floor next to the closet, one leg twisted at an odd angle in the blankets atop the sleep couch. On the side of his face nearest the cabinet, a dark sticky patch was slowly drying to the point of being tacky.
He immediately felt light-headed and had to shake his head to think clearly. "Oh, Qui-Gon!" The Padawan shouted in his mind, "What have I done!"
With a cough, the younger Jedi knelt down by his Master and used the sleeve of his tunic to try and clear away some of the blood. He succeeded only in making a bigger mess. The sight was beginning to make him feel queasy. No...he had never been one to look away from anything grotesque, why should this be affecting him so now?
With another cough and shake of his head, he glanced around the small living space. When his vision started to cloud, he paused and cocked his head. It was hard to concentrate on anything with this constant ringing in his ears. No, not ringing...hissing. "That's odd," he thought to himself. "Why would my ears be hissing?"
Like the screech of a mynock, an alarm went off in his head and a sudden realization hit him: a gas leak, he needed to get Qui-Gon out of there. Coughing again, Obi-Wan wasted no time in hoisting his unconscious Master over his shoulder and abandoning the room. The kitchenette was not much better, and with no power to the transport, there was no real way to seal the doorway between each of the ship's compartments, which meant they were going to have to brave the planet's native hospitality.
Balancing Qui-Gon precariously on one of the chairs in the kitchenette, Obi-Wan quickly grabbed several blankets, opened the top-hatch exit up a short ladder (the main entrance - in the cockpit - was half underwater) and hoisted himself out the top of the ship.
The young Padawan noticed immediately how the fresh air sharpened his focus and quieted the tickle in his throat as he Force-lifted his Master out from below and again draped the large man over his shoulder and plopped the blankets across his backside.
Obi-Wan gave the crash site a once-over: they were relatively near the shore, if that's what you could call it. The ground - only a few meters away from the half-submerged ship - looked like a soggy tangle of roots and muck. There was not much else to see, aside from the shore, as everything seemed to be enveloped in a suffocating fog.
One thing was for certain, this was definitely going to be a test of his patience.