I really need to work on the stories I have for Mass Effect that have actual chapters and stuff but I really like writing these little pieces.
She could laugh if there was air to do so. If she had a voice. A breath to waste. The blackout was creeping up on her. Slower than the air leaking out of her suit. There was something ironic in it. In knowing she was dying. In knowing space was taking her and not some bullet wound. Not some charging Krogan. Not some Asari commando's throw. Not Batarian, not Vorcha, not Geth, not a stupid thresher maw. Space was taking her. The planet below would be her grave. At least for the parts left over. But space was taking her. She could laugh, if only there was air to do so. With everything in the universe after her ass, it was Space that finally got her.
She stopped struggling a while ago. Trying to calm her breathing, hearing the air hissing out. It was hard. It was every spacers fear. The air lock joke was a joke but no one wanted to die out here. It was cold and empty. But Gods was it beautiful. Her back to the planet. Even with the pieces of the Normandy falling around her. All the stars. The brightness. All her life in space and it took her death to really see it. Finally. Beautifully. The irony of it all pulled tears from her eyes against her will. They floated off her face, blocking her vision. She couldn't move to shake them away. The stars blurred behind her them. The pieces of the Normandy, fell behind her, streaked with her tears. The sound of the air escaping was silenced. The blurriness of her vision now wasn't just due to the tears. She would have laughed. She hoped someone would. The spacer got spaced. The spacer that had made a name as a solider, a commander even, got spaced.
It was quiet. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Things were never quiet. There was always the hum of the ship. The hum of voices too low to hear. No corner to turn without someone there. She decided that she didn't like the quiet. Not this quiet. Even the rushing of her blood had stopped. She was sure her chest was no longer moving as well. No movement. The Normandy hung still around her. A moment frozen. The stars were slowly eaten by the darkness closing her vision off. At least she wouldn't feel entering the planet's atmosphere. This should have been the moment she felt anger, betrayal, something. Screaming at the universe that this wasn't fair. There was none of that. No emotion. Just stillness. No flashbacks. No regrets. If anything she was relaxed, stretched out, unmoving over a planet she didn't know.
She'd laugh. If her vision wasn't dark and the stillness hadn't turned into a forceful pull downward. She'd laugh. But there was no longer the air to do so, no longer the will. Parts of the best ship in the galaxy shrieked past her body, in the vacuum of silence. She was hit. Once, twice, twisting her, turning her, sending her tumbling down with the pull. She was going down with her ship.
Space had taken her. The planet below would be her grave. For a brief moment she would have peace, a rest. And the universe laughed for her.