Missing and Presumed Dead

Selfless

It was the worst night of his life.

As predicted, the Creature methodically worked on prying the hull apart. The groaning of the metal shook him to his core, and when it let out a horrible, bone-chattering screech he knew it had pried it open just a bit more. Then that was usually accompanied by the sound of claws dragging themselves across the floor as it tried to tunnel in.

But at least it wasn't tossing the ship around like the last time. Still, Luke felt like he was waiting inside a huge chew toy, and he was the juicy reward for tearing it to shreds.

He'd dragged himself as far into the corner as he could. His broken leg stretched out before him while his other was pulled to his chest and he'd unslung his left arm so that he could cover his mouth and nose. Hopefully, it would stifle the sound of his breathing.

He didn't know if it would help, but it made him feel like he had more control over the situation than he did, so he kept at it and ignored the ache in his shoulder.

The claw marks had largely stopped bleeding. He kept his good hand pressed tightly over it just in case. He didn't dare move to check how deep they were, but that had to be a good sign, right?

He was going with yes.

It seemed to last an eternity. Multiple times, he glanced at the nearby ladder leading into the cargo hold and considered retreating further but considering how difficult it had been to get up the stairs the one and only time he'd attempted it, he quickly pushed that idea away.

Only if necessary, he thought.

He doubted it would do much to protect him if the Creature got that far in.

Unfortunately, more shrieking of metal made him reach up to cover his ears, and a split second later he watched a clawed fur foot reach into the hallway ahead of him.

He didn't dare breathe as he watched those claws dig into the floor and pull, tearing gouges.

This was it.

It was necessary. The thing was too close; he could smell its foul breath. It wouldn't be long until it moved to tear his hallway open.

He needed to move.

Moving as quietly as possible, he pushed himself to the hatch, staring into the dark abyss below. This was a bad idea. He knew that. But the creature gnawing on the ship spurred him to carefully grab hold of the ladder and move his good foot onto the lowest rung he could reach.

Curse his short stature.

He slowly, painfully lowered himself into the darkness, praying he was quiet enough. But, all too soon, he realized going down would be much harder than going up, especially with no light and no Force to guide him.

He'd need to trust that he was lucky enough to find the next rung.

On the count of three, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut.

One...

More metal tore above.

Two...

The monster roared.

Th--

The ship violently rocked sideways. Air caught in his throat as his fingers slipped, and he was falling, falling...

Snap!

He screamed, his body seizing up. Dots blackened his vision, and he felt like his soul briefly detached from his body before slamming back in. Wave after agonizing wave rushed up his leg and through him and for one wild moment he wanted his lightsaber so he could cut it off and be done with the pain...