The Officer {Orson Krennic X Reader}

IX. (NAME)!!!!

Congratulations! I named a chapter after you!

New term:
(She/he)/(her/him) = Pronoun of your choice (this refers to all terms, not just she/her or he/him. I will try to just use "they/them" as a general term but sometimes it's hard to dodge around sexuality terms without making it seem like I'm referring to multiple people rather than just the reader).
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Krennic's P.O.V.

I hit the ground hard, (Name's) body weight knocking the air clean from my lungs. My ears feel like they're being ripped apart from the explosion. I can feel the blazing heat off every square centimeter of my skin. The exposed parts of body are being pelted with shrapnels of what I believe is metal. But my own safety is no longer my first instinct. Upon striking the ground, I wrap my arms around (Name) and use my hands to try and cover their head. My gloves are useless against the heat. My skin feels like it's going to be burned off. I could hear the engine falling, shattering into millions of pieces. 'We're gonna die,' I thought.

The explosion probably lasted only a few moments. But it felt like years. The thunderous claps of the engine pieces smashing one another shakes me to the core. I'm too afraid to open my eyes. I can only silently pray that I'll make it out of here alive. Then something falls awfully close to my head and everything goes quiet. My ears feel numb. I can still hear faint sounds of the explosion but it's mainly blocked out by the painful ringing in my head.

When I hear no more blurred sounds, the ground stops shaking from the vibrations of heavy pieces falling, and bolts and screws no longer pierce my skin, I open my eyes. I'm dizzy and I can't really recall what just happened. It's pitch black. Am I dead? Then the numbness in my body ebbs away and I can feel pieces of metal penetrating me. I grit my teeth, keeping myself from screaming like I'm being murdered.

I feel something on top of me. What am I trapped under? I caress it with my hand. It's... soft. So I gently poke it. Soft and squishy. Wait... this is an extension of the soft and squishy thing... reekshite! It's (Name)! "(Name)? (Name)!" Shit, is (she/he) dead? No, I can feel their chest slightly digging against my chest when they breathe.

I gingerly move my hands around as far as they'll reach. How much space do we have? Are we trapped or can we get out? When I determine we have enough room to move a little, I roll (Name) off me and take off my gloves. I start plucking some of the shrapnels out of my skin, especially around the more sensitive areas like my eyes. I then think of doing the same thing to (Name). Are my hands are covered in blood? If they aren't, I can remove the shrapnels from them and check for any major injuries. I test my hands by placing the backs of them against my neck. I can feel a thick watery sensation on my neck. Dammit.

I need some light. I feel around my belt for anything but the only thing I have is my blaster and extra charges for my blaster. Wait, doesn't (Name) have some sort of light on their belt to help them see in dark cavities inside control panels? I test one of my fingers in my mouth for any blood. Nothing. I reach over and carefully trace (Name)'s side with that finger until I find their belt. Then I blindly search for the light. Do I know what it looks like? No. But it's probably a flashlight shape.

When I can't find it, I start pulling out objects from the belt. This is ridiculous. I feel like I'm invading (Name)'s personal space. I grope for the light a little longer but the only thing (she/he) seems to have on them is a heavy wrench and their blaster.

I rock myself to a sitting position and rest my chin on my knees as I think. There's no way I can cut through the metal. Shooting a blaster shot in this confined area will tear both out eardrums apart. 'We're going to die in here,' I thought. 'We'll die from lack of proper nutrition and water. Although, I think we'll die from lack of oxygen first.'

Oxygen. I feel my stomach twist. I might be able to conserve the oxygen a little longer by shallowly breathing, but (Name) is unconscious and is breathing deeply. I need to find a way to circulate the air in here. I slide my hands around on the ground, searching for the objects I've strewn until I find the heavy wrench. Then I stand-WHACK!! "OW!!" I yell and fall back to my knees. The area is too low for me to stand so I guess I'm crawling around.

I crawl until I find a hunk of metal, which I believe is the border of our engine prison. I follow it, feeling for seams or metal fragments I could break apart. I do find a seam and trace the edge until I can feel a bolt. Then I attempt to unscrew the piece. It's stuck fast and I unsuccessful. So I whack the seam a few times with my foot and then the wrench. Nothing happens and I think I may have broken the wrench because the weight feels different and something clanged loudly next to me.

I groan and mutter some curse words. I wish I knew what was happening. I wish I could see. But I don't have a single clue about what's happening. I continue searching for a way out. If there was, I probably missed it because I just tripped on (Name).

I sigh and lay down next to (Name). I really hope (she/he) isn't bleeding out and I don't know about it. Testing my finger again for blood, I place it on their chest and feel for breathing. Thankful, I can feel the familiar rising and falling motion. But it's weak, and that's never a good sign.

I feel around for any pooling blood from (Name). When I don't feel anything, I lay down next to them. 'We're going to die,' I thought. Why do I keep thinking that? Why can't I have the mindset to continue fighting for our lives?

I then realize how tired I am. My eyes feel heavy and I want to close them, but the fear of dying in my sleep forces me to stay awake. The air is growing thin and my breaths are starting to grow shallower and shallower.

I could try again. I could try to find a way out. I don't want to die and I don't want (Name) to die. I force my aching muscles to move my body. This time, I try breaking the walls every half meter by throwing my weight around. It's a taxing task, and the lack of oxygen isn't making it easier.

My head is spinning. I hope (Name) isn't dead yet. I measure out the next half meter and ram my shoulder into the wall. To my surprise, it moves and I slip and fall. The outside light blinds me and it takes me a moment to realize what just happened.

Light! Air! I don't think I've felt more overjoyed to see and feel those two things. With the bit of light seeping in, I see (Name)'s outline. I crawl over to them and drag them to the light where I can see them. They're not bleeding badly. But if by anything, it will be the infection from the burns on the back of their arms that will kill them. I check (Name) for breathing again, before collapsing next to them, gasping for breath.

Sleep was coming on stronger than ever and as much as I tried to fight it, my body couldn't handle the task. 'Maybe there's a chance,' I thought as I drifted into unconsciousness. 'Maybe we'll make it out alive.'
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Will you and Krennic make it out alive? We shall find out!

Heads up, y'all. This is probably nothing new to you, but there has been a few trollers hanging around my account telling me and a few of my followers/people I follow quite a few nasty comments about our writing and lives in general. If they ever come after you, I'm more than willing to speak to them and try to get them off your tail. And I'm here for any support should you need it. Comment or Message me if you need support or just want to talk.

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