Nothing

[Cptn Corizon 0]

It all happened so quickly, in the blink of an eye, the flash of a light, Corizon’s greatest fear had been realized. He closed his eyes. Flash. Boom.

 

Moments later he found himself on the other side of a sheer rock wall, laying upon the ground a large rock against his leg, bone protruding. He tried to move, but it was to no avail. He glanced over, looking for his crew. Nothing.

 

Reaching for his combadge he pressed it, waiting for the familiar beep. Nothing. Their must be some sort of dampening field in place, he thought to himself. He sighed. Death it seemed was breathing down upon his neck. In all likelihood, the others were dead—and in three hours—the Ardent would be gone.

 

Corizon had faced death before many times. He’d fought in many battles, he’d lead troops into the face of death—but this was somehow different. It wasn’t like the destruction of a ship. No, then you were vaporized into a thousand little pieces. Scattered through out the galactic space dust. But this…this could be agonizingly long and painful. He’d likely bleed to death—or starve—to death.

 

It wasn’t the pain of the broken leg; a long time ago he’d developed the ability to channel his pain, to make it less severe. No it wasn’t the broken leg. He looked down at it. Just below the knee, his pant leg bloody and wet. He sat up for the first time, his head spinning. He’d have to be more careful about that in the future. From what he could tell, the blood wasn’t shooting out anymore...he gulped—starvation.

 

There were few ways Corizon could imagine to die that would be more agonizing than being trapped with a large rock on your leg and no food without chance of rescue. He took a long breath, he’d need to recover his strength before he attempted to move that blasted rock. But he couldn’t go to sleep, he knew all to well how dangerous that could be in this situation.