Story: Descent
Alerts rang across the ship in their clamor for attention, as the crew ran helter skelter attempting to extinguish the electrical fires. The ship continued in its sweeping, uncontrolled descent over Ilum. Its Captain, a young Imperial Officer recently promoted to the position, took off her cap to put some stray hairs back into their place, as if to maintain some semblance of order.
As chaos reigned across the small passenger vessel, its one item of precious cargo remained in complete calm. The Padawan held in his detention cell kept to his meditation as the occasional well-dressed crewman ran into the cargo hold to fetch some sort of extinguishing device or tool. The zabrak’s Master had been captured by these individuals and taken to Ilum some months ago; the Padawan felt his Master’s life force drawing dim. He drew on The Force to maintain Peace in this mayhem, to ease his own mind.
On the bridge, the Captain watched as the ship broke atmosphere. The controls were worthless, having been among the first to lose their usefulness. She gripped the edge of the closest chair, watching as the viewscreen went dark. She barked futile orders to a panicked crew, who did nothing. They stood rigid in terror. There was nothing else to do.
The alarms and alerts seemed to decrease in urgency as the ship’s hull shuddered around the Padawan’s ray shielded cell. The red and yellow lights of distress ceased altogether as the cargo hold began its final death throes.
“Master?” the Padawan asked, “What shall I do?”
And a voice, guiding from beyond the clouds of the Ilum atmosphere answered, “Breathe.”