Chapter Text
Ahsoka knows they're crashing.
The first clue is that the controls are gone. Secondly, Anakin is swearing, and thirdly, Ahsoka has to clench her eyes closed to stop her breakfast from reappearing.
"Piece of shabla junk," Anakin hisses, his entire upper body buried under the console with his toolkit rattling beside him. A few more Huttese and Basic curses slip from his lips, "Keep her steady, Snips."
"I'm trying!" She grits her teeth, fighting to keep the rusty pile of bolts from flipping upside down as they spiral closer to the surface.
"Try harder." Anakin stands up, wiping grease off his forehead as he braces against her chair, "I don't have the N-84 servodriver to fix the console. How close are we from the surface?"
"Eight thousand feet," she replies, both curious and awe-struck at her calm her Master is whilst they are cutting through the atmosphere at lightning speed. It's a miracle they haven't combusted into a ball of flames yet. "There might be an N-84 in my satchel."
"Where's that?"
"Back cabin," she jumps as turbulence rocks the ship, nearly sending them careening down on a diagonal. She manages to stabilise the ship once more, "On the top shelf in the cupboard."
He claps her shoulder, "I'll be right back."
"Don't take too long," she mutters, half-serious and half-teasing. "We've got sixty seconds max until the ground hits us!"
She hears the door to the cockpit open as Anakin heads towards the back of the ship, "We'll catch fire well before we crash."
"Brilliant," she says, focusing on her flying as Anakin searches for the servodriver. She knew this ship would bring them bad luck, but Anakin insisted on buying it because he knew the owner of the shipyard.
Ahsoka checks the scanner- one of the only things on this ship that still works. Six thousand feet, five-and-a-half thousand feet, five thousand feet...
"Found it, Master?" She shouts, turning her head away from the viewpoint for less than second.
That's all it takes.
Another pocket of air hits their ship, and the next thing Ahsoka knows, she's upside down. The scream is quite literally ripped from her lungs, and she thanks the Force for safety restraints or else she would've been-
Anakin!
She tugs the control around, trying to pull the ship around so it's at least on its side instead of top-down.
"Kriff, kriff, kriff," she mutters, trying her hardest to slow the rust-bucket down, but all it does it pick up speed, "Master, I need help!"
All she hears from the back cabin is a groan- he must've hit his head when the ship turned upside down- and then a bang as the ship's nose hits the surface.
They hit the ground hard, parts of the ship exploding as they plummet into the planet's surface. Ahsoka's nearly on her head, the safety belts pulled to their limits, and all she can do is close her eyes and pray to the Force that they won't be left as a pile of ashes.
The spinning stops, and the emergency alarm begins- red lights flashing. As soon as she establishes that she hasn't got any massively open wounds or any major broken bones, Ahsoka unbuckles her safety restraints and falls- with the grace of a drunk gundark- to the floor.
To her surprise, the cockpit is mostly intact. Granted, the console is smoking and sparking, but only two of the three glass panes that make up the viewpoint have shattered, leaving her to see what's outside.
First things first. Ahsoka switches off the engine. If there's a fuel leak- which there probably is- then they can't have any type of ignition.
It's a lot of sand.
Just sand, sand, and more sand. Ahsoka allows herself to quietly groan. Of all the places to crash land, they had to be on a sand planet? Anakin will not like this.
Speaking of her Master...
Ahsoka staggers to her feet. It's a bit hard to become orientated- courtesy of the ship being on its side. The cockpit door splutters when she tries to open it, but it manages, and Ahsoka can just about crawl underneath.
The cabin has all but collapsed, the shelving units detached from their mounts and landing in a scattered heap. Blinking hard to fight off an impending headache, Ahsoka soon sees a head of scraggly, brown hair sticking out from underneath the bench.
She guesses the shipyard owner didn't even bother with safety checks before selling the ship to them, and Anakin was in too much of a hurry to do it himself.
Scurrying over the mess, Ahsoka starts pulling Anakin's shoulders so she can get a better look at him. It's clear he's unconscious, but her Master lets out a quiet groan when she shifts him onto her lap.
"Master? Anakin, can you hear me?" She demands, placing a hand on his forehead. There are a few bruises forming on his face, and the stickiness on her fingertips can only be blood.
Anakin moans, his eyes half-lidded. She can tell he's trying his hardest to wake up. "Snips...."
"Yeah, it's me," she sighs in relief that he can recognise her. "Anakin, does anything hurt?"
"Head..." He groans again, letting out a little cough, "Leg feels weird."
"Alright," Ahsoka looks to where his lower body is still tucked under the bench, pausing when she sees a dark liquid on the floor. "I'm gonna take a look at your leg, okay? Just bear with me."
Anakin lets out a little noise of acknowledgement whilst she puts his head back onto the floor. When she gets closer to his leg, she realises just how much blood is still flowing. Not good.
The metal leg of the bench is sticking into his thigh. Blood is oozing out of the gaping wound, coating everything in the thick, red substance. Ahsoka resists the urge to gag as the metallic smell assaults her nostrils.
If she ever sees that shipyard owner again, he'll have a lightsaber against his neck before he can say 'very cheap, good condition'.
Putting her frustration aside, Ahsoka takes a deep breath. She learnt long ago that panicking only makes these situations worse. Every time she gets injured, Anakin freaks out, which makes her panic as well. The medics- and Master Kenobi- have scolded Anakin for that several times, and Ahsoka intends to not pick up the bad habit.
Once she's collected, Ahsoka presses both hands to the wound, cupping the metal that's impaled his femur. Anakin isn't happy with the added pressure and lurches upwards, making a noise that's half-scream and half-sob, trying to push her hands away.
"Anakin, stay down! Master!" Ahsoka keeps her hands in place, pinning her lucid Master with a glare worthy of Mace Windu, "I need to stop the bleeding!"
"No, no! Hurts! Hurts, Soka!" Anakin still fights her, grasping at her shoulders hard enough to bruise. Ahsoka doesn't budge her grip on his leg, her panic rising as his sudden movement causes the bleeding to increase.
"Anakin." She snaps, managing to get his eyes on hers, "You're bleeding. Don't fight me, please!"
Whether it's her stern tone or the agonising pain, Anakin’s fighting grip on her slackens. Ahsoka turns her attention back to maintaining pressure on his thigh, trying to block out his whimpers.
She needs to make sure he doesn't bleed out. This ship probably doesn't have a medkit, and the ones that she and Anakin carry on their belts aren't equipped to deal with these types of injuries. He needs a medic.
Thankfully, they have some signal, and Obi-Wan picks up less than a second after Ahsoka dials his frequency.
"Ahsoka?"
"Master Kenobi," she sounds far too relieved, "We've had a bit of a problem."
There's an audible sigh from the end of the line, "Where have you crashed?" He knows them too well.
"I'm not completely sure," she winces, "It's a sand planet, somewhere between the Batonn and Nuiri Sectors."
There's some muffled conversation before Obi-Wan answers, "Cody says he's got a lock on your coordinates, but you're not exactly close by. How long can you hold out?" There's a distinct pause, "Are you both alright?"
Ahsoka chews her lip, glancing at Anakin's pale face. His eyes are closed, and if it weren't for the slight part of his mouth, she would be panicking. The bleeding isn't slowing down either.
"Anakin's in pretty bad shape." She admits, knowing Obi-Wan will understand the severity of the situation instantly, "His leg's bleeding- it’s not great."
Another sigh, "Alright, Ahsoka, just... hold on until we get to you. Try to slow the bleeding and keep him awake."
"Yes, Master," Ahsoka nods, even though Obi-Wan can't see her.
"We'll be as fast as we can, little one. Call me if anything changes."
He means, call if Anakin stops breathing or goes into shock, but he doesn't need to say that out loud.
"We'll be waiting, Master."
"May the Force be with you. Kenobi out."
The commlink beeps to signify the end of the call. Ahsoka lets some of the weight lift off her shoulders, knowing Obi-Wan is on his way to help them. Whether it takes him minutes or hours, she still needs to keep Anakin alive until the medics can treat him.
"Hey," she lifts her eyes to where Anakin has the N-84 servodriver clutched in his hand, "found it."
"You did," she smiles, although his eyes are still closed, "I don't know why you were looking under the bench for it." Anakin's lips twitch in response, his sluggish brain trying to find a smart retort. "Obi-Wan and Cody are on their way."
"Brilliant," Anakin grumbles sarcastically, "I get to hear the whole lecture about reckless spending."
"You deserve it." She teases back, inwardly relieved that he's speaking in coherent sentences. That's a good sign, and his speech will be a good measure of how he's doing without a medical scanner. "How do you feel?"
"Not my finest." Anakin peeps open one eyes, lifts his head just enough to look at her, "Unless you can find a tourniquet, you'll need to use my belt on my leg."
"I'd rather not," Ahsoka risks another glance at the bleeding wound beneath her hands, pleased to see it’s finally slowing down. "We can't have you losing another limb."
"Suit yourself," Anakin drops his head again, "Better being an amputee than being dead."
Ahsoka presses her lips together. Really, she ought to use something to tourniquet his thigh, but she doesn't feel like she should be the one to make that decision. It would be really useful to have Kix or Coric here right now.
Eyeing up Anakin's outer tunic, Ahsoka thinks hard. Her first aid training is minimal at best, but she knows a few things. Wound dressings are practically impossible to mess up- or that's what Fives told her.
"Do I have a fever already?" Anakin asks when he feels Ahsoka tearing off strips of his outer tunic. His eyes are still closed, but all things considered, he doesn't look terrible.
"Not yet," Ahsoka replies, wrapping the fabric around the wound on his thigh, careful not to jolt the metal obstruction. She doesn't want to cause Anakin any unnecessary pain.
It takes a while, and it becomes a messy job, but Ahsoka's eventually satisfied. She just hopes none of the medics laugh at the way she's trying to stop Anakin's bleeding. It's not her fault that Coric's first aid training sessions are so boring that she can't pay attention, especially when she's sat between Torrent's token ARC troopers.
Echo listens intently, always making notes on a datapad, whereas Fives is just as ready to mess around as Ahsoka is, usually earning some sharp glares from Rex.
"That should hold it," Ahsoka sits back on her heels, sighing. Sweat's dripping down into her eyes- courtesy of the sun warming this gigantic metal box that they're sat in. She moves back to crouch by Anakin's head, tapping his cheek lightly, "Master?"
Anakin hums, opening both eyes, "Painkillers, Snips?"
"Sure," she finds the small pouch on her belt which holds her field medkit, taking out the silver packet. The painkillers are fairly standard- stronger than ones that can be bought over the counter, but not as heavy-duty as the ones carried by medics. She also has anti-shock meds.
"I'll grab my canteen," she stands, hovering over Anakin just to make sure nothing immediately happens before she leaves. Her Master stays still, eyes closing softly again. He'll be alright, as long as he doesn't fall asleep.
Crawling back underneath the cockpit door, Ahsoka searches for the canteen. She hopes Obi-Wan doesn't take too long because she and Anakin only have half a litre of water between them, and she doesn't plan on trekking through the sand dunes to find more.
She can hear the wind clearer in the cockpit, which builds dread in Ahsoka's stomach. They'll be sitting tookas in a sandstorm, and Obi-Wan won't be able to send a transport down if there are strong winds.
It’s best to be optimistic for now.
Collecting her canteen, Ahsoka starts crawling back under the door when the Force sends a white-hot warning.
The door drops suddenly, forcing her down to the ground with a pinning weight around her chest. Ahsoka can only gasp, completely winded and feeling paralysed as the metal slams down onto her ribs, making them crack, and then-
The door stops moving.
Ahsoka looks up, her body shaking in pain. Anakin's tilted his head back, eyes narrowed, and hand outstretched towards her. He's holding the door up from the Force, stopping it from crushing her small body completely.
"Move," he tells her through gritted teeth, "I can't hold it like this."