![]() The green-tinged gas is beginning to reach him even if he’s not actively breathing, he doesn’t want the stuff creeping into his nostrils, and the shirt sleeve might buy him a few seconds if he does run out of air.īD-1 laps the room like he's drunk on caf, speeding up with every scan and making increasingly anxious noises with each failed investigation. If done properly, he should be able to conserve the air there longer than he would through his own power.Īs an extra precaution, he presses the lower half of his face into his sleeve. It reaches back with warmth, with calm, and as soon as he makes contact, its familiar presence curls through him. True, Cere might not have predicted a hermetically sealed room currency spewing poison gas, but maybe it would have been smarter to listen to her before he ran in.Īs soon as the breath is in his lungs, he brushes past the instinctive panic fringing his mind and instead reaches for the Force. Final, precious words before he draws the biggest breath of his life and holds it. “Try to find anything to slice,” Cal instructs BD-1. The Force can give him a little time, but it might not be enough. “A few minutes holding his breath?! A few minutes ? Isn’t that-”Ĭal doesn’t need the distraction, so he shuts off the comm. Greez’s panicked voice is replaced by Cere’s calm, grounded one. “Did that droid say what I think he just said? ‘Cause if so, you don’t have a minute.” “Yeah, I know, I know,” he says under his breath. Especially when what she’s right about is how utterly catastrophic this plan could be.īD-1 trills a warning in Cal’s ear. ![]() Cal has nothing against Cere he just wishes she were not right quite so often. Unfortunately, Cere was right, as she often is.
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