Coughing and spitting, you crawl onto the sandy shore. Your right hand is still clutching Hux' upper arm. Only when he goes to roll onto his back, you let go of him. Groaning, you get to your feet. You wet uniform is clinging to your skin and has sand all over it. Body feeling sore, you look around. Most of the ship is under the surface by now. You're not sure how deep the lake it, but it's possible that it won't sink any further.
The sun is shining down on you, a light breeze cools your face. As far as you can see, there is mostly plain grassland and a few patches of trees. Turning back to the lake, you see the ship still smoking. It makes you sigh.
Looking down to your left, you see that Hux still hasn't gotten up. You kneel down next to him: "Are you okay?"
He opens his eyes and turns his head to the side to look at you. His cheeks are red, his wet hair is clinging to his forehead, and you can see the laceration just above his temple that's still bleeding. The only answer he gives you is a huff.
"Alright then." You comment and look back at the water in hopes someone else is still alive. A white piece of armor catches you eye. It's reflecting the sunlight. At first you think it's one of the dead troopers floating in the water but then it moves in a way that indicates it's someone trying to swim.
Even though all you want to do is lie down and sleep, you take off your boots, jacket and dress pants. Underneath you are wearing your standard black shirt and leggings. Before you can question your actions, you wade back into the water.
"Where do you think you're going?" Hux asks. He might try to sound stern, however, there is a trace of worry in his voice.
"Someone's still out there." You tell him, already waist-deep in the water. Taking a deep breath, you push yourself off the sandy ground and start to swim towards the trooper. "They are probably dead anyways!" Hux protest but you don't listen and keep swimming.
With long strokes, you make your way over to them. "Hey!" You yell as soon as you can actually see them. Thank maker, they turn their head towards you. They are still wearing their helmet. "Over here!" They answer.
You don't like how close you have to get back to the ship, you don't stop though. When you reach them, you immediately put your arm around them to hold them above the water.
"Take off your helmet." You breathe out.
"I'm not allowed to, Ma'am." A modulated voice answers. Rolling your eyes, you grab the helmet and pull it off.
A young man is under it, looking at you with wide eyes. "Can you swim?"
"Barely." He admits. "Okay, turn around." You order. Without further ado, he does as told. Leaning back, you start to swim backwards, towing him back towards the shore.
Your muscles feel like they are on fire when you finally feel ground under your feet again. Letting go of the trooper, you drag yourself back onto the sand. Breathing heavily, you lay down and close your eyes.
"Thank you." He tells you as he lays down next to you. Squinting because of the bright sunlight, you look to the side to see Hux sitting next to your discarded uniform. On any other occasion, you would be embarrassed to be violating the dress code, however, you cannot be bothered right now.
After about a minute, you hear Hux getting to his feet. "Stand up." He orders.
Groaning, you get up. So does the trooper. Even though you are stranded on a foreign planet, drenched, and not even wearing your uniform, you stand at attention: "Sir." You see his eyes dart over your body and have to suppress a grin.
"What's your rank, soldier?" He looks at you as if he didn't see the decorations on your uniform. You don't know why he feels the need to not use your proper title.
"Lieutenant General at the 62A, Sir."
Does he look confused? The corners of your mouth twitch. This man is General – thereby a rank above you – and has no idea how the First Order structures it's Air Force and Medical Crops. Probably because he works with Troopers all day, and well...they are all Troopers. You consider explaining what area of concentration the 62A is, but you want him to ask. However, he just nods, pretending to understand what you just said.
"What's your ID?" Hux turns to the Trooper.
"FN-3816, Sir."
"Right." Looking around, he is seemingly trying to come up with a plan or what he should say next. It's a quite hilarious situation. Three people of the armed forces, all soaked, randomly standing at attention on a strange planet with no civilization in sight. Oh, and a smoking ship next to them with about fifty dead people on it.
At first, the thought makes you snicker, earning you an angry look by Hux, then you start to quietly sob. Tears running down your cheeks, you stubbornly keep holding your head up. When he notices, Hux gulps. Clearing his voice, he tells you: "At ease."
Relieved, you walk right past him towards your uniform. With shaking hands, you pick it up. Not looking at the others, you walk back into the water to wash the sand off your uniform and the clothes you're wearing.
When you're done, you just stand there for a minute, staring at the crashed ship. Desperately, you try to clear your thoughts to be able to make a plan. With your uniform in your arm, you take a deep breath and kneel down in the water, so that you're fully submerged. The water is quite clear, besides the sand you swirled up. Even though your vision is blurry, you turn your head and look around. You can make out some fish in the deeper areas. The movement of the water creates a continues noise that calms you down. You close your eyes and linger a little longer under the surface of the lake. As your chest starts to hurt, you push yourself back up.
Flipping your hair back with a swift movement of your head, you wade back to the shore. Hux as well as the trooper stare at you. You notice that Hux walked closer to the water's edge, like he was ready to come after you.
"May I make a suggestion, Sir?"
He gives you a stiff nod.
"We should seek cover for now. The rebellion probably knows or will shortly find out that important personnel was on the ship they shot down. They might come looking for survivors, and we're in no position to fight them."
"What are you suggesting?" He's standing incredibly upright, his hands behind his back, as he asks you that.
You nod towards the patch of trees visible in the distance.
"Alright."
It surprises you that he immediately agrees. "Alright." You repeat his words.
Turning to the Trooper, you say: "Sixteen."
"Yes, Lieutenant General."
"Your boots leave the largest imprints. Lead the way, and we'll follow your footsteps. That way they won't know how many we are. And help me cover the tracks we left in the sand."
He nods and does as told. When it's no longer clear how many people made it to the shore, Sixteen starts to walk towards the woods. Gesturing Hux to walk before you, you give him a smile. He's been suspiciously quiet.
Going in single file, you make your way towards the trees. Your clothes, including your boots, are ludicrously wet and every step you take causes a squishing sound. You still didn't put your uniform back on. You don't see how wearing more dripping wet clothes would make the situation any better. Hux seems to disagree because he obstinately keeps marching on in his. So does Sixteen. However, you suspect that he doesn't dare to ask for permission to take his one off. Hux really did a good job with them, concerning their dutifulness.