Chapter Text
One moment Tseng had been right behind Veld as they escaped the collapsing ship. The next moment, the girder holding up a section of the roof fell right on top of him. The impact knocked the wind out of Tseng’s lungs, and he heard a sickening crunch as the beam pinned him to the cold metal floor. He gasped and wheezed as he clawed at the floor in a panic, trying to get free. But the girder kept him pinned, every movement sending jolts of agony through his spine. He could feel the bones shifting in his back, and he knew he had broken something important. He couldn’t feel his legs, couldn’t even move them.
Tseng stopped struggling for a moment to catch his breath, his shoulders sagging as he lay there, helpless. He looked up to search for Veld, but he couldn’t see the director anywhere. Had Veld even noticed what happened? He tried to call out for his mentor in the vain hope that he was still nearby, but he could only muster a pitiful whine. He tried again and again, but the weight on top of him was pressing on his lungs, making it hard to get enough breath to scream loud enough.
Tseng didn’t want to die. But maybe he deserved it. If he had done what he was supposed to, if he had focused on the mission, had destroyed the data and recovered the weapons in the first place, he wouldn’t even be back here. The abducted guard would have been fine waiting a few more minutes, he could have finished the mission and still have saved him. Veld was right about him, he had been foolish. Maybe he didn't have what it took to be a turk after all.
The ship shook, and more debris landed around Tseng. He shielded his face as shrapnel shot through the air from a burst pipe nearby. He let out a groan of pain as a piece of shrapnel sliced into his forearm. Tseng began pushing against the debris again, this time with renewed determination. He couldn’t just lay down and die, he wouldn’t accept defeat so easily. He pushed and squirmed against the debris holding him down, and then finally he got his lower half free. Looking behind him, Tseng could see the fire approaching, could feel how the ship shook as its foundation crumbled. Tseng’s legs were useless, so he was forced to drag himself forward.
Pain burned through his spine as he crawled, his broken bones protesting the movement, but the adrenaline and his desperation to live kept Tseng moving. He didn’t even notice or care when he cut himself on shrapnel or on sharp metal edges, leaving a sticky red trail behind him. He was beyond pain, the only thing on his mind was survival. No one was coming for him, so he would have to save himself, no matter the cost. Inch by inch he dragged himself across the floor, while more debris fell and got in his way, making his escape even more difficult. He pulled his shirt over his face when the smoke started to catch up to him, careful to breathe in as little as possible. It was a meager, useless defense, but it was all he could do. The explosions were getting closer and closer, the intervals between each rumble of the ship becoming shorter and shorter.
Tseng coughed and hacked as the smoke finally enveloped him, his eyes blurring with tears as he breathed in the toxic fumes. There wasn’t any air to breathe left, and the smoke around him made it impossible to see. He couldn’t tell if he was close to safety, or if his struggles had all been futile. To seal his doom further, the hallway in front of him collapsed, blocking Tseng's one chance of escape.
He collapsed, holding his hands over his nose and mouth as if it would make a difference. At least Veld had gotten out. Tseng wanted to see the director at least one more time, so he could apologize for making such a mess of things. But Veld would be long gone by now. Completing the mission, no matter what, that was the way of the turks. Veld wouldn’t waste time looking for Tseng, he would be too preoccupied with finding the traitor. As the situation was, Tseng was an acceptable casualty. Hopefully the next turk Veld decided to mentor would fare better than he had.
With no air left to breathe, Tseng quickly lost conciousness. He couldn’t feel it when the fire finally caught up to him. It licked at his shoes, then caught the edge of his pant leg, spreading further through his clothes. Tseng’s skin scorched and blistered as the fire enveloped his body, engulfing him completely. His flesh crackled and burned, giving off an aroma of grilled meat. The ship rumbled as another explosion ignited right on top of Tseng, snuffing his life out for good. The last explosion was what finally made the ship crumble completely, sinking into the water and dragging Tseng's body down with it.