the water pulls me under, fills my lungs

Terrin had always hated ocean-based planets with a burning passion.

It may or may not have had something to do with her intense fear of open water and drowning.

...As well as her complete inability to swim.

So even as she tried to swallow her rising panic when she found her jetpack being shot at to send her into the waters below, as she floundered to keep her head above the choppy waves, barked orders into her comm… Oh, who was she kidding. She was beyond remaining calm when her head went under.

When she tried to gasp, only to get a mouthful of water, it made her heart thunder against her ribs that much faster.

When she tried to claw back to the surface, it was in vain; her armor was heavy, after all, and it wasn’t like she could swim, anyway.

The salt in the water burned her eyes and she desperately wished—just once, dammit!—that she’d worn her helmet. She had no idea if it would even keep the water off her face once she was fully submerged, but it would have been better than…

Her chest felt tight, her throat burned—she knew, she knew that trying to breathe was a terrible idea. It didn’t stop her from inhaling more water—

It was all she could think about. The water, pressing in on all sides. The water, threatening to fill her lungs. The water, grabbing hold and refusing to let go as it dragged her down, down, down with currents like claws and waved like a lead weight piling on her shoulders.

Can’t breathe, can’t breathe, her mind repeated desperately, can’t breathe, can’t swim, help.

When her head broke the surface she was left spluttering and coughing and it took her far too long to realize there was an arm around her waist.

She couldn’t tell who it was—eyes too blurry, ears full of water—but she gripped that arm like the lifeline it was.