Alone
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Disclaimer: Guess what! I don't own Star Wars! Or lotion... Or Nadal'a; she belongs to my sister. What I do own, though, is Akaan'ade and the plot of this story.
Author's Note: This story takes place after the defection of Havoc Squad. If you need more info about Akaan'ade's Dad, feel free to read my other story, "The Sa'yc Legacy."
P.S. It gets better. Trust me.
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He was alone.
Akaan'ade Sa'yc had been sitting at the bar for a very long time now.
He had never drunk alcohol before, but that didn't stop him now.
He was alone.
The soldier lifted his mug to his lips, taking a large gulp of whatever substance was in it.
It burned, but he didn't care.
He was alone.
The soldier looked into his drink, the color reflecting his feelings.
The drink was black, and black was empty.
Empty was his life.
He was alone.
Lifting the mug to his lips, he took another gulp, the burning sensation bringing tears to his eyes.
He didn't mind, he would have cried anyways.
Everyone had left him.
He was alone.
"Hey there, soldier, you got a name?" a voice beside him called out as an elbow gently nudged him.
"Sa'yc."
Sa'yc was the last name of his mother, but that didn't matter, both his parents were dead.
He was alone.
"I'm Captain Nadal'a," she slurred cheerfully, obviously intoxicated.
He looked back to his drink, watching the little bubbles fizz.
One after one popped, one after one fizzed.
The bubbles always left each other, either by popping, or by swimming away in the darkly colored drink.
How they left didn't matter, they left anyways.
Just like the people in his life left him.
He was alone.
"Why are you here tonight?" she asked, sluggishly jabbing a finger into his shoulder.
"I'm alone," he answered, slightly surprised by the edge in his voice.
It was as sharp as a knife with a honed blade.
A blade as sharp as his voice would have easily cut through limbs.
Dad was killed with a blade, one that was dull, so he had heard.
He was alone.
"No, you're not," she stated, hiccups interrupting her words. "You got me."
"That doesn't matter," he answered.
And it didn't.
When he left, he would leave her behind.
He was alone.
"Oh, yes it does," she argued.
"I'm sorry, Nadal'a, but I have to go," he stated, getting up from his seat at the bar.
He halted in his unsteady trek to the exit when she called his name.
"Sa'yc! Wait- where are you going?"
He needed to think, but it was kind of hard when the world slowed to a stop.
Where was he going?
He had no home. He had no family. He had no squad.
He was alone.
"Away."
It was a decent answer.
And it was true.
"Are you just going to walk there?" she shouted over the music.
Was he going to walk there? Where was he even walking to?
"Apparently so," he answered, taking another step.
He wanted to leave that moment.
He was alone.
"Now don't be silly," her voice slurred, coming from directly over his shoulder. "My farm boy is somewhere over there," she paused, before pointing in another direction. "Over there... He can take you where you wanna go."
He sighed, coming to the realization that he hadn't wanted to take a step.
"If it's no trouble."
"None at all," she hiccupped before he heard her shuffle away, shouting at the bar in a singsong voice. "Corso! I need your sober driving!"
Not even a moment later, they came back.
A hand was on his shoulder, steering him out of the bar.
He was alone.
.
He was alone.
He sat in the backseat of a speeder, forehead pressed to the window.
Swallowing roughly, he slowly pulled his face back.
He was alone.
The landscape flew by faster than his eyes could track, so his gaze focused on his reflection.
There were dark circles under his eyes, giving away the countless, sleepless nights.
The dark circles framed dull blue eyes. They had been bright, vibrant like he used to be.
Now they were hollow.
He was alone.
The dull blue eyes sifted through the rest of his face.
The gaze rested on the three bars tattooed on his forehead; the aurebesh H was as dark as his hair.
The dark H stood for Havoc Squad.
Havoc Squad defected.
He was alone.
Right next to the H, a long scar ended.
It covered the most of the right side of his face.
At the moment, he couldn't quite remember how he got it.
But that didn't matter.
He was alone.
Tired eyes slowly drifted shut.
The tired face slowly slid out of view.
The darkness of slumber claimed him.
He was alone.
.
He wasn't alone.
A massive headache plagued him, but that didn't stop him; nothing did.
He wasn't alone.
His eyes fluttered open, looking at the dark ceiling.
The lights were turned down low.
But that didn't matter.
He wasn't alone.
He flipped onto his side, looking across the room to his friend.
Nadal'a was tying some cloth over her eyes.
A man stood by her bed, looking down at her.
"Now you look like a Miralukan," the man laughed.
"Shut up, farm boy," Nadal'a shot back. "Sounds hurt my eyes."
He wasn't alone.
The 'farm boy' turned, seeing that he was awake.
"I'm Corso Riggs," the 'farm boy' introduced himself as he walked across the room.
"Sa'yc. Akaan'ade Sa'yc."
"I'm sorry I couldn't get you home. You fell asleep before I could ask. So you're at my house," Corso stated with a smile.
"Thanks," he managed to mutter through the headache.
So he wasn't anywhere near home, wherever that was.
But that didn't matter.
Akaan'ade Sa'yc wasn't alone.
The End