Forsaken

A/N: As of recent, I've been given the privilege to expand upon an absolutely enthralling one-shot, "Last Day Alive", written by laloga. I encourage you to check out her one-shot before reading my sequel, as it will make more sense, seeing as how the events of, "Forsaken", directly follow, "Last Day Alive." Feel free to drop a comment and favorite/follow, if you found it entertaining. But most of all, enjoy.

Special thanks to laloga for giving me permission to write a sequel, and if some of you didn't know, laloga is now a published author, and I highly recommend reading her books. I myself have just read Catalyst Moon: Incursion, and was in awe of how good it was.

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Chapter 1 Barely Breathing

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She gasped and struggled for breath, but maintained a steady pace as she carried the wounded soldier on her back. His name was Keeli; and miraculously, he was still breathing… just barely.

You better be alive back there. You better…

The night sky was pitch-black and her only means of light were the little Glow-bugs that surrounded, drifting lazily in the wind. Offering only a fleeting lambent source. It wasn't much, but she was grateful she could at least make out the path in front of her.

A soft moan escaped the soldier as she fell to her knees, convulsing and shuddering with every intake of breath. It had been nearly two hours since she'd last had a chance to rest. And Keeli was quite heavy a man. The fact that he was still fully clad in his white and burgundy armor didn't exactly help her situation either.

"Please forgive me," she wheezed, "I… I think we should take a moment to catch our breaths."

Keeli was silent, but nodded in response, ignoring the pain it caused. Even the slightest movement caused him extreme agony.

She watched him with a worried expression, as blood seeped through his ensanguined bandages, trickling down his wounded torso, and into a murky puddle. This caused the muddy pool to change from a misty brown to an almost rusty red.

"We should probably put some fresh bandages on that," she breathed meekly, horrified by all the gore.

It's not like she wasn't accustomed to the sight of blood, she was once after all a slave.

Born in one of those vile pig pens; how could I forget.

Keeli clutched his chest, as more of the life essence gushed out of his wounds, completely drenching his hand in devilish red. "I'm… fine. Just need a stim and some bacta."

She shook her head in response. "You are not fine, and I'm going to properly dress those wounds of yours."

Reluctantly he agreed- she could tell, as his shoulders sagged in defeat, though he remained silent.

With great effort, Keeli looked up, his helmet still concealing the entirety of his face, and his eyes were hidden beneath the emptiness of his visor. Longingly, she searched for his eyes, but through the blackness of his visor she saw nothing. He felt alone. But he wasn't.

"Your condition is worsening Keeli, we must find shelter for the night. It isn't safe, being so exposed. For Separatist forces are still present in the area."

Keeli mumbled something incoherent, but nodded in agreement.

The Twi'lek girl got up and dusted herself off. Then she gently grabbed hold of Keeli's arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, supporting his muscular frame. Despite the armor's hard exterior shell, she couldn't help but feel warm. With Keeli's arm casually draped over her slim shoulder- everything just felt so… right.

Careful not to injure him further, she hoisted him up, deliberately slow. Keeli limped onward as if he were in a daze, stumbling drunkenly. He must have been slipping in and out of consciousness. He was losing a lot of blood, at an alarming rate.

She couldn't afford to be picky. She looked around the darkness in search of some place they could take refuge in, but to no avail. It was just complete and utter blackness.

Suddenly, a strange pinging noise emitted from the wrecked communication pad embedded in Keeli's gauntlet. The thing was surely busted, she was sure of it. The wounded captain glanced towards his arm. "The communications array on my gauntlet is definitely inoperative. But my radar seems to be functioning," stated Keeli, in between ragged breaths.

"What's it picking up?" she questioned, inquisitively.

Keeli coughed. "A ship… I think. Must have turned on its distress beacon."

"Might have some medical supplies too," she added.

Keeli nodded in response. "Quite possibly. Force knows we could use it."

She stared long and hard through Keeli's visor, at what she could only presume were his eyes. "I'm going to check out this ship, I'll be back in an hour or so."

"There are some trees over by that rocky outcrop. They should provide me with sufficient cover. I'll be waiting over there," stated Keeli.

A shy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Don't go anywhere. Okay."

He responded with a slight chuckle, but then groaned. "Laughing hurts," complained Keeli.

She shot him an apologetic expression. "Sorry."

"It's fine. I'm tougher than you think, y'know," exclaimed Keeli, whilst grinning, despite his current situation.

Instead of smiling, she blushed a deep shade of teal, her complexion no longer resembling seafoam, but more of a duskier turquoise.

Keeli removed his armored gauntlet, handing it over to her. "Stay safe."

A delicate smile blossomed on her face. But it was a sad smile. "I'll try."

She turned to leave but Keeli held onto her hand. "Wait, I never got your name?"

Her hands reached for her face, in a desperate attempt to hide her blushing cheeks; though the flickering light from the gauntlet casted a soft glow, further emphasizing it. "I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner. At the time you just seemed so busy and I didn't want to be a bother. Plus, I'm just a tail-head; what would someone like you want with someone like me?"

There was something about this girl that compelled Keeli to reach out to her. But he stopped himself; his hand only a hairs length from her blushing teal cheek. He hesitated a moment longer, unsure of himself, but she leaned into his touch.

The synthmesh of his gloved hand could have been silk for all she cared. His touch was heavenly, as he traced the outline of her cheekbone. This caused her to involuntarily shudder, as she held her breath. "A wise man once told me that every life is worth fighting for. He lived and died by this philosophy," said Keeli, reminiscing his past. She opened her eyes, tilting her head quizzically, in a similar manner to that of the clones- which was quite amusing to Keeli.

"His name was Ima-Gun Di, and he was more of a father than a general. At least to me…"

It finally dawned on her, Ima-Gun Di was his Jedi-General, the one who had made a final stand with his company. The Kajain'Nikto that laid motionless amongst a heap of severed battledroid parts. His friend and father figure.

She propped her head on his shoulder, embracing his warmth, all while attempting to comfort the grieving soldier. "I'm sorry for your loss."

In response, he shook his head. "No, I'm sorry for troubling you. I'm sure you've lost people too." That much couldn't have been truer, though she did not say it aloud.

They both sat there in silence, deep in thought, remembering their past. "Well, before you give me more names let me share mine. I'm Willow, at least it's what I call myself." Willow frowned, recollecting memories best left forgotten; he certainly had a few of his own he wanted to just erase, but it didn't work like that. At least not without a good'ol bottle of booze.

Willow glanced back down at the transmitter on the armored gauntlet, still echoing the same pinging sound. "I should get a move on."

"Yeah, but I uh think you should take one of my blasters with you, just in case," replied Keeli.

He reached for his holster, drawing his blaster pistol with practiced ease.

"Do you know how to use one of these?" questioned Keeli, mildly concerned.

"I'm a quick study," retorted Willow.

"Do you know how to use one of these?" asked Keeli for the second time.

Willow rolled her eyes in exasperation. "How hard could it be? Is it not just pointing and pulling the trigger? "challenged Willow.

Begrudgingly Keeli admitted, "yeah, something like that."

Willow smirked triumphantly- for such a shy girl, she certainly had a fire in her.

Keeli placed the weapon in the palm of her hand and rubbed the back of his neck. "Try to make it quick."

"Gotcha, I'll be back before you know it," replied Willow, while stuffing the pistol in her waistband.

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A chilly breeze brushed over Willow as she trekked through the dusty plains, gazing at the holomoniter built into Keeli's gauntlet. Sighing, Willow pulled the corner of her coat up and stuffed her hands in her pockets. She glanced around, scanning the desolate plain, scanning for any signs of trouble. The CIS had a large contingent of battledroids deployed in the area, as well as an entire tank division ready to raze entire villages. From what she's heard from Cham Syndulla's insurgents; they weren't messing around, even being supported by a defoliator tank. But it wasn't just the Separatists she was worried about, Ryloth was home to a variety of deadly wildlife, ready to tear the flesh off your bones, whether by claws or jaws. When on Ryloth you must always remain vigilant, that is if you wanted to survive.

She hurried across the dusty ground, nearly slipping on a particularly rough patch, and headed for the crashed ship. It wasn't far now, only a few clicks east.

All of a sudden, the ground began to shake, and the sound of metal against rock echoing in the distance.

Sounds like I have company.

Willow's eyes darted around, scanning her surroundings for someplace to hide. Eventually spotting an unimpressive mound of dirt- guess that'll have to do. Willow dove behind the mound, lying flat against the dirt, hopefully out of their line of sight. As the resounding sound of metal limbs crashing against the barren dust, she spotted what looked to be Twi'leks among the regiment of B1s and B2s. All while being accompanied by three AATs.

Well, this just got a whole lot more interesting.

She watched intently from her mound, as the group marched in perfect unison, every mechanical leg landing at the same time with unparalleled precision. While the Twi'leks more or less crawled forward, bound by heavy metal chains- prisoners she thought ruefully. Willow brought a hand to her mouth, effectively muffling a gasp; as she watched one of the elderly Twi'leks collapses from exhaustion, right in front of a Super Battle Droid unit. Willow averted her eyes as she heard the gut-wrenching sound of bones crunching and a dying cry of unimaginable pain. The poor man had been trampled to death…

One of the slaves' broke rank in order to retrieve the trodden corpse- it was a mistake. A battledroid jabbed the man in his abdomen, with a particularly vicious looking electrostaff. "Get back in line slave," commanded the sentry with its comically nasally voice. The slave cowered under his relentless blows, as more droids joined in, seemingly enjoying the slave's torture. After a few grueling moments past, the smell of burnt flesh wafted over his unconscious body. "Drag him back with the rest," instructed the droid, who had distinctive yellow paint markings etched along his metal exterior., which designated his rank. The slaves stared back at their mechanized captors in a mixture of astonishment and fear. Unsure whether to continue forward or stay in place- they most surely wished to avoid the same fate of their fellow slaves.

"Keep moving! You are now the property of the Separatist Alliance, and you do as we command!"

You do as we command!

You do as we command…

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I think I was around five…

And I was so alone.

The galaxy was a cruel place and it dealt me this hand in life. By taking my mother from me, before I took my first steps. Before I uttered my first words.

The galaxy was cruel, yet I endured. Though, at the time, I wanted nothing more than to die. Sometimes I wonder if I still do…

I try so hard to remember, but I can't even remember her face; and my only memory of her was that lingering scent of willow blossoms, that seemed to follow her wherever she went. I like to think she was happy at one point in her miserable life, but who am I kidding. There's no such thing as a happy slave.

15 years ago

Zygerria

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"Get in there you filthy dog!" ordered the Zygerrian slaver, while simultaneously cracking an energy whip against my aching feet. Mother had died when I was still very young, and I was left alone, forced to fend for my own wellbeing. I had to survive without the tender love of a parent. I wanted someone to protect me from those awful people. But I wasn't fooling anyone but myself. It's hard to forget how bad my life had been prior to my escape.

"Forgive me, master," I begged, touching my head against the dirt seared floor. The Zygerrian sneered wickedly. "You must be taught a lesson, insolent child." I looked on in terror, frightful of what was to come. "Please master, have mercy!" I cried.

"There will be no mercy from me," said the slaver as he smiled gleefully.

I obliged faithfully; shuffling into the damp cell, slowly, as if I could bide myself more time.

"Please, please! I'll die in there!" I wept.

"I don't care if you live or die. Now be a good little girl and sit there and think about what you've done!" commanded the Zygerrian coldly.

I looked at him, half blinded by tears. That was when I first learned the meaning of evil.

"I'll be back in two days," said the Zygerrian, then he added menacingly, "to pick up the bones."

My cries echoed along those bloodstained walls for days.

But here I am alive and breathing, yet I want nothing more than to die.

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So, that flashback at the end was something completely new to me. Be sure to tell me if you want more in the future, and whether or not I did a decent job on it. I know this story got quite dark at the end, but I wanted to flesh-out Willows character more, seeing as previously she was sort of a blank slate. I felt that giving her a dark backstory would really add to Keeli's character, seeing as how both characters were former slaves. Usually, my stories don't get that dark, you know wanting to die and stuff. If anyone is going through something like that, they should seek professional help. This story will not have a regular update schedule, it's really something I'll be doing in my spare time unless it gets super popular. And thus, concludes chapter 1, "Barely Breathing."

Special thanks to laloga for allowing me to create a sequel to her lovely Fanfic, be sure to check out her work.