Fandom Star Wars Altaverse: Spark of Rebellion (IC)

[Malsuphur]

-ACT I-
Chapter I: Before the Storm​

Jalago's Market
West Side Slums
Udor City, Udorrea
Primeday (Late Morning)
Threetember 16th, 1104 ABR (After the Battle of Ruusan)

Redd walked among the crowds of people going back and forth through Jalago's Market, which was lined with rows of carts and tents and various shops and stands. It was one of the safer areas in the West Side Slums as Count Howen Jalago strictly forbade violence in the Market, a rule enforced by his private militia, the Wynguard. They could be seen walking among the crowds in their brown and green uniforms, keeping an eye out for troublemakers.

A majority of the shops were placed in and around the Count's multi-building estate, with the most popular being centralized in the main courtyard leading up to Jalago Manor. The Count was easily the wealthiest and most powerful man in the Slums, and he maintained this status by remaining neutral in all affairs that happened outside of the walls of his estate. He had agreements with many of the prominent gangs in the area that he would not interfere in their activities so long as they did not threaten his anti-violence accord within his market. He also allowed the various gangs to conduct business within his walls under the condition that it remained peaceful.

For Redd, the Market was a great place to see a variety of people from all walks of life going about their day. He would often sit up in a tree in the courtyard and spend hours observing people buying, selling, and conversing in various languages. Today people seemed a bit more tense than usual, owing to the fact that it was a rather warm morning, leading shoppers and store owners to wear minimal clothing and still sweat profusely. Redd himself was wearing a pair of shorts and a sleeveless tunic, with a cloth tied around his forehead to soak up sweat.

Deciding it was too hot to remain outside, he walked out of the estate's front gate and headed back towards Ashla's Garage a few blocks away. There she was laying underneath an elevated swoop bike, tools in her hand as she made repairs to the engine. She too was wearing shorts and a sleeveless tunic, an open toolbox sitting next to her. Luckily, the climate was controlled inside the garaga to an extent.

“Sure is warm out there today, Sis,” Redd said as he walked up to her. Beyond the service area were several rows of shelves with parts and tools along the walls, and two doorways – one leading to a storage closet and the other to their living quarters.

“Sure is,” she replied, focusing on her work. “Too warm for people watching, I take it?”

“Yeah, plus it's kinda boring today,” he said. “I wish I didn't have to hide my powers.”

“Listen, kiddo,” Ashla said, leaning up on one elbow to look at Redd. “You know why we must keep our Force-sensitivity hidden. The Empire can't find us.”

“But you're a Jedi!” he exclaimed. “You could totally destroy them!”

“I am no Jedi, Redd,” she replied seriously. “I've told you this many times. I left that order long ago. I am just a person who hates seeing tyrants oppress the innocent.”

“So why not fight them then?” he asked, raising his hands in desperation. “You have these amazing powers and besides training me, you do nothing to stop that Imp scum! You owe it to the galaxy to fight them!”

“Redd, you are still so very young,” Ashla said in a stern voice. “And there is a great deal more going on than you think. I have my reasons for my actions. And there are certain truths that are better left for when you are older. I'm going to need you to trust me, Redd. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” he replied with a sigh. Thus far he had not been privy to Ashla's true identity as Ahsoka Tano, or her online presence as Fulcrum. He only knew her as Ashla Eckol, a former Jedi and his mentor and adopted big sister. But soon all this would be revealed to him, for he had no idea that Ashla had a secret meeting planned later that evening in an old abandoned water treatment plant in the sewers. A meeting he did not know of, nor was invited to. A joining of several rebel leaders, namely Jedi General Rahm Kota and a few of his militia members and hired mercenaries...

Even as Redd sat in the garage with Ashla, Kota's ship dropped out of hyperspace above Udorrea, beginning the clearance and docking procedure. In a few hours, the crew would make their way into the sewers towards the water treatment plant specified by the unknown hacker Fulcrum. Kota only trusted the mysterious online figure because the data provided always checked out.

 

[Ghost Toast]

As Jackson walked through the market, he felt an odd trace. It was extremely faint, something only if you were relaxed could see, and how odd it was. The presence of the Force. He originaly thought it was an anomaly, that it was just something weird going on with the Force, just a complete and utter oddity. However, he soon knew it wasn't when he picked up the ever-so-faint trail. As he walked through the streets, he couldn't help but feel uneased. From the stalls, he could tell the people wanted to kill each other but didn't. He thought it was most likely the guards, but why would they be afraid of them?

As he approached the end of the trail, he soon found the garage. When he entered, he saw a human teen and a very familiar Torgruta. He couldn't believe it. It was Ahsoka Tano, how did she survive? He soon took his hood off and soon closed the garage by a nearby button saying to her "It has been a long time, eh Tano?"
Malsuphur

 

[Gravitational Force]

The Carrying Coffin latched onto the pirate ship and began cutting its way into the cargo hold. As it finished and the wall fell inward its loading ramp lowered and EPOC exited, blasters in hand. As pirates yelled out in alarm and tried to fire back it began picking them off two at a time. Blaster shots ricocheted around it and off its armor as it went about its gruesome work. When the last of the pirates had been gunned down, EPOC moved towards a storage container and opened it. Inside was a metal statue of a Twilek holding a electrostaff and a cage containing an obese adult human male in elaborate robes and a very obvious orange wig. He began yelling at EPOC, but it ignored him as it sent a communication. "All pirates on the ship have been terminated. One prisoner remains." EPOC gives his description.
From the other end a voice altered by a voice modulator gives an order: "I don't care, as long as the pirates are dead and the statue is unharmed. Your payment will be forwarded to your account when my transport team arrives."
"Acceptable." EPOC begins walking back to The Carrying Coffin. The man shouts after it "Let me out of here!"
EPOC doesn't turn around, but stop walking. "Why?"
"What do you mean ''Why?!"
"There is no reason for me to do so. I have not been hired to terminate you and you pose no threat to me."
"I can pay you!"
"You do not posses the means to at the moment."
"You can't do this to me! Do you know who I am?! I-"
EPOC tunes out the man's continued yelling as it enters its ship and disengages The Carrying Coffin. As the ship moves away the hole it opened in the cargo hold causes the ship to depressurize. The cargo was bolted down and stayed put, but all the oxygen was sucked into space. The man inside the hold turned blue and suffocated.
Soon a small luxury vessel left hyperspace and its crew retrieved the statue. EPOC checked its accounts, and upon finding the agreed upon amount had been deposited allowed the vessel to leave and then made the jump to hyperspace. Time to find a new contract.
Later on EPOC received a mass-message.
There would be a job-offering on Udorrea. EPOC set course for it.

 

[OnyxMule]

The ramp to the cargo hold of the newly landed freighter was now busy. Rodians walked back and forth on and off the ship to unload the heavy cargo that the ship contained. Among them, was a coated figure who stood out in the bunch. After helping to unload a couple of crates, he decided to leave the landing pad. When noticed, someone yelled at him seemingly agitated in Huttese. The man scratched his blonde head, then turned around and smiled.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry about that but a deal’s a deal yeah? Good fortune on your next trip, sir!”

The Rodian unwillingly waved him off and joined the others in handling the cargo, muttering to himself. The coated man turned and left the scene. He wandered without a destination, in belief that one would be bestowed upon him. He went out of the landing areas and into the slums of Udor City.

The streets were populated with people speaking in and signs flashing in Huttese. The coated man blended into his surroundings quite well. The man walked unremarkably down the street until he suddenly stopped and retraced his steps. His blue eyes were now fixed upon a sign on the building that he had just walked past in his goalless wandering. The sign was grazed with neon-green Huttese letters forming the word "cantina". The man inspected the two guards standing by the door. Two Gamorreans. They didn't seem to move a muscle as he approached.
“Good,” he thought, and entered the cantina.

Surprisingly, he was hit by cool air when he entered. The ventilation seemed to be working quite well, making the cantina rather cramped. Music was being played by a band consisting of Niktos and Twi’leks. The man inspected his surroundings as he made his way toward a vacant stool by the bar. The floor was filled with people of a broad range of species, and business was visibly going on in a lot of the booths. The tension in the crowded place hinted that the cantina would soon erupt into a large brawl if someone were to make a wrong move. The man sat down by the bar and ordered the house’s special fozbeer.

“Meeting with a client?" The question came from an old Nikto next to him who slurred from being intoxicated by too much alcohol. The old Nikto seemed to have drawn the conclusion by inspecting the man’s apparel and blaster.

“Nope. Here for pleasure,” the man replied, taking the first swig. The beer had an obvious homebrewn and cheap taste to it, making the man swallow the cooling beverage hard.

“Hah!” the Nikto exclaimed, flashing a mischievous grin. “If you pay the blue one over there, I’m sure you could have some pleasure,” he said and pointed toward a twi’lek dancer.

“Not exactly what I meant…” the man said, fingering his glass.

“Then what could a young man like you mean when he says he’s in a cantina for pleasure?”

“A moment of relative peace, if ever so brief,” the man responded, seemingly implying something.

The old Nikto seemed to hesitate, then he fully turned to face the man.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“It’s Eron.”

“You see Eron, I understand. You’re not that type of average troublemaker,” he said. “I was once like you myself you know. I believed that me and my men could utilize our criminal network to help others. It was honorful, but honor wears you down. Remember to enjoy yourself every once in a while,” he looked down toward his legs. “While you still can.”
Eron followed the old Nikto’s gaze and realized that he was not only missing a leg, but two. While still thinking about what he had just heard, he finished up his fozbeer and stood up. Heading toward the exit, he turned around to face the old Nikto once again.

“How did you know? About me?” he demanded.
The old Nikto laughed like it was obvious.

“Son, your whole posture screams chivalry,” he said. The Nikto then turned, ordered another drink, and then started laughing again, seemingly because he was drunk this time.
Eron, rather puzzled, turned on his heel once again. As he approached the exit, he heard someone shout behind him.

“What do you mean you don’t have my credits anymore?!”

Eron left without turning around, thinking to himself.
And there's the trouble.

 

[BlightGiver]

Amidst the mass of different species traveling the streets of the market, none stood out as much as Skuncho, a member of the Hutts. Anxiously, he turned his broad head in every which way; it would be obvious that he is looking for something. Skuncho pulled out a small device from his belt, a holo comm; "Found the mind changer yet?" He spoke in Huttese into the device. On the small display area, a holographic model of a seeker droid appeared to reply to Skuncho's inquiry. It sounded a series of beeps and buzzes, which only the relatively small Hutt was able to comprehend. "Baaah!" He shouted, throwing his more miniscule arms into the air. "No stopping, he is my final hope on this rock." Skuncho demanded before cutting the link. "This is why Skuncho never mixes business with business!" The angry Hutt stated, holding out a tiny holocomm timer, that was counting down seconds to a certain meeting.

If one would ponder this strange conundrum a Hutt was in on Udorrea, they'd have a relatively easy time figuring out what was going on. Here, on a more remote, unoccupied planet, Skuncho was looking for a client. Well, to be honest, he technically had two clients at this point. The first one, a Devaronian named Balzi, had inklings of adventure and profit; Skuncho had found him and made contact many weeks prior. On a dwarf planet, only a couple systems away from Udorrea's, was supposed to be the remnants of an old base; one which had belonged to older groups of the Mining Guild. During the station's hayday, the obscure objects uncovered by the Mining Guild's digging were kept locked away for later sale, or personal affirmation. No one alive even knew this station existed until Skuncho did some research with the "spooky voice" in his head. Balzi had been open to funding Skuncho's expedition there during their first contact. The other, well, that was more of a secret; a secret that was considered the most illegal action during the Empire's rule: treason. "If all goes well, Skuncho can blow of the sewer meeting. Skuncho will get rich from horned head's help instead." He hoped.

Unfortunately for the Hutt, Balzi had at some point caught wind of Skuncho's past and was not in the mood for ending up arrested by the Empire, or anyone else that didn't want them in that system. "Eeeh, sorry; but I have rescinded my previous offer. Find someone else to shill out credits for this suicide mission." Balzi bluntly stated to Skuncho earlier in the day. Thus leading to him now actually hunting down the fleeing Devaronian; Balzi was the last (legal) potential client in the sector. If not him, no one else could give aid for Skuncho's benefit.

Good luck finally occurred this day, as ID10 and Skuncho managed to corner Balzi in front of a starport; "You'll fund me, now!" Skuncho's cheap translator spoke in a terribly synthesized Galactic basic voice. "I am terribly sorry, my dear slug. But surely you can understand why I must say no to you once more.....even in this situation." Balzi spoke, while the ID10 had it's little pincers inches away from his eyes. "Bwaaah!' Skuncho retorted, displaying his Hutt arrogance. "You are stupid, this job will make Skuncho rich. If we're lucky, maybe you as well!" Balzi winced at Skuncho's atrocious attempt at coercion. " Weeell, uh, oh, look over there. A rich Trendoshan is seeking a business partner!" Balzi shouted, pointing behind the guillible Hutt. "Eeh?" Skuncho snorted, both him and his ID10 falling for Balzi's trick and looking away.

The sneaky Devaronian sprinted into the starport, alerting a few guards inside of a deranged Hutt that had been chasing him all day. They nodded and readied their weapons, before running out to confront Balzi's pursuer. "Hehe, suckers." He snickered, sneaking onto a starship that would take him to another system. Outside, Skuncho now found himself to be the one running away as the two guard managed to pick him out of the crowd very easily. "Stupid horned head; he's dead the next time we see him." Skuncho hissed in Huttese. With enough smoke bombs used from his pack, Skuncho managed to escape the guards and found himself in an unfamiliar neighborhood. "Gaah, stupid guards. Stupid devil man. Stupid Empire!" Skuncho loudly cursed under his breath, slithering in the street. "If the Empire was gone from this galaxy, Skuncho could find all precious things and become rich! All Hutt family would bow their fat bodies before Skuncho, with credits falling from ceiling!!" He became lost in his visions of selfish grandeur, whilst ID10 shook its tiny droid body in disapproval, before going into Skuncho's pack to shut down for a while. "But, if Skuncho want that, Skuncho will need to help get rid of the Empire." He spoke in a depressed voice. Taking out the small holocomm timer again, Skuncho finally had one last resort. One which would leave him wealthy, or dead by Imperial blaster fire.