Two angels floated in the depths of space.
They were both star vessels, converging in space. One was as large as a corvette-class, and bore a unique design that one could compare to a manual crossbow. The paintjob was of different tones of brown, painted onto a dusty green background, reminiscent of a forest. There was a collection of long range weaponry attached to the rectangular middle section of the gunship, such as laser cannons and missile launchers, but none of them activated as the other vessel attached to their airlocks together.
In fact, the ship didn't seem to be anything more than ruins, drifting in the abyss of space. Its cockpit was dark, its hull burst open by blaster holes almost like if they were outlines of the remains of popped soap bubbles, and its engines cold. Almost like a fresh corpse of metal.
The other vessel—a bulky, square-like Corellian light freighter—was a bird of a different feather. Despite its size, it was heavily modified with engines whose growls were as soft as a feline's purrs, energy dampeners, and static jammers; you could say it was like a demon, hiding under the guise of an angel. Sensors often indicated that it was mere cosmic radiation or similar, but by the time you figured it out, it would be too late.
Her crew called it the Valkyrie.
A tall man, hooded and clad in indigo and black, stood at the one of the Valkyrie's docking tubes, surrounded by four of his crewmates. All eyes and blasters were fixed on the airlock. Everyone was on edge, but you wouldn't be able to tell that from first glance.
On advice (or 'under orders', depending on who you ask) from their boss, they had traveled to this remote part of the Outer Rim to speak with the captain of this gunship. Allegedly, the captain not only shared the same anti-Imperial views (unsurprisingly, considering their connection through the crew's boss), but also the same values as the crew and the intent was to coordinate moves in their fight against the Empire in this section of the Galaxy.
Unfortunately, by the looks of the outside of the gunship, it seems that whoever inside didn't fare so well either. It was reasonable to believe that the Empire—or someone else with enough firepower—got to them first. There's no telling that anyone in there (if there's anyone in there) has hostile intent or not, so the crew was understandably wary.
"Lyste," said the man in green, turned to the man in a jacket of red and black. The younger man nodded, with the four other men backing away from the airlock to make way for him.
Lyste pulled out three small, metallic spheres from his pouch and attached them to the airlock door before he also backed away too. He pulled out a remote and pressed a button.
"Five, four," Lyste counted down, in time with the beeping of the detonation charges.
"Three, two," he mouthed 'one', and the charges blew, right on cue.
The men held their breaths and moved pass the smoke. No one was in the airlock and no one came. The gunship corridor was an empty, dark hall.
"Scanning for lifeforms," Lyste said as used his tech specs. "Clear. There could be droids though, so keep your guard up."
"That's too bad," said a more buff man. "Droids aren't the same as bucketheads. They're too predictable."
"Be careful what you wish for, Grint," called a woman from their communication devices. "We wouldn't want to run into droids or troopers that think outside the box, now would we?"
"It'd be a change of pace for once, but I believe I'd prefer only having those in non-life threatening situations, Tua," replied a skinnier and older man.
The men turned on their flashlights and walked across the corridor, their steps on the metal floor echoing throughout. Lyste went ahead to scatter glowrods across the floor. It would take a minute or two for them to fully illuminate. No one talked for few moments, until another voice on the comm. broke the silence.
"Anything?" asked a more masculine voice on the comm.
"No, but we have yet to get to the rest of the ship," answered the tall man.
"Everyone could have been vaporized—or it could be a trap. Surprise, surprise," Tua said. "Uh… Ancient, if you don't mind, perhaps you could—"
The tall man, apparently named Ancient, shot her down abruptly. "No."
Even if it was through comm., they still could hear Tua huff. Everyone knew what she was implying. "Sorry. Forget I asked."
Another awkward silence soon followed, until the glowrods finally illuminated the entire room.
The light revealed that the corridor was not made of steel, but of wood. And not just any kind. The wood used remained completely natural, no varnish or sanding, as if it was freshly cut from a tree. Branches and limbs were angled in a way that formed arches or conduits for hidden wiring. Curls decorated the walls like artwork being displayed at a gallery. For bulkheads, thick trunks were sliced, while sap functioned as glue and caulking, integrating both nature and machinery together. The crew members stared in awe, never having been exposed to such craftsmanship until now.
"Woah," Grint said. "You two are missing out,"
"Hey, it's not my fault that I'm the only one here who can decently fly a ship!" argued the masculine voice on the comm.
"What species are—or were—these people? Lyste? Can you tell?" asked the skinny man.
Lyste was about to answer, but he was cut off by the man in green. "Wookiees. This wood is wroshyr. No other species uses it better than them."
"Quit asking me as if I know everything, Aresko." said Lyste.
"Yes, Kallus is correct," confirmed Ancient. "Have you been on Kashyyyk before, Kallus?"
"No, but I distinctly remember that the Wookiee fighters at the Cleansing of Lasan were armed with wroshyr weapons," replied Kallus.
Grint grumbled. "It would've been nice if Fulcrum gave us that lil' bit of info there before we got here."
"Speaking of Fulcrum, I've contacted xer about our little dilemma." said Tua.
Kallus shook his head, pulling himself out of a trance. "Well, I don't see what we're waiting for," he motioned for them to come closer to a now visible doorway. "C'mon, men."
When they walked out of the corridor and through the doorway, the crew found themselves in a large chamber, also filled with wood. The room was assorted with lattice, which themselves had tree branches of burly size. Some were bare, others were covered in tufts of moss. The limbs stretched from all directions, twisted and intertwining with each other. The network was so thick that the ceiling seemed to be so high up, shrouded by darkness.
"These must be their quarters." Ancient recalled. He had previously met some Wookiees before, and they preferred to relax in trees, as that was how they lived back on Kashyyyk. The branches probably served as their beds.
He put his hand on one of the limbs. The moss crumbled into bits of coarse powder, dead. No one had been in here for a while. On a bare branch below it, however, was a series of pictographs engraved into the bark. "Writing."
The other four went over to side to see. "Wookiee," Kallus agreed. "There was writing on their weapons, too."
Lyste kneeled down to look at it. "It says, 'Wullffwarro'."
"You speak Wookiee?" asked Grint.
The younger man shrugged and looked down at his feet. "The written language is a breeze. The vocal language is a completely different story. I can understand it, but no human can speak Wookiee. It was required in my curriculum…"
"Wullffwarro," repeated Aresko. "That name… rings a bell. I… I think I remember him from the Holonet News back in the Clone Wars."
"I remember his name, too. He was one of the Republic's greatest soldiers at the time, but when the Empire rose to power, he was never heard from again. Looks like he and several other Wookiees went off the grid," Kallus said, interrupted by what sounded like a cough from outside of the room.
Everyone all quieted down and looked around. It was a cough. Somewhere from farther inside the ship. Someone was still alive, likely at the brink of death, but there was no telling if it was a Wookiee.
Kallus gestured the others to follow him under the branches, towards the sound's source. They went through an arched portal to the bridge of the gunship. In contrast with the other pristine sections of the ship, the bridge looked like a miniature warzone.
The stations' benches were torn from their moorings. The navigation systems and the like were smashed and shattered. The wood trim and cracked viewport were stained with red and green blood. It was clear that a vicious battle occurred, but strangely enough, only one body laid on the rubble, still breathing, but likely his last.
It was not a Wookiee. It was the sworn enemy of all Wookiees. A Trandoshan.
His green flight suit had holes the size of a human's palm, likely from a Wookiee bowcaster. His wounds would end him soon enough. His orange body was shedding scales faster than it could regenerate them.
Ancient kneeled in front of the humanoid lizard. One of the Trandoshan's eyes rolled towards him, the other eye forced shut. His tongue flicked in and out of his mouth, like a snake, as he rasped his final breaths.
The indigo-clad man caught the Trandoshan's tongue and glared at him. The others remained silent. "The Wookiees. Where are they?"
The Trandoshan gurgled in response, unable to properly speak until Ancient released his tongue. The reptilian chuckled and spat out one last word. "Empire."
He slumped back, closed his eyes and smirked. The crew was completely silent. They all knew what this meant. Wookiees were treated as inferior to the Empire, which was made of mostly humans, and were even classified as insentient, allowing the Empire to get away with putting them in slavery.
Ancient frowned and stood back up. He pulled his hood back. No point in hiding his face, now that the could've-been enemies were all confirmed to be from a hit and run or dead. The absence of the man's hood revealed his skin was chalk grey and bare, his face tattooed in red markings, and his eyes were an abnormal yellow. All but the last were typical of a Pau'an.
"I've received a message from Fulcrum," Tua said. "Xe said xe's looking into this. In the meantime, xe's told us to… oh… oh no..."
"To what, Tua?" asked Lyste.
Tua groaned. "Erm… Fulcrum wants us to Lothal. To meet with a man named… Cikatro Vizago?!"
"What?!" exclaimed Grint, Aresko, and Lyste. The former two couldn't believe that they were going back there, but they all couldn't believe they were also going to be in league with Vizago.
Ancient and Kallus exchanged confused looks. They both had to assume that the four of them were shocked by the mention of this 'Vizago' character.
"Would you mind telling us who this 'Cikatro Vizago' is?" asked Kallus. Aresko regained his composure and cleared his throat.
"Uh… Vizago is a well-known crime lord on Lothal, and the rest of the local sector, as the leader of the Broken Horn Syndicate... Although admittedly, he's not that different from other crime lords, it's just that…" his voice trailed off.
"Never mind, I get it," Ancient cut him off. He spoke into his comm. "I presume that this 'Vizago' has intel of some sort?"
"Oh, I, uh, yes, um… let me look…" stuttered Tua. "Fulcrum says that Vizago can get us information about the whereabouts of the Wookiees, but we'll have to meet with him first. Xe knows a place where he hangs out–"
"Well, alright then! If we're done doing our little crime scene investigation here, can we please just get a move on?" cut in the other comm. voice. "I don't know about you guys, but the longer you stand around in there and I leave the pilot's wheel cold, the closer the Wookiees are to… what, death? Or worse?"
Some of the boys grumbled and started heading back the way they came in. "C'mon, Rudor, why don't you relax like Lyste 'ere, huh?" Grint said as he patted Lyste on the back (which was a little too hard, since it nearly caused him to lose his footing). Lyste growled, but it was inaudible in comparison to Grint's hearty voice.
"Hey, look, if all we're going to do is stay put in the middle of nowhere, then I'd go take a well-deserved nap and that'd be the last you'd ever see of me, but I wouldn't mind if we, hey, did something against the Empire, right about now?"
Ancient shook his head and walked at a faster pace than the others, not wanting to get into the conversation.
"Well, look on the bright side, men," sighed Kallus. "After we deal with the Wookiees, we'll bring our services elsewhere shortly after. Besides your feelings of homecoming…"
"What makes Lothal any different from any other backwater world in the Outer Rim?"
Before you call me out on supposedly plagiarizing from another fic because you recognized it, then you should know that this is a repost from the same person.
Heavily inspired by the prologue of 'The Rebellion Begins', which is the novelization of 'Spark of Rebellion'.
I wrote this about a year ago, May 2015, actually. And yes, I never updated it since, because oops. I will at some point.
Original concept belongs to PileOfSith.