"I thought you said something like this is worth at least 200 credits!" Ezra yelled, clutching a worn out blaster.

So, earlier he had managed to slip into a cantina (somehow fooling the dimwitted bartender into thinking he was 19 when asked about his age). He struck gold, managing to steal an old blaster pistol from a drunk and nearly unconscious sleemo. Good god, did that guy smell like crap and booze. They all did in that grimy watering hole. But if it meant being able to get something valuable (i.e through gambling and stealing) then it was worth it. Sadly, the pawnbroker didn't think so.

"Are you kidding me kid? This thing's ancient. Not to mention it's so battered and worn out, I'm surprised it didn't blow up or backfire!" He said, examining the weapon. "I'll give you 50 for the parts I can salvage. But this thing ain't worth a few hundred."

Ezra grumbled. All day long he had been staking out, trying his best to look unassuming. He barely managed to get into that cantina, let alone sneak out with a blaster pistol stolen in plain view of at least a couple of scavengers, bounty hunters and criminals. And now this kriffing asshole was offering to pay less that a quarter of that sum. Although, 50 credits would still be enough for a couple of days worth of jogans, he thought to himself

"Alright fine" he relented with a large sigh, "here, have the bla-" but was cut short by the sound of comm chatter and loud footsteps. Looking over, he saw an imperial patrol, along with what looked like an officer, strutting down the street, harassing a couple of street vendors as they went. His eyes widened in panic. Sure, the imps on Lothal were very dim and incompetent at times, but that doesn't mean they would overlook a blaster being pawned by a teen.

Evidently, the pawnbroker thought so to, as the next thing Ezra knew, he was shoved out of the shop, with the sound of a shutter falling and the door locking being heard.

"Sorry kid! Come back another day!"

Ezra was stunned for a moment before registering that the imps were still headed his way. He dove into a nearby alleyway and hid behind some crates, observing them harass a few more traders, before walking down the opposite alley. That's odd, Ezra thought, That just leads to a residential district. There isn't anything in or around there which is of value for those greedy bastards. There's only that-.

Ezra's eyes widened at the sudden thought. Could they be heading to-? No there's no reason for a simple patrol to head there, he assured himself. Nevertheless, intrigued by the possibility, he followed them.

He turned out to be right. Tailing them closely, he saw them stopping outside an abandoned house. One with a bunch of messages written across the walls by the empire warning people to stay away. The reason? This was the home of Ephraim and Mira Bridger. Known outspoken anti-imperial orators.

And parents of Ezra Bridger.

As he watched, Ezra couldn't help but feel miserable. It was here, 8 years ago, as his parents shoved him into the secret basement, that the empire found them. His parents shut the entrance to the basement and hid it from view. Ezra just sat in the dark, crying silently as he heard his parents being taken away. A few hours later, believing they were gone, Ezra crawled out of the basement, tears still streaming down his face. He ran. As fast as he could away from the house. A few days later, when he came back to collect what possessions he could from the house, he was caught by a patrol and, quite literally, thrown out and into a nearby alley. He made a few more attempts to salvage some things, each time being or nearly being caught by the untimely appearance of a patrol nearby.

Ezra was broken out of his reverie when a few troopers came out through the door pushing a crate. He felt his blood boil as he identified the contents as several of his parents possessions. A few WESTARs, paperback books, several holodisks and some small, sculpted objects.

"Sir, this is the last of the valuables we could find," Ezra heard one trooper say.

"Excellent," the officer replied as he examined the countless objects. "No need to write any report on this, captain. There's no need for anyone to know" he added, picking up a sculpted Lothcat. "These are really marvellous. Perhaps I should keep them. They're simply too good to be sold,"

Ezra could feel himself shaking with anger. This sleemo thinks he could waltz into the house, loot my stuff and sell them? Who the KRIFF does he think he is, claiming my parents stuff as his own?. When he eventually stopped fuming, he realised they had just left. Cursing to himself, he made to follow them. Screw his hunger, he was getting his stuff back.

As he followed the patrol, however, he was distracted by something happening in along the adjacent street. Another patrol, this time with 2 officers were harassing a Gotal trader.

"Your identification, NOW!" The lump of pale fat for an officer yelled

Ezra looked over and saw that the patrol he was tailing was headed in the direction of the main square. He let out a sigh. He could get his stuff later, right now he has a tradesman to help out.

"I'm just trying to sell some Jogans!" The tradesman pleaded

The other officer replied "All trade MUST be registered with the empire,"

bullshit

The tradesman looked the second officer dead in the eye. "I remembered what it was like before. Before you and your wretched forsaken empire showed up and ruined Lothal like the rest of the galaxy!" He spat. His words reverberating in the air as people gasped and stared in shock and sympathy. Shocked because he openly insulted an officer, and sympathy for what was about to happen next.

The second officer, a tall and gaunt man, pulled out his comm. "This is LRC-01. I'm bringing in a citizen under the charge of treason"

"Copy that LRC-01. Dispatch to cellblock AA-33," the operator replied, as 2 troopers seized the tradesman and the buff officer took his basket of jogans

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" The trader yelled in despair.

"Oh yeah?" The fat lard replied, munching on one of the jogans, "And who's gonna stop us? You? You?" He added, pointing to random passersby, who all promptly shook their heads and went back to what they were doing.

While the two officers were sneering, Ezra walked past unassumingly and snatched the fat idiot's comm. He smiled, this was going to be fun

As the officers followed the troopers, the comm on the gaunt officer's belt chimed.

"All officers to the main square! We have a code red emergency!"

The gaunt officer (whose name Ezra later found out was Aresko) sighed, "Today's your lucky day, Lothal scum," as the troopers escorting the tradesman threw him to the ground and the fat officer (whose name was grint) dropped the entire basket of jogans on his head, before leaving for the main square.

Ezra smirked as the imps fell for his "code red". Seriously, how dumb could they get? As they left Ezra walked towards the tradesman as he took out the comm and continued to say "Stay on alert, this is a code red!".

"Thank you," the Gotal trader said, offering a Jogan. Ezra took it and climbed up onto a nearby rooftop and headed to the main square.

The trader could not believe it. One moment, he was going to get incarcerated for years, the next this boy helps him out of his sticky situation. Rarely anyone showed this kind of kindness on Lothal. Not since the empire took over.

As he gathered up the jogans on the floor, he had only one thought running through his mind. Who is that kid?

Ezra watched as the imps rushed into the main square gasping for breath and ready to fight, only to find it nothing wrong. He watched as lard-ass walked over to the commander (who Ezra then realised was the same guy who looted his parents' house) and asked, "What's the situation?"

"What do you mean?

" YOU CALLED IN A BLEEDIN' CODE RED!"

"No I didn't? I'm supposed to transport these crates-"(Ezra looked to where he was pointing and saw the crate with his parents' stuff) "-back to base,"

"Well get them loaded then!"

It was all Ezra could do to hold back his laughter. Messing with bucketheads never gets old, he thought to himself, Now how do I get that crate?

Suddenly Ezra got that feeling again. Though this time it wasn't sinister. It was sort of calling to him. "Well that's weird" he said aloud. Curious, he turned to where it, whatever it was, was calling to him. He spotted a man with shoulder pads (or whatever they're called) and brown hair tied into a short ponytail. He ducked down so as to avoid being seen by this man when he looked around. As he peered over the rooftop, he saw this man walk over to an alley and tapped his holster 2 times. A big purple figure walked out. Ezra's eyes widened, realising it was a Lasat. He had heard about them, and if the rumours were true, they were massacred by the empire.

Ezra watched as the man walked over to a Mandalorean in colourful armour before doing the same thing. This time she walked past one of the speeder bikes and toss something before casually strolling away. Ezra suddenly realised what was going on and braced himself. Sure enough, the bike exploded in a large fireball, sending a shockwave that nearly knocked Ezra off the building. Recovering from the explosion, he saw the imps panicking.

"GET THOSE CRATES OUT OF HERE, NOW. KEEP THEM SECURE AT ALL COSTS!" One of the officers ordered.

At all costs, huh? , Ezra thought with a smile, I kinda like the sound of that!

*A/N: So this is the 2nd chapter. 1.7k words long! Yay!(internally crying). So due to upcoming exams, I would probably upload 1 more chapter next week before going silent for a while til' they're over. So please be understanding and patient. Please also r&r and tell me what you think! Cheers!