…On the Planet Corellia…

Sal leaned against the railing as he looked out over the Blastfield Shipyards which had been deemed necessary to resurrect after being inoperative for millennia. He had never seen anything like it. The metallic grinding of industry filled his senses as he gazed in fascination at the massive starship being assembled.

Throughout Coronet City, there was an uneasy stirring over the news…War. The Galactic Senate had announced its adoption of a Clone Army that would serve to fight the Separatist Alliance that threatened the Republic. This war would be his ticket off the planet and finally away from the only life he had ever known.

Sal rubbed his bruised face tenderly, knowing he could never go back to being a scrumrat for the White Worm. "It wasn't my fault. It all happened so quickly. I didn't mean for it to happen. I don't even know how I did it.", the boy thought to himself. His mind drifted to the incident…

…The Silo…

The heavy rain poured down on them as they tried to work quickly through the night. Sal had been recruited by the underground gang to act as a lookout for a smuggling operation. While the others were loading the stolen cargo, Sal had become distracted and failed to notice the unlucky dockmaster who rounded the corner and walked smack dab into the middle of the heist.

The lead smuggler, Rab, stepped forward. "What is this? You do not have authorization to be here…", declared the officer as he scanned the scene. A look of realization spread across his face. "...THIEVES!", he yelled, but went immediately silent as Rab produced a blaster.

"Tough luck mate.", Rab said coldly as he pointed it at the man's head. Falling to his knees, the dockmaster broke into sobs and begged for his life.

Sal had never witnessed death. Panic set in as he stepped forward. "Rab, stop!"

"Shut up, whelp! This is your fault! If you had just done your job, this all could have been avoided.", Rab growled.

"I swear, I will not say a word.", pleaded the dockmaster.

Rab looked back to his victim. "Oh I'm sure you won't...Dead sure.". A cruel smile creased the gang leader's face as he placed the barrel in the center of the poor fool's forehead. His finger slowly pulled the trigger back.

Time seemed to stop for Sal. He did not really remember what had happened next. In one moment he had raised a hand towards Rab. In the next, everyone stood staring in disbelief at Sal's outstretched hand which now held the thug's blaster.

Everyone's attention snapped back to reality by the sirens and spotlights that announced the Shipyard authorities' arrival. The White Worm gang members bolted, scattering in every direction. Sal took two steps before the terrified officer grabbed onto his leg. Without thinking, Sal kicked the dockmaster in the face, ripped the man's credit pouch from his belt, and ran for it.

Turning into a poorly lit alleyway, Sal found an access hatch to the lower city sewers. Replacing the cover, Sal froze and listened to the security officers running by. When all became silent again, the young scrumrat made his way to the rendezvous location.

The team was waiting for him when he arrived. Rab sat glaring at Sal. "You almost cost us the entire mission! We lost three of our own and made it out with only half of the cargo. What do you have to say for yourself!", he sneered.

Sal remained silent and slowly raised the dockmaster's credits pouch. It was sizable and Sal hoped it would cool Rab's temper. Zorrel, the team's second in command ripped the pouch from his hand and threw it to their leader. Rab greedily dumped its contents onto the ground in front of him. His face softened and he chuckled. "Not bad, scrumrat. It must be your lucky day. The officer had to have been on the payroll of one of the other gangs to be carrying this many credits." Sal let out a sigh of relief. "Now where is my blaster, and how the hell did you do that?", asked Rab with the edge in his voice returning, along with Sal's anxiety.

"I have no idea, it just happened and…and…I lost your blaster.", spoke the scrumrat quietly.

"You did what?!...", yelled Rab who was on his feet. "...You are going to pay with your hide!". Sal tried to turn and run, but was nabbed by three of the other gang members. An explosion of light went through his head as a fist came crashing into his face. Sal fell to the ground and was fighting to get up when a sharp kick landed squarely into his ribs. He could not breath and was losing consciousness quickly.

"Leave the boy alone!", shouted a voice over the chaos. The momentary pause gave Sal enough time to catch what little air he could. He managed to roll over and see a young man and woman. "Han…Q'ra…" was all the boy could make out over the pounding in his ears…

…The Shipyards…

"Why had he taken the beating for me?", he thought to himself. Sal vowed then and there that if he ever managed to get off Corellia, he would devote his life to helping others as he had been helped. He turned his attention back to the task at hand…finding a place on a ship. With so many supply ships being needed to make runs to the front lines, there had to be one that would take him on. He nodded to himself and made his way down to the docking ports.