STAR WARS: Espionage Tales Prologue and Chapter 1

 Prologue 

It has been 20 years since the fall of the Galactic Empire. The New Republic has risen and a crisis of politics takes place in the senate. The Centrist faction has begun to sew deceit into the threads of this still newly formed governing body, as rumors, of a threat of a new order dedicated to the resurrection of the Galactic Empire, spreads throughout the Unknown Regions, Wild Space and The Outer Rim Territories. 

As this unrest is sewn across the outer rim, The New Republic Scrambles to maintain order, and dissuade systems from threats of the rumored New Order. In the senate, More and More Centrists are elected to power promising Security to their systems, while secretly funding this rumored Imperial Order, consolidating their power against the Populists and perhaps the New Republic in its entirety. 

On the Mid  Rim planet of Yul Demos, A New Republic Spy travels to speak with a source to validate these claims and hopefully gain support for the Populists in stopping this threat from spreading across the galaxy, and the civil unrest upon this Mid Rim world.

Chapter 1: The Moff

Barton Gn’ok is a former smuggler turned New Republic Spy after, a job gone wrong five years earlier, Gn’ok was offered leniency from the New Republic, in exchange for ten years service of which he has served five. He travels to the back water, swamp world of Yul Demos, a vastly populated, with intentions of collecting data in regards to the former imperial presence on the world, from one of his contacts. 

During the ar Yul Demos, was a factory world, a place of great industrial might for the Empire, profiting off of rare minerals found deep within the waters of the swamps, that were exploited by the Empire to create countless weapons, of the top secret variety. It housed dozen of Tie Fighter Factories, An At-ST factory and at one point was the soul manufacturer of the Sabre Pikes used by Emperor Palpatine’s Royal Guard and as such housed a large detachment of the Imperial Guards, even after the Emperor’s death in 4ABY. 

Following the Treaty of Coruscant, this world was liberated by the New Republic, by force. The Imperial War Lords who once consolidated power on this world retreated into the Unknown Regions, following the Folly of Operation Cinder, which would have surely decimated this world in the Empire’s Final days. For a time, the people of this world were happy to be liberated under the republic’s rule but now something has changed.

As Barton’s Modified AA-9 Freighter sped towards the Docking bay at Monra Space Port, the port he would be meeting his contact at, he received a transmission, from a droid, rather than a New Republic Technical Officer asking for his clearances to land. Being of the New Republic he of course was given permission to land, but soon after found himself escorted to the Surface, not by X-Wing or other New Republic Craft but rather, by T-16 Skyhoppers. As he piloted his way to the surface, turning to his companion an over Eager C Series Astromech, C1-2P that he nicknamed “carpe” short for “Carpenter” due to the fact that when he found the droid it was a Wookie woodworkers assistant on Batuu, that Barton had won in a game of Sabacc. “Carpe, scan for New Republic Frequencies, code 0” the droid booped and beeped chattering at its master as it plugged into the Ships Communications systems. “Somethings wrong”

In the distance Barton could now see the space port and landed in the directed docking bay of the Spaceport. Bay 22, where a Series of Pit Droids marched toward the ship for refueling, along with an old Selkath. As the boarding ramp lowered, Barton and Carpe slowly made their way into the docking bay, as the doors above it sealed. “Welcome to Yul Demos, Friend, what can I do you for?” asks the Selkath approaching Barton. “I have business in the spaceport, I need fuel and perhaps some oil for the droid” states Barton to the man. “That’ll be 1000 Flan” states the Selkath. “1000 thats alot of flan?” “Mans gotta make a livin” states the Selkath. “Very well, my droid will get you sorted, if you don’t mind I am late for my meeting” the Selkath moves aside and approaches the droid to collect payment. The Selkath plugs into the droid, with a datapad, and 1100 credits are given to the Selkath “sir, your droid overpaid?” shouts the Selkath to Barton. “The Extra hundred is for you, tip for your discretion and the opening of your Dock, so I may leave freely. My business won’t take long” states Barton to the Selkath. Who taps a button on the data pad. “Pleasure doing business with you sir” shouts the Selkath as Barton leaves the Docking bay through a pair of brown metallic sliding doors.

Barton makes his way through the spaceport. Through a bazaar, a market with varieties from across the Mid and Outer Rims, from Fruits to Antiquities, this space port market seemed to have everything. The man traveled through the port, keeping his gaze low, his long brimmed hat lowered over his face, his poncho concealing his blaster, belt and most of his chest hidden from the onlookers, his hand gently placed on his hip, ready to quickly draw if necessary. He slowly approached the town square where agitators for the Centrists, stood atop the architecture, watched by security droids, spoke ill of the New Republic and the power held by the Populists party, a series of propaganda, that seemed to enthuse the onlookers many of whom used to work in the Imperial Factories and thrive under the rule of the Empire.

Old war time propaganda posters hung on walls throughout the outpost not as if they were not taken down but put back up as a strange symbol appeared on the walls, this wasn’t the sigil of the Empire that he remembered as it was hexagonal with a central circle that was filled with dark triangles lining the rim of the circle internally. He noticed it a few times walking through the space port, and soon arrived at the cantina. Unlike most of the town that was either run down or over crowded, the cantina was spotless, clean, polished and well maintained from the outside.

Barton approached the door and it slid open, as he entered into a hive of luxury, a strangeness to it. This wasn’t the cantina one would expect from a backwater space port, but more similar to the ones he had seen on Canto Bight or Coruscant. A droid concocted drinks behind the bar, as members of high society played games at the tables around the room. In the back corner, sat a Sullustan draped in a gray hooded poncho. Barton approached the Sullustan and before he could sit the Sullustan Spoke “you’re late” he uttered his voice thick. “I wasn’t expecting this” states Barton. “What do you mean?” asks The Sullustan. “We stand out like a sore thumb in here, isn’t there a seedier cantina here we coulda met in?” asks Barton. “This is the only Cantina, in the spaceport, Magura runs a tight ship” exclaims the Sullustan. “You have something for me?” asks Barton. The Sullustan pushes a small card of plastoid across the table to Barton. “Our friend must see this, it is crucial to your survival” states the Sullustan. As Barton grabs it the Sullustan grabs his hand. “They are back, I saw them. 13 of them, they were dirty, but it was them of that I have no doubt” whispers the Sullustan. “Whose back? Who did you see?” asks Barton. “ two blocks over in the old bootleggers corridor, 13 of them, Imperial Stormtroopers” states the Sullustan. “Stormtroopers?” whispers Barton back being shushed by the Sullustan. “Someone should alert the sector security” states Barton. “We can’t. They have taken control, replaced the New Republic of this world with droids, they tricked them, ambushed them. Forced the local government into this somehow, whoever leads them must be powerful though, it is why it is imperative you get this back to Hosnian Prime. The Sullustan grabs the side of his face from under his hood releasing Barton’s hand. “What… no… you must go… we must go now!”states the Sullustan as the doors to the cantina burst open.

The shrieks of the wealthy as they cower, the smoke around the door clearing as the White dirtied worn out armor of the Stormtroopers marched into the Cantina.their blasters drawn their normal black body glove replaced by tattered clothing, of mostly blacks and reds, their helmets modified with visors, elongated pauldrons, some of them even wearing pieces of black or red armor carrying different weapons. The stormtroopers fanned out around the room, as they made way for their commanding officer, who strangely did not wear any form of armor. He was tall, slender and his pants were well tailored not the same as the usual pilloted pants of the Imperial officers. His boots were standard issue, his hands gloved with very fine hide. Upon his face sat a pair of spectacles, that not only operated as his choice of eyewear but also provided this officer with a hud, by which he could identify beings with chain codes as he glanced around the room. His tunic was black and worn and upon his shoulder a Maroon Pauldron of Imperial Armor well kept, but unlike the other armor of his forces, this man's Armor wasn’t plastoid but instead, a metallic alloy, that even Barton had never seen before. Protruding from his pauldron was a slim Black cape with a maroon liner at its bottom, more similar to that of a Mandalorian than imperial. His face was not aged; rather he appeared perhaps only in his 30’s or early 40’s seeing the rise of and perhaps serving in the Empire in his youth. “Everyone out, he uttered” his voice commanding but not Coruscanti closer to the accent of Corellia or Socorro. As he commanded the wealthy patrons of the cantina left, as he approached the table where Barton and the Sullustan sat, followed by his Stormtroopers who fanned out.

He approached the table and took a seat across from Barton and the Sullustan, looking at both of them, having them cornered. “I believe you have something that belongs to me” states the man, his eyes scanning Barton’s face for identification “Barton Gn’oc.” he states shocking Barton. “How do you know me?” asks Barton, looking at the man's face. “Your chain code once issued to you served the ISB and now it serves me too, so you can hand over that little plastoid card and we all walk out of this alive, is that understood?” threatens the man as Barton attempts to stealthily grab his blaster, as he does though the Troopers aim at Barton all at once around the room. “Who are you?” asks Barton. “ I am afraid I lost my identity a long time ago, my friend. But the folks around here call me the Moff, it’s touching really given I never was that into politics until more recently” states the man addressing himself as a Moff. “you’re too young to be a Moff, most of the Moff’s are old men” “yes, but it comes with the perks of being Successful”states the Moff looking at Barton extending his hand for the card. Barton hands “the Moff” the Card. “Thank you for your cooperation gentlemen, that is most appreciated, I really don’t like when things get messy” states the Moff, as he stands up and walks towards the door, before turning to an Old Woman, A Ortolan. “Miss Magura, my apologies for the Door, please take this for your troubles” states the Moff pulling a handful of Credits from his belt and placing them on the door. “There is a little extra in there too, for the mess” he states. The moff continued out the door and as he stepped over the threshold the Stormtroopers opened fire on Barton and The Sullustan, the Sullustan killed off by one of the first blasts as Barton flipped the table and hid behind it, grabbing his pistols a set of modified DL-44’s and firing back on the troopers. Keeping the table as cover as the troopers continued firing. 

Barton stays in cover tapping a communicator on his wrist “this is New Republic Agent, Barton Gn’oc, my cover has been blown, I am pinned down in Magura’s Parlor at Monra Space Port on the planet Yul Demos, requesting New Republic backup, there are Imperial Stormtroopers here working for a guy who calls himself the Moff. This may be my last transmission. If any New Republic Forces are in this sector, this is a distress call I am pinned down, I repeat I am” just as he finishes his sentence, he is gunned down by one of the Troopers, who proceeds to fire at the comms device.