CoS 44

22 BBY

The spaceport departures lounge was full, but there was almost no queue at all for customs. Obi-Wan wouldn’t have even had to wait at all if it wasn’t for Prialla and Anakin being admitted to the spaceport ahead of him. Obi-Wan watched over his shoulder as a husband held his pregnant wife, who seemed to be struggling with the weight of the moment as tears rolled down her face. The woman had the same blue eyed, blonde haired look as Duchess Satine, common to those of original Mandalorian stock.

Obi-Wan sighed, wrenching his eyes away and looking back ahead. It made sense that so many people would want to leave, and so few would be wanting to come. Imagine if the assassin had succeeded in killing Satine? What would have happened to the government? What if the Clans tried to retake control? Or, may the Force be with us all, one of those maniacs from the Watch? The atmosphere was so tense and fearful that it was obvious people thought they were returning to civil war even though Satine was still alive. 

“You okay, Kenobi?” A voice asked over his shoulder.

Obi-Wan didn’t even look back. “Quinlan, I spent a long time on the run with Satine to make sure Mandalore would be at peace, and now it seems that effort was in vain. Perhaps the New Temple is eager to plunge the Galaxy into war, but having been through one, it’s not a fate I would wish upon anyone if I could help it.”

There was a brief pause before Quinlan replied. “But that’s the rub, isn’t it, Kenobi? It’s really not up to us is it?”

Soon enough the customs desk was done with Anakin and Priala, then it was Kenobi and Quinlan’s turn. Once their credentials were accepted, they were allowed through. They left the main entrance as a news channel played over a nearby public holocom. It displayed the image of an attractive twi’lek, just shy of middle age. She spoke in a clear, low voice.

“Tensions rise across the Outer Rim, after another heated day on the Senate floor. Senator Libbo Wurmnar of Neimoidia and Senator Padme Amidala of Naboo, both accuse each other of trying to provoke a war. Representing the Trade Federation and the Outer Rim Reform Alliance respectively, Senator Wurmnar claims the Federation has the right to freedom of navigation, while Senator Amidala claims that the Neimoidians have been creating an empire in all but name for decades, as the Republic refuses to take action-” 

The voice was cut off as they stepped out onto the street. The Prime Minister’s speeder was coming to pick them up, but they had a moment before it arrived.

“So, what’s our play?” Vos asked. 

Hearing him voice the question, both Anakin and Priala came over, waiting to hear what Kenobi had to say.

“Concorida Services is affiliated with the Prime Minister. If he’s behind the assassination, then we don’t want him or anyone else to know we’re looking into it.” Kenobi looked around. “Understand? We’re not going to mention that company at all until there’s no other choice.”

They all nodded. 

“Vos, Anakin and I recovered a box that the assassin used to hide the explosives, along with a blaster. Can you use your Psychometry on them? We might get lucky and find a lead.”

Anakin dug the box out of his backpack, broke the plastic seal they’d been keeping it in, and handed it to Quinlan, who closed his eyes and checked its past, before he grunted and shook his head. “Purchased from a street vendor on Coruscant.” When Anakin passed him the blaster, he did the same. “No luck. Made and sold on Coruscant, doesn’t look like she has a license for it, but nothing we can use.”

“I expected as much.” Obi-Wan sighed, and Anakin quickly resealed both pieces of evidence. “The Alliance and the Trade Federation won’t wait for us, so the clock is ticking. We need to cover a lot of ground fairly quickly, and we may only have hours to do it, so we need to split up, but this is also Mandalore, so we’re at serious risk of harm if we go off by ourselves. To keep it simple, we’ll split into two teams of two. Anakin, you’re skilled with computers, Prialla, I’ve never really worked with you before, but I’d ask you to go with him. Check public records, find out everything you can about Concordia Services. Quinlan and I will go to the governmentorial palace, and speak with the Prime Minister. Vos, I don’t think he knows about your psychometry. Maybe if you can get a handshake in we can learn something useful. Any objection?” Obi-Wan looked to the others.

No one raised their voice in protest, which Obi-Wan chose to believe meant his plan was excellent.

After that, they broke into two teams. Anakin and Prialla headed for the hall of records in a speeder taxi, while Kenobi and Vos went to meet with the Prime Minister. 

The palace looked like much of the rest of the upper city, after it was rebuilt by the New Mandalorians. It was all composed of large plates of transparisteel, even some of the ceilings and floors. It gave the impression of glass houses, easily damaged by a thrown rock, but transparisteel was actually fairly tough. The intention was to symbolize the transparency of the new government, another way of rejecting the old mystique of super commandos with covered faces. Obi-Wan didn’t exactly appreciate the aesthetic. Especially when he glanced down half a dozen floors and accidentally made eye contact with a man who awkwardly looked away and tried to pretend he hadn’t been curiously staring at the Jedi.

“I just don’t get how anyone lives here.” Vos grumped.

“They don’t live here, they work here.” Obi-Wan explained. 

A handful of the Mandalorian Royal Guards let them into the throne room, and they found the Prime Minister waiting for them at the bottom of the steps that led up to the dais. The throne sat vacant at the moment.

“Eyeing your next promotion?” Vos asked, smirking.

Pre Vizla turned to the two Jedi entering the room, and laughed politely at Vos' suggestion. “We have yet to determine if the Duchess’s chair is hereditary or elected. I would not want it either way.” He bowed once, small and formal. “I’m Pre Vizla, Governor of Concordia and Prime Minister of her Majesty’s government.”

“I am Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Obi-Wan bowed. “Of the Coruscant Temple.”

“Quinlan Vos, Indinoor.” 

The brusqueness of the intro made Obi-Wan flinch, but then he realised what Quinlan was up to when the man offered his hand to the Prime Minister for a shake. Realizing what his gambit was, Obi-Wan rushed to add, “You’ll have to forgive us, the Jedi of Indinoor seem to have not learned their manners, yet.”

“Yes. Quite.” Pre Vizla agreed. He was a tall, bald man with piercing blue eyes, and blonde eyebrows. Definitely a pureblooded mandalorian at a glance, but with a sharp jaw and neck corded from regular exercise. He was also trained to shield his mind, so there was a moment as Vos waited with his hand outstretched, and Obi-Wan watched, before Vizla reluctantly accepted the handshake. 

Whatever Vos saw with his psychometry must have surprised him, because he paused on the spot for half a second. Then he completed the handshake, and strode over to the transparisteel wall. He whistled. “Wow, what a view.”

Pre’s eyes narrowed. Whether it was because he realised Vos’s game, or at the flagrant disrespect, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure.

“I apologise for him, really.” Obi-Wan stepped forward. “On Coruscant, we have higher standards of professionalism, I promise.”

Pre turned to regard Obi-Wan, hard face and gaze narrowed. “There's only so many insults I will accept, Master Jedi.”

“Yes, of course.” Obi-Wan turned to Vos. “Knight Quinlan, if you’re not going to be civil, perhaps you should find a better use of your time elsewhere.”

Quinlan turned, regarding the two with a defiant expression. He gave an annoyed snort. “Wanted to do some sightseeing, anyway.” He muttered, and stalked away.

“I honestly don’t know what they’re teaching them out there.” Obi-Wan explained to Vizla with a sigh. 

“Yes, well is there something I can do for you?” Pre asked. “Of course I will help you with your investigation in every way I can. Duchess Satine is a good friend.” 

“She’s a good friend to me, too.” Obi-Wan answered. “She’s at Indinoor currently, I understand she has security arrangements made with Count Dooku.”

“How much security can he provide?” Pre replied. “He’s about to go to war.”

“My concerns, exactly.” Obi-Wan said. “Obviously, the last thing Mandalore or the galaxy needs right now is another war. I’m here to ask for your cooperation while we conduct the investigation. Right now the attack seems to have been ideologically motivated, but the assassin cleared every background check. Most likely she became radicalised to Mandalorian revanchist ideals after entering the Duchess’s employment.”

“I see.” Pre frowned. “What can I do to help?”

“At the moment, I was hoping you would give us access to government archives here on Mandalore. I don’t expect we’ll find anything, but of course I try to be thorough in my investigations.”

“Of course.” Pre agreed. “Is there anything else?”

“For now that will be all. Despite my associate, it's been a pleasure. In the future I’ll contact your office, I understand these are busy days for you.”

After giving his polite goodbyes, Obi-Wan left and soon Quinlan Vos fell into step next to him. “Did you find anything useful?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’ll say.” Vos grunted. “Mister Prime Minister over there is leading a double life. Didn’t get long enough to see everything, but over the last few months he’s been spending half his time with some kind of super-commando cell.”

“Huh.” Obi-Wan frowned. “That’s not a good sign.”

“He’s also abducted and executed three different people.” Vos added. “As in, he executed them personally. With what looked like a black lightsaber.”

Obi-Wan turned to look at Quinlan, eyebrow raised. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “Does your psychometry work even though he was shielding his mind? I wasn’t able to get a good read on him.”

“Ah, you know how it is, Obi. For just about any Force technique, someone can develop a counter, but psychometry is such a rare ability that almost no-one is going to take the time to find a way to fight it, let alone practice it.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Well, at any rate it seems we’ve confirmed the Vizla clan’s involvement. Things shouldn’t be too difficult from here. If Satine gives the order, we can draw on local law enforcement, have the whole lot of them arrested, and be out of here within the week.”

“A week?” Vos looked at him. “You said it yourself, Obi, we don’t have time. We’ve got four Jedi here, and we can move on Vizla’s commando camp without any of them knowing a thing. I say we go for the throat, and rip the whole operation out in one good, clean bite.”

Obi-Wan considered his suggestion, before sighing. Unfortunately, Vos was right. A clean sting would see everyone involved arrested by local law enforcement while they were all separated and unable to help each other. Simultaneous, targeted raids all across the planet and its moons, sweeping all perpetrators up in one swoop. The problem with that was a much bigger war was on the verge of breaking out right now, and even worse the Prime Minister was involved. There was every chance local enforcement could be in league with him, and even if they weren’t, just the sheer amount of time it would take to prepare the operation made it unfeasible when every hour counted.

“Alright.” Obi-Wan sighed. “When you’re right, you’re right. I’ll call Anakin and Prialla. We’re all going to Concordia.”

---

So, Death Watch had this base set up. There were some guards, and it was on the dark side of Concordia. Not the Dark dark side, like the Force Dark Side, but the ordinary dark side as in not illuminated by the sector’s yellow star. Prialla wished she knew more than that, she really did, but that was about all she could tell from behind the three Jedi who blocked her view, and it wasn’t like she could admit that to them. They all had their binoculars, as they peaked out from behind a boulder, their butts blocking her view. Asking them to move felt a bit… pushy. Especially given her diminutive stature, literally and figuratively.

The three of them just… wouldn’t get it. She liked Quinlan, she thought Anakin seemed pretty nice, and Obi-Wan was an awful jerk, but the one thing all three of them had in common, other than being way taller than her, was that they all had a reputation on their side. Quinlan was a famed investigator and dark horse, Obi-Wan was practically a living legend even before he became a Jedi Knight, and then Anakin was the Chosen One! Prialla didn’t let it bother her, but she couldn’t help but feel like maybe Dooku would have sent another heavy hitter if this mission was so important? So obviously, this mission just wasn’t important.

It wasn’t just that she had shorter legs than the three and had fallen behind them as they hiked over a mountain to creep up on the enemy camp, and it wasn’t even the fact that all three of them had a stronger connection to the Force than her. At a hundred fifty centimetres, Prialla was incredibly short, and a lifetime of exercise combined with a small diet had kept her slim. She practiced hard at the lightsaber, really she did. As a teacher at the Indinoor Temple, everyone respected her advice and her input, and that was great and all, but she knew that when Dooku wanted something dangerous or important handled, she wasn’t going to be the one he turned to.

People just didn’t take her seriously. And she wasn’t stupid enough to demand to be taken seriously, because childhood experience had told her that would definitely not work. All she could do was acknowledge that it was frustrating that Dooku had sent her here with Quinlan to keep the Coruscant Jedi busy, and move on.

With a sigh, Prialla reached out with her mind, checking over the camp in the Force, seeing as how she wasn’t able to look at it with her eyes. All the guards had been trained in mental protection and had their mental shields up, but the ones sleeping in the barracks had left their dreams exposed. There was another section of the compound, separate from the barracks where another mind was sleeping.

Prialla would have moved on, but something tickled the back of her mind, and she lingered on the loner. 

She waited, listening for a few moments, until she froze in surprise. That was a kid in there!

Scowling, she got to her feet and began to walk off when she hesitated. She glanced back at the three Jedi giants, watching the camp and planning their infiltration.

Eh, whatever. It’s not like they’ll need me for anything.

If there was one thing good about being small, it was that most people failed to notice when you left.

--- 

The three Jedi didn’t know where Prialla went, but they were able to guess that it was probably somewhere inside the camp. Spurred into action, they now moved together, crossing down the rugged hillside to the enemy camp in just a few seconds, and leaping over the walls into the camp one after the other without alerting anyone.

They shared their thoughts and intentions with each other in the Force, deliberately. They didn’t need to talk or make hand signals, when as one they weaved from shadow to shadow, perfectly evading the enemy as they did. No alert went up, no alarm was tripped. They passed the wide open courtyard and vehicle pool, slipping inside the barracks with no one the wiser.

They passed soundlessly through the bunks of sleeping commandos, which they knew would be no trouble because the Mandalorians weren’t protecting their thoughts in their dreams. They stepped through a mess, and then down a long, tubing corridor, following directions from Obi-Wan. He was able to read the Mandalorian alphabet, and led them into an office before pulling the door shut behind him.

Anakin honestly thought the whole run had been thrilling. “What now?” He asked in a low hush, excited.

“Quin.” Obi-Wan directed, pointing towards a computer in the middle of the room.

Quinlan Vos stepped over to it, then rested his hands on the keyboard. He frowned after a moment, then shook his head. “Nothing useful. It’s not Pre Vizla’s computer. The commander of the base is the one who uses it.” Then he squinted and frowned. “They arrested her for some reason. At gun point.”

The two older Jedi made eye contact. “Then it sounds like she’s who we want to talk to.” Obi-Wan suggested. Then he looked at Anakin, and hesitated.

Anakin recognised that look immediately. It was the, ‘Anakin, stay here’ look. The one that meant Obi-Wan had some busy work for him, just to keep him out of trouble. Even here, even now, in the middle of an enemy camp, Anakin still wasn’t trusted.

“Let’s go!” Anakin interrupted, before Obi-Wan could issue his order. He hurried for the door, and ignored the hand Obi-Wan placed on his shoulder. 

“Anakin, wait-”

But he was already out the door.

It wasn’t long until the two of them fell in step behind him. Obi-Wan rushed to catch up. 

“Anak-”

“I think I feel her up ahead.” And it wasn’t even a lie. Across the open yard there was a single building standing by itself, with what looked like ray shields set up over its windows and the main door. Inside, there was a single mind, furious and despairing at the same time. If he’d been betrayed and imprisoned by his friends, Anakin imagined he might feel the same way as well.

A ship flew overhead suddenly, spinning in mid-flight as it did. Anakin barely registered that it was a gunship, before the Force warned him and he threw himself to the side, rolling as he did. A flash of yellow gold lanced into the ground where he’d been standing just a second ago and there was a rush of heat and light that propelled Anakin off his feet. He shielded himself from it with the Force even as he was launched at the wall of the camp. He was going too fast, he was going to hit the wall and scatter like a plate of his mother’s slow roasted black melon bantha shoulder. The Force couldn’t slow him in time, so he pushed down and just barely cleared the wall to be launched beyond the camp perimeter. After that he was able to slow his fall, and landed in the grass on his feet, staggering a few steps to bleed his momentum.

It had all happened in less than a second. Anakin blinked in shock, patting himself down and finding no cuts or blood from fragmentation. In his mind, he quickly replayed the fraction of a moment that had passed, and realised that gunship had shot at him with a rocket. There hadn’t been time to block against it or defend himself, just-

Another warning in the Force ran through his mind, and Anakin spun, drawing his lightsaber as he did. The blaster bolt bounced off his blade and right back into the throat of the Mandalorian who fired it, passing perfectly between his armour plates and killing him instantly. Their jetpack cut as their fingers came off the controls, and they plummeted to the ground with a wet crunch, blaster falling from their fingers.

There were more of them coming. They shot at Anakin, and he ducked and weaved, deflecting the shots back that he could, while staying just barely ahead of them. The Fore wasn’t sending him sudden warnings, it was fully in conversation with him. In the heat of the battle, the Mandalorians had dropped their mental shields, and between their clear intentions and the Force’s guidance, Anakin was able to stay ahead of their attacks. One of them raised their wrist, and Anakin saw the fire coming from it even before she pressed the button to spray him with burning gelatin. All it took was a dot of focus from the Force, and the liquid fire was blocked from its ejection port. The Gelatin dribbled out over the woman's hand, and she screamed, flicking her hand out as if to shake the fluid off, before she fell to the ground to try to peel off her armoured glove.

One of the mandalorians fired a rocket from his wrist directly at Anakin, but he spun out of its path and seized it with his mind. He spun, directing the missile in an arc before whipping it back around into the Mandalorian who fired it. The explosion blasted the man from the sky, his mind winking out in the force.

The remaining Mandalorian who had been shooting at him hesitated, and Anakin took the moment to look around. Back over the compound wall, he saw what looked like flashes of light, but he couldn’t see what was happening inside.

Annoyed, Anakin reached out, and grabbed the wall, before pulling it towards himself. The fence flipped forward, slamming into the ground with a loud crash, revealing Obi-Wan and Vos fighting, green and blue swords flashing back and forth with dozens more mandalorians flying in to join the frey.

Then the group looking to attack Anakin all peeled away at once, as the gunship spun around to face him. Death was coming his way, and Anakin bolted to the side as fast as he could to get out of the path of the storm of automatic blaster rounds that raked across ground towards him. Some blaster bolts were just too big to block, or they came too closely clumped for his lightsaber to be everywhere it needed, and the shots from the gunship were both. The landscape behind Anakin was torn to shreds by the loud blare of blaster fire, each loud ping of a shot coming so fast and close together it almost sounded like an ear rending siren call. Anakin threw himself up, backflipping over the arc of fire and threw his lightsaber at the cockpit. It lanced through the air, and pierced straight through the transparisteel into the chest of the pilot. 

The ship spun out of control, smashing into the ground and carving a line in earth. With a tug on the Force, Anakin pulled on his lightsaber, drawing it back to his hand, before charging to the compound to join with Vos and his master. 

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan cried out, relief in his voice. “I should have known you’d be fine, you were always a great flier.”

“You know me, Master. I just can’t keep my feet on the ground.” 

Vos barked out a laugh.

Covering each other, the three backed away, as the fire from the Mandalorians stopped. Not because they were all defeated, but because they seemed to realise that firing at the clumped Jedi was dangerously counter productive. They milled about, in the air and on the ground, keeping their distance while trying to come up with a plan.

“We’re lucky these aren’t real super commandos.” Obi-Wan grunted.

“What are they?” Anakin asked.

“I don’t know, but they don’t have beskar.”

“So what do we do?” Anakin asked.

“We’ll do what we were already planning to do.” Obi-Wan answered. Grab the prisoner, grab a ship, and let’s get out of here with what information we can.

Vos nodded in agreement. “Boy, can you get one of those parked ships running?”

Anakin glanced at one of the parked gunships. “Yeah.” 

“Then I’ll cover you. Kenobi, get the prisoner.”

They nodded, then split apart, rushing in different directions.

Trying to carve his way into the ship was a bad idea when they wanted to fly it, so Anakin pulled out his compad and started to slice his way into the loading ramp. As he worked, the Force sent him numerous warnings about shots headed his way, and he struggled to keep himself from flinching each time as Quinlan Vos deflected each shot. It felt like it took much longer than it really did, barely thirty seconds in reality, but finally the ship’s computer relinquished control to Anakin, and he lowered the ramp.

Inside the cock pit, he froze at the sight of the controls. They weren’t like anything he was trained on. There were countless layouts for starship cockpits across the Galaxy, and Anakin had never seen this particular variant before. Worse still, it was labeled in the Mandalorian alphabet, which he couldn’t read.

“Anakin?” Vos called back to him from the ship's ramp, sensing his hesitation.

There was nothing for it. Anakin had always had a gift for machines, now was the time to use it. Letting the Force flow through him, he quickly began to work the controls, only really dimly aware of what he was doing. The ship’s engines roared to life, and its shields flicked on. Vos backed up the ramp, as small arms fired bounced from the ship.

“Get us in the air! We’ll circle back around for Kenobi.”

Anakin nodded, eyes half closed as the ship shot forward into the sky. Behind him he heard Vos stagger and fall with a curse, but ignored it. He couldn’t tell if it was the Force warning him, or the ship’s sensors,  but somehow he knew that the enemy had reinforcements incoming. Below in the base, Anakin felt Obi-Wan running, arms straining as he carried the armoured form of a woman, and smoothly turning the ship as hard as it safely could inside an atmosphere, before banking it down and swooping low.

Obi-Wan lept perfectly, rolling on the landing ramp and was helped aboard the ship by Vos. The woman he was carrying was red-haired, green eyes and a face covered in freckles and bruises. Definitely one of these mandalorians, judging by the armour. 

“Where’s Prialla?” Anakin asked.

They all looked at each other, and Anakin growled. He pulled the ship straight and accelerated away, reaching out with his mind to find her, but she was gone. Was she dead? He hadn’t heard her cry out for help or sensed her death. She must have been shielding her mind, trying to hide from them.

“I’ll call her.” Vos said, taking out his holocom. He dialed her number, and it rang once, twice, three times before she finally answered. 

“Guys! You’ll never believe what I found!” The words rushed out, excited to the point of giddiness, though her image wasn’t being displayed.

“Prialla, where are you?” Vos demanded.

“Walking away from the camp. Back the way we came. Towards the ship. It’s still parked there, right?” Sorry, got you on handsfree, my arms are full.” She huffed out, breathing hard, like she was carrying something particularly heavy.

The three of them looked at each other. “It should be.” Vos agreed. “Where did you go? What did you find?”

“Well, I sensed a young mind in the Force. Like a child, right?” The sound of Prialla’s footsteps stopped, as she was gasping for breath. She turned on her holocom, and Prialla’s image was displayed. Standing right at her shoulder was a teenage boy that it took Obi-Wan a second to recognise. “See?”

“Korkie Kryze?” Obi-Wan asked. “What in the blazes are you doing here?”

“The Prime Minister told me I need to go with him.” He answered. “For my own protection.”

“Good work.” Obi-Wan breathed out. “I’m sure his testimony will be useful for bringing the Prime Minister to justice.”

“That’s not even the best part!” Prialla said, turning her body so the load she was carrying became visible. She was carrying the torso of a droid, one that had its arms and legs missing. “TC-72, tell them what you told me.”

“Oh, thank the makers.” The droid said in a female voice, relieved. It looked a lot like Anakin’s old protocol droid, but had plasma scorches, and a single one of its metallic eyes was hanging out. “I thought I was going to be destroyed! These barbaric mandalorians stole my arms and legs! For fun!”

“No, not that!” Prialla said. “Tell them the other thing that you told me.”

“I was sent here to help my Master- Former Master now- Pre Vizla negotiate for and translate with some of the smaller Mandalorian clans, who speak more obscure dialects of old Mandalorian-”

“Right, but who sent you?”

“Well, I was just getting to that. I was purchased by Zitt Flabb of the Trade Federation’s Office of Interdepartmental communications, and was gifted to Pre Vizla along with a sum of ten million credits.”

Anakin paused, blinking at that, looking over at Obi-Wan even as Vos broke out into a wide grin. 

“Great work, Prialla!” Vos said. “Get back to our ship as fast as you can. We’ll do some circling up here to try and keep the heat off you.” Then he hung up.

There was silence in the cabin for a long few moments. 

“...Any chance I can persuade you to hold off on making your report to Dooku until the investigation is completed?” Obi-Wan asked.

Vos just laughed.

---

“Warfleets are massing along the Hydian, as the Outer Rim Reform Alliance and the Trade Federation prepare to go to war. This comes just hours after an explosive confrontation between Senator Amidala and Senator Wurmnar. The Trade Federation has crammed more than two thousand ships into the nearby Zygerrian System, with even more expected to join them soon. Meanwhile the Alliance has been playing things a little closer to the chest, trying to conceal their exact numbers, but are clearly gathering ships in the Serenno System, right at the edge of their territory. We’ll be bringing you live updates as we learn more.

To get a comment on the brewing conflict now, we go to our expert, a lecturer on Military History at Coruscant University, Professor Pulg Ottihs joins us here in the studio. Professor Ottihs, what would it mean for the Galaxy as a whole if the Alliance and the Federation were to go to war?”

“A war between the two would have a profound effect, not just on the Outer Rim, but even here in the Core. I would like to highlight three things, if you’ll let me?”

“Please, go ahead.”

“First of all, we’re going to see a noticeable jump in the prices of all goods and services, everywhere. Most of the products we use and the food we eat in the Core Worlds are produced in the Mid Rim from raw goods transported there from the Outer Rim, much of it by companies headquartered in the Corporate Sector. Stressing those supply lines as materials are diverted for the war will cause shortages for consumers.

“Secondly, it has to be emphasized that this wouldn’t be a small, regional affair. Both the Alliance and the Federation have heavily industrialised worlds, such as Botajef and Eitti IV, and both have been expanding their fleets to the point where they can field thousands of warships. If a war does break out between the two it would be the largest war the Galaxy has seen in a thousand years. The death toll could easily be in the millions, if not billions.

“Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, it’s an extremely dire sign of the state of the Galactic Senate. It seems apparent that both sides believe their concerns will not be addressed by the Senate, and that our government is in fact so weak, and so ineffectual, that they will face no serious consequences, regardless. Speaking quite honestly, if this war is allowed to play out, what’s to stop other opportunistic actors attempting the same thing in other parts of the Galaxy? We could be seeing similar conflicts breaking out everywhere, potentially even here in the Core. Empress Teta and Alsaka have been at loggerheads for some time now, and both are right on our doorstep.”

“So, if you had any advice to give to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, what would it be?”

“You need to take the gloves off. Centralise emergency powers in the office of the Supreme Chancellor, and crack some skulls until they stop. Whatever their issues are can be sorted out once our authority has been reasserted. As costly as it might be, the consequences of a war would be worse. I think-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Professor Pulg, but we have breaking news. The Outer Rim Reform Alliance has issued a formal declaration of war against the Trade Federation, while the Senate sat in stunned silence. Senator Petvid of Raxus Secundus presented evidence to the floor that he says proves the Trade Federation offered financial and military support to a Mandalorian Revanchist group called the Death Watch, who attempted to assassinate Duchess Satine of Mandalore as part of an attempted coup that would destabilise the Alliance. On the ground in Mandalore, we’re receiving reports of street level fighting as various clans declare themselves for or against the current government. At this moment in time, we don’t know who the factions are, or the scale of the conflict, but already it is being considered a state of civil war. 

“Meanwhile, across the Outer Rim we are receiving reports of large ship movements, as both the Federation and the Alliance are dispatching their fleets. We’ve yet to hear of any battles taking place, but at this point it seems that it’s only a matter of time.”