PROLOUGE:
Coruscant - 9 BBY.
The residents of Coruscant's undercity were well accustomed to a certain level of chaos. Loud noises, clutter, the hustle and bustle of millions and millions of beings (human and otherwise) living and working together – to anyone from the upper levels, it would seem almost claustrophobic, but for the dwellers of Level 1801, it was completely , tonight was anything but ordinary, even by undercity standards. Thousands upon thousands of sentient beings – human, Zabrek, Bith, Twi'lek, Iktotchi, Zabrek and more, all gathered together in protest of the Empire's decision to impose trade sanctions on several Outer Rim worlds, as well as restrictions on who could travel to these worlds. The 'Separatist and Insurgency Suppression Act' prevented any world under Imperial control from sending supplies to a number of Outer Core worlds, including Dantooine, Ryloth, Utapau and numerous other, smaller planets which relied almost entirely on supplies from Core planets in order to surve. Furthermore, under the Act, only Imperial personnel could travel to these worlds on official business, effectively preventing the off-world natives of these planets from returning home.
Emperor Palpatine had insisted that it was a "temporary measure in response to increased aggression from a number of Separatist holdout governments in the Outer Rim".
The travel ban had left millions stranded, unable to return to their home planets. Reports had surfaced of entire cities starving to death and holofilms depicted near post-apocalyptic conditions for those who managed to scrounge enough supplies to live for even a short while. As always though, the Empire had brushed the reports off as mere conjecture and the holofilms off as sensationalist fabrications.
Unfortunately for the Empire, the citizens of Level 1801 weren't concerned with any official statements. The primarily non-human population of the slum had converged en masse to protest the Empire's new measures and it wasn't long before they had reached a collective boiling point.
What had once been a loud, unified series of chants demanding aid to the Outer Rim soon morphed into an angry, incoherent roar. Windows were smashed, service droids torn apart, anti-Imperial graffiti was scrawled across buildings and the aggression was only increasing.
A wall of Imperial riot droids advanced on the rioters from all sides, deflector shields raised.
"Disperse," the droids intoned in unison, "Or you will be detained in the name of the Empire".
The crowd refused to move, pelting the droids with garbage and bits of scrap. Despite the order to leave the area, the tight phalanx of droids made it impossible to escape even if they wanted to.
Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of blaster fire rang out, cutting through the cacophony of the rioting and turning an already tense situation into one of pure, unadulterated mayhem. Squadrons of Stormtroopers, who had been hidden in the buildings and on the rooftops parallel to the rioters, opened fire into the crowd, turning waves of protesters into unrecognisable charred husk in the blink of an eye. Despite the considerable strength of the riot droids, the sheer mass of terrified beings all pushing and clawing their way through the phalanx caused the droids to topple over, allowing rioters to escape.
The fortunate ones were able to scurry down alleyways and find cover in buildings, however those who remained on the street were quickly executed by the squadrons of Imperial foot soldiers that began closing in.
From behind the lines of Stormtroopers, a lone figure stood observing the carnage.
"Commander Cordus," a Stormtrooper asked, "Should we hunt down the remaining troublemakers?"
Physically, senior Commander Gren Cordus was not an imposing figure; a human male in his late 50s, with a thinning head of dark hair of average height and build was not a rare sight for the inhabitants of the Core Worlds. If not for his white Imperial uniform, it would be easy for one to assume that he was not a high-ranking Imperial at all. Rather than carry himself with an air of self-importance, as displayed by many high-ranking imperials, he had the demeanour not unlike a Muun banker – reserved, stoic and seemingly devoid of any and all emotion.
"No, focus on finding those remaining thieves," the Commander replied, in his usual slow, methodical tone. "They mustn't be allowed to get off Coruscant alive."
Despite his cold exterior, even Commander Cordus couldn't help but feel concerned. If the rebels were able to uncover the secrets behind what they had stolen, it could mean the end of the Galactic Empire.
And if the Emperor or Lord Vader were to discover what had been stolen, it could mean the end of Commander Cordus himself.