Prologue: Journal

Prologue

Journal

 


        The War continues to rage.

        It has been 3 years since that fateful day at Geonosis, when the Clone Wars erupted out onto the stars, and things just never end... and it doesn't seem they ever will. The War's only raged for 3 years now, but it feels like an eternity. Nothing exciting ever happens on the Prosecutor.

        Well, that's sort of a lie. One exciting thing did happen to the vessel, but no one aboard it now were around when it happened. Trandoshan hunters attacked the Prosecutor while it was on patrol in the Corelliean sector, protecting trade routes, with the goal of selling it to the Seperatists so they can buy a legion's worth of droids to launch an invasion of Kashyyyk. The plan failed as Delta Squad, a group of Commandos that called the Prosecutor their home, raided the captured ship, clearing out the Trandoshans and the droids with aid from whatever handful of Clones were able to survive the initial attack and, with aid from the Arrestor, destroyed a Lucrehulk. 

        After that, the Prosector was sent back to Rothana Heavy Engineering for a complete tune up, overhaul, washdown, and refits. The Trandoshans did a major number on her, and Delta Squad's boarding actions didn't help much either. But the ship eventually returned to wartime status, with a completely new crew. The ship now felt alien to Delta and they left, never returning to the ship, and i don't blame them; everyone they knew was now dead, and the scant few handful of survivors, they don't know them, so why stick around?

        But it would seem that someone at Republic High Command was afraid of a repeat of history, or they didn't want to get rid of their secret trade deal, and so ordered the Prosecutor to Bespin, which was nowhere near the frontlines. The mission: to protect the planet from any and all threats... least that's what the mission profile suggested, but barely anything happens on Bespin.

        The Prosecutor's main base of operations was Galfaste Station, a refueling and trading platform that's not even close to the majesty that is Cloud City, or even close to its size, but it has been home to the Clone contingent and its Jedi General for the last 7 months now... and it is boring. 7 months, and the most exciting thing we've done was break up a tiny smuggling operation.... that's it. 

        By the Force, is this assignment boring. We--

 

        A knock at the door forced the Clone that was writing his memoirs to look up. He had a couple of tear-drop tattoos under his eyes, along with bright blonde hair on top. "Hey, Night Light. General Gray wants to see you. Says its urgent." 

        Urgent? Here? It's probably going to be the wife of a worker who lost their pet again. At least it breaks up the monotony, albeit briefly. "Alright, i'll be there in a moment." Night Light responded. As he got up from the desk he was at, he looked at his memoirs and decided to finish up; he had a few more sentences to go anyways. 

 

        As boring as this place is, 'there is one positive side: nobody has to share bunks. There are so many high rises here, every Trooper pretty much has his own space to be his own, and with killer views. It also gives the people living and working here a extra sense of security knowing the Republic's finest is just a door away. Though what i would give to get some new armor...

 

        With that addition added, he opened the desk drawer, put the tablet in, then shut it. he then grabbed his Phase 1 Helmet off the desk and headed out the door, holding it under his arm.

        As Night Light walked out into the busy city streets of this world in the clouds, he saw how chipper the locals looked and how happier and more productive they've been since the Prosecutor had been stationed here. It may be boring here, but it's a peaceful boring for these folks, and frankly, isn't that what this war is about: to bring this back to people on the planets affected by all this?

        As he approached the Overseers Tower, he thought of something more he would put into his memoir when he got back to his room:

        'I suppose anyone reading this would want some description about Galfaste Station; working off of trading post wouldn't exactly be description enough. Well, Chinook isn't as big when compared to its cousin Cloud City. The floating city only has a diameter of three kilometers and a height of five- 1 and a half due to the city itself, and the rest thanks to that spire coming out the bottom; tiny compared to the massive 16 kilometer radius and 17 kilometer height of Cloud City, but at least it retains the trademark beauty Bespin's floating cities are known for. And it's large enough for the Prosecutor and the Halafax, the Pelta assigned to Galfaste with us, to land on and have Walkers on constant patrol. It helps keep the peace... but the Acclamator takes up almost half the space of the city, so some are a bit... perturbed, to say the least.'

        Minutes later, Night walked into the Overseers office and saluted his general, who was looking out at the cityscape. "You wanted to see me, General Grey?"

        The General in question was a grizzled man in his late 40's, with his hair and facial hair already turning grey. "Yes, i did." Falon said. He went to his chair while gesturing to the one on the other side of the desk. "Sit." And Night did, sitting a few seconds before Falon did. "I've been hearing rumors from some of the locals."

        "What rumors, sir?"

        "About another smuggling operation."

        "Another one?" But that should be impossible- they have a constant eye on all the proceedings here. 

        "Yes. The information first came from Digger; he's been hearing rumors about a smuggling ring down in the lower depths. Then several more residents came in, saying they've been seeing shady and new people around the city. Add to that recent shipments and quotas of Tibanna going missing, it seems likely."

        "But we just took down a smuggling operation, sir."

        "I know we did, but that was 2 months ago, and... this one feels different. The one we dealt with before were just scammers trying to make a quick buck on the black market with contraband items, not stealing Tibanna Gas. I theorize that someone moved in after we took the other ones away and took over the operation, but decided to go slow and small to make sure we don't catch on. And if it is Tibanna they're smuggling, they may be in league with the CIS, or local pirates who want a leg up. Either way, it's something we need to shut down."

        Night knew where this was going: right into a fight. Finally, some action on this floating barge. "Do you want me to take a squad and find out?" He asked, hiding his eagerness.

        "No." And now the eagerness is gone. "At least not yet." Halfway back? "For now, all these are are rumors. Going in to some random spot, guns blazing, will only sully our reputation here. The last ring we took down came at the cost of one of the buildings in the skyline." Yeah... that was a nasty outcome. Who knew they were smuggling oil? Falon, however, could see the disappointment in the Clones eyes, and he knows why. "I know how bored everyone is here, Night. Even i'm bored of this place, but you and i both know that itchy trigger fingers can have bad outcomes, especially if this new ring is in a high population section."

        As much as Night would love to fire his blaster, Falon has a point. Besides, they're bred to protect these people, not put them in harms way. "That is a valid point, sir. Any suggestions?"

        "I do have one." With a push of a button, a hologram of a Keteerian appeared in the center of the table, and beside him a DP20 Frigate. "I've contacted our old friend Brigand; he'll be here tomorrow with a shipment for his flea market. I convinced him to aide us in finding this smuggling ring, as he knows all the inner goings-on on this station, but as i trust Brigand as far as you can throw him, i need you to go with him."

        A sound plan, if not for one problem, "But won't they suspect something is off when they see me, sir?"

        "Not if you create a good cover story. You do have a good imagination, after all. Try something simple, yet believable."

        Night thought about his options for his cover story as he got up; he already had a good number to choose from. "I'll get right on that sir. And do anyone else know of this operation?"

        "Just the ones who made the complaints, and i've asked them to remain silent until we have more intel. Other then them, nobody else here knows of this, and let's keep it that way. I did, however, place an order at Lyra's for a simple garb for you to use. It should be ready by tonight, so be sure to stop by there when you get the chance." With a push of the same button, the hologram of Brigand and the DP20 went away. "You're dismissed."

        Night Light saluted, "Sir." then left. While it's not the action mission he was hoping for, there is some thrills in espionage and stealth; the thrill of almost being caught, the heart-pounding excitement of it all... it's different from a firefight, but still a intense ride. At the very least, it's something to do that isn't another patrol. 

        And hopefully after this, they'll get some reeeeeeeal action....

 

 

 

12 days to Knightfall...

 

 

 

Star Wars
Prosecutions