21 BBY
"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 on the senate floor. The Trade Federation has packed almost two thousand ships into the 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 of what they do to each other. 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."
"Don't go anywhere, after this short break we'll be right back with more breaking-"
The newsreader cut off with the flick of a switch, as Yetter Shaul leaned back in his piloting chair, frowning. He was a zabrak, so even if he didn't exercise much, his high metabolism kept him from growing fat even though his work mostly involved him sitting around all day. He wasn't quite a young man anymore, though probably not middle aged yet. His long brown mop of hair mingled with his scraggly beard, his overgrown horns in serious need of a good sand and polish. Not that appearances mattered for his work, people don't pay long haul pilots because they're pretty.
He was of humble beginnings, like a lot of zabrak born below the surface of Coruscant. It hadn't been an easy life, especially when his father died from an overturned container falling on him while unloading a cargo ship . Yetter had been considering joining a gang to meet ends when the insurance payout came through. It wasn't much, but it was enough to buy piloting lessons for a small starship, and to make a down payment for a loan on his own freighter. After that, Yetter hadn't looked back even once.
For the next ten years he lived as clean as a whistle, moving cargo from one end of the Galaxy to the other. There was always demand for something somewhere, and he was small enough to pick up on little contracts that the bigger companies wouldn't notice. As a hard working owner/operator, his profit margins were pretty narrow, but they were enough to gradually grind down his debt, one payment at a time. For years he resisted the pressure to become a smuggler, until one day the choice was made for him.
He didn't know when it happened, he didn't know enough about galactic macroeconomics to say how, but at some point even the little bit of profit he was making melted away. The cost of hypermatter went up, the cost of new parts went up, the cost of food went up. His little one man operation, with overheads so low you couldn't feed a circuit worm with them, was going broke. He lived with no luxuries to speak of, but for a few cheap cafstims and some holorecordings of a few jizz wailers he liked, and was still somehow sliding into unprofitability. It was infuriating. It was unfair. He stared at that account for hours, stomach churning with discomfort, before finally he was able to accept the truth.
No matter what, he wasn't going back to blasted Coruscant. He tried to be a good man, he really did, but that maze of back alleys and strangers haunted him. So, with a whispered apology to the spirit of his father, he reached out to a friend in the smuggling business, and was soon plugged into the Galaxy spanning circuit of shadowy syndicates and ruthless alien cartels.
Hutts, Pikes, Weequays, Abbysinians, Zygerrians, slavers, pirates, spice dealers, and worse. They all had goods they needed to move from point A to point B without anyone knowing the wiser, and Yetter's clean record was extremely desirable.
Yetter didn't have the stomach for anything truly awful, like moving slaves or spices, but he was able to live with moving stolen goods. Soon enough, his business came to revolve around transporting federation fuel rods, hyper matter, tibanna, and plasma cartridges. There was a massive, surging black market for such goods coming out of the Corporate sector. Honestly, the scale and depth of it had shocked Yetter.
There were standard rates for bribes, available in an itemised table, published instruction booklets on how to avoid standard Trade Federation searches, insurance policies for smuggled goods, perks for preferred clients, you name it. Smuggling various kinds of fuel out of the Trade Federation was a regular cottage industry.
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