The Spy Who Came in from Hutt Space

When you pretended to be a Hutt operative, you needed to look the part. Hutt spies hung out with gangsters, pimps, pushers and hustlers. Sminaa Car needed an outfit that exuded glamour, sleaze and decadence.

The Togruta pulled a purple jumpsuit off the rack. It was covered in shiny sequins. It had a couple of diamonds on the shoulder pads. The jumpsuit was cut off just below the knees. Good, she would need to show off a little leg.

Putting on the jumpsuit, Sminaa left the zip open a little. A female Hutt spy would have some cleavage on display.

Jewelry. The Togruta grabbed a bunch of bracelets and put them on her wrists and ankles. She hung a few chains around her neck. Sminaa glanced in the mirror. She looked every inch like a Hutt operative.

Sminaa left her feet bare. Togruta generally didn't like wearing shoes. Some Togruta living among other species opted to wear shoes, but for Sminaa, the old ways were the best. Hutt spies were not like Black Sun agents in their sharp suits. They looked casual.


**

Sminaa Car had precise instructions as to her rendezvous with the agents from New Republic Intelligence. She would meet them in the backroom of a cantina in Gabol-jaja station.

New Republic Intelligence. Like most Imperials, Sminaa found it difficult mouthing the very words 'New Republic.' They were the Rebel Alliance. They would always be the Rebel Alliance. Calling them the 'New Republic' just gave these jumped-up terrorists and traitors a dignity they in no way deserved.


This was not Sminaa's first contact with the Rebel spies. She had identified a young agent in an hotel in Hutt Space. It had been a simple matter to gain his confidence. Now she had an official rendezvous with the higher ups.

The Togruta smiled as she remembered the naivety of the young Zeltron agent. So eager to believe her story. So keen to get a pretty female on the side of freedom and justice. Of course, he was probably not among the elite of the Rebel agents; operating in Hutt Space was the least desired posting in Intelligence for a Rebel. Some of these young Rebel idiots thought they could pull anything that was female and turn them into a double-agent.


Sminaa stepped into the cantina.

An immensely fat human with curly hair was cleaning the bar surface.

"We're about to close," said the human.

"You're a wonderful human being," said the Togruta.

"Well if you say so," said the fat man. He then opened a doorway and beckoned the Togruta in.

Into the mouth of the Sarlacc. Sminaa knew she was playing a dangerous game. If the Rebel agents even suspected she was playing them, they would not hesitate to kill her. Rebel or Imperial, the agencies dealt with threats the same way. There were no second chances in the Intelligence game.


Sminaa found herself in a large storage cupboard. Cleaning products were hung on the shelves. The fat human came back in and laid down a table and some chairs.

"Do sit down," he said.

Sminaa had never been able to undestand why any human would side with the Rebels. Humans were the dominant species in the Empire. They had the whole Galaxy stitched up under the Empire. Why give up that dominance? If the Empire ever did fall competely, it would be humans that would be the biggest losers. There were plenty of non-humans with a lot of grudges. These Rebel humans might just find the Galaxy getting a lot less friendly to their kind. Maybe they were just idealistic fools with a lot of liberal guilt.

A Mon Calamari wearing a dark suit entered the room. He had the look of a bank manager about him. No doubt he was a senior Rebel operative.

The Mon Calamari sat down, as did the fat human.

"Miss Ahsoka Krey," said the Mon Calamari. "I'm delighted to meet you."

Always polite. That was the way with these topshot spies. But always ready to kill you if you didn't check out.

Sminaa gave a typically gangsterish shrug.

"You know my name. So what's yours?"

"Right now, you don't need to know our names," replied the Mon Cal. "All that matters is that you convince us that you are telling the truth."

"And if I'm not?" asked Sminaa.

"I don't think we need to deal with any unpleasantness now," said the Mon Cal.

"Though maybe the Hutts might have some questions to put to you," said the fat man with a sneer.

"Are you not going to offer me a drink?" asked the Togruta.

"Business first, Miss Krey. You met our operative a week ago. You had some very interesting discussions with him," said the Mon Cal.

"He was cute," said Sminaa, before making a kissy face.

Cute and stupid. Typical Zeltron, thought Sminaa.

"One of the things he asked you for is a list of every Hutt operative you have worked with, every Hutt intelligence boss you have worked for."

"And I did, didn't I?" said Sminaa with a pout.

The Togruta laid back in her chair and planted her bare foot on the table.

"Suffice it to say that if those details had not checked out, we would not be having this conversation, Miss Krey," said the Mon Cal. "We would have reported you to the Hutts and we would have transferred your cute Zeltron friend to the records department."

Sminaa gave him a fanged smile.

It had taken months of work for Imperial Intelligence to gather that information on the Hutt spy rings, but it had paid off.

"So it looks like you really are a Hutt spy," said the fat man.

"You mean, I'm a spy for the Hutts. You look more like a Hutt than I do, fatso," said Sminaa.

The human went red, but said nothing.

Act arrogant. Gangsters were always arrogant and cocksure.

The Mon Cal was eyeing her naked foot distastefully. She knew they both hated her. That was the trick. Get them to feel something about her. If it was a stupid Zeltron, get him to fall in love with you. If it was a smart-suited Mon Cal bastard, you get him to think you're a slut. You get emotional, you start forgetting to analyse the situation.

"Which leads to my big question. If you are a Hutt agent, you must be making an awful lot of money. Hutts maybe vile, but they pay very well. Why are you wanting to betray your very generous employers and offer us your services?" asked the Mon Cal.

Because I'm an Imperial spy and I want to feed you false information, thought Sminaa.

"I may be a gangster, but I have a conscience. What do you think it's like spending your life working for the Hutts? What have I achieved in my life? I've helped keep the spice flowing, the slavers in their jobs, the Hutts getting fatter and I've taken out a few overzealous Imperial officials. Am I supposed to feel proud of that?" asked Sminaa.

The two Rebel agents said nothing.

Sminaa sometimes wondered whether she was proud of what she had done for Imperial Intelligence. The Galactic Empire was ruthless and could be pretty oppressive. She'd had a few sleepless nights about some of her actions in Imperial service. But the galaxy was at war and she had to pick one side.

'If you get into a fight, always pick the winning side.' That was what her father had told her. The Imperials might have lost at Endor, but they were stronger and more organised. They were taking back some of the losses they had suffered. In the long run, the Empire would triumph.

"I know what's at stake today. I've seen the holonews, just like anyone else. You Rebels are fighting to end the Empire. I hate the Empire too. And I'll tell you something else, you Rebels are going to need all the help you can get. The Imperial Remnant are fighting hard. They are getting their act together and they are planning the biggest counter-offensive you can imagine," Sminaa continued.

The Imperial Remnant. That was what they had started calling the Empire's rump state. To any Imperial loyalist it was an offensive term. The Galactic Empire was still the true and legitimate government of the Galaxy. They might be cruel, they might be brutal and they might be prejudiced toward non-humans, but they were strong. Stronger than these Rebels and their 'New Republic' would ever be.

"We appreciate your concern, Miss Krey," said the Mon Calamari.

Smarmy bastard, thought Sminaa.

"I may be a gangster, but I know the history of my people. And I'm proud of it too. The Togruta have raised up more Jedi Knights than any other race. We Togruta were the backbone of the Jedi. For over a thousand years we aided the guardians of the Old Republic," said Sminaa. "I want to stand for that tradition. That is why I want to help you and your New Republic."

Bantha dung, thought Sminaa. Yes, there were plenty of Togruta Jedi in the old days. But not from the Car Tribe. For whatever reason, the Car tribe lacked the same force sensitivity of other Togruta. They had not produced a single Jedi. Other Togruta tribes despised them for it. That was the thing about other races; they never understood tribal politics. They just assumed a Togruta was a Togruta.

"So you stand for the same ideals as we do," said the fat human.

"Yes, and I'm confident you pay as well as the Hutts do. I'm sure that your New Republic can match what I'm getting now and deposit it in a bank whose details I will supply," said Sminaa.

Never try to come across as too idealistic. You are supposed to be a gangster.

"I dare say we could, Miss Krey. But what can you offer us?" asked the Mon Cal.

"Know anything about a certain Grand Admiral Thrawn?" asked the Togruta.

The human raised an eyebrow. The Mon Cal said nothing.

"The new Imperial leader who just turned up from the Unknown Regions. The one whose mobilizing Imperial forces against you as we speak," said Sminaa.

Sminaa knew little about Grand Admiral Thrawn, but what she knew fascinated her. That a non-human could reach high rank in Imperial service was a fascinating prospect. The significance of this for non-humans in the Empire like her was incredible. A Thrawn-led Empire could be one strange and exciting beast.

"We are all in the Intelligence business, Miss Krey. We know what you know," said the Mon Cal.

"He's doing deals with the Hutts. They're supplying him with key information, prize stuff about what's going on in the Outer Rim. Stuff that they know much better than your own people," said Sminaa. "I can supply you with everything that the Hutts are giving him And I can tell you everything they know about him."

"Sounds good, but it's not exactly Glitterstim. The chances are we already know most of this stuff or we could get it from other sources," said the human.

"Well how about the identities of every Imperial agent operating in Hutt Space?" suggested Sminaa.

The eyes of the two Rebel agents seemed to light up.

The Imperials Hutt networks were useful, but they were worth sacrificing. The chance to feed major disinformation to the Rebels was worth every low-grade spy ring in Hutt Space.

The two Rebel agents looked at each other.

"Miss Krey, you give us that information and you are on. I think you'll find working for us is well worth the reward," said the Mon Cal.

For me and the Empire, but not for you, thought Sminaa.

"You will be contacted by one of our operatives. He will direct you as to the transmission of that information. We will check it out. If we think it's reliable then we will continue to do business. If it's Bantha dung, well... You had better get out of Hutt Space very fast," said the fat human.

Sminaa gave him a mocking salute. She rose to leave the cantina. These agents thought she was working for them, but once the false information started flowing, it would be their network that was working for the Imperials. Yet another successful manipulation of the intelligence flow.


If her people could win the intelligence war, then it only remained to be seen what damage Thrawn's unified fleet could do. The 'New Republic' was ripe to be crushed before it had barely been born. These were exciting times for an Imperial agent, even for a Togruta.