James Yonnagono was never a soldier in the conventional sense. During the Clone Wars, he served the Galactic Republic as an intelligence officer — running informants, analyzing enemy movements, and feeding actionable intelligence to commanders who rarely knew his name. He was good at the work in the way that quietly dangerous people are good at things: without fanfare, without failure.
When the Republic died and the Empire rose in its place, James barely had time to mourn one before the other came knocking. His record had been noticed. Men with his particular set of skills didn't stay unclaimed for long, and the Imperial Security Bureau made him an offer that was really more of a statement. He accepted, believed — as many did in those early years — that order was preferable to the chaos the war had left behind. He was promoted to Major. He was good at the work.
Then came Corellia.
The mission was framed simply: a local syndicate was funneling supplies to an insurgency resisting Imperial land seizures. The Empire needed the territory — shipyards, the brass said. Star Destroyers didn't build themselves. James was tasked with coordinating Imperial Intelligence assets to shut the supply chain down and neutralize the insurgency at its root.
What he found when he dug deeper was harder to file away. The insurgents weren't ideologues or terrorists. They were families — dock workers, small farmers, people whose homes sat on ground the Empire had decided it needed. They had no other place to go. The syndicate wasn't arming a revolution; it was running food and medicine to people the Empire had simply decided didn't matter.
James gave the order anyway. He told himself it was the only move. He told himself someone else would have done it if he hadn't. He filed the report. He watched the smoke.
He spent three days in his quarters after, and on the fourth he walked into a warehouse, let a planted charge go off close enough to scatter his tags across the rubble, and disappeared.

Somewhere behind him, he suspects, is Agent Revik Shan — a former ISB colleague sharp enough and loyal enough that he never fully bought the death. Shan doesn't show up often. But when a lead goes cold in exactly the right way, or when someone who dealt with James turns up quietly arrested, James feels him getting closer. Shan isn't hunting him out of malice. That would almost be easier. He's hunting him because he thinks James broke — and Shan doesn't leave broken things unaccounted for.

Guilt, Trauma from ordering the deaths of local families on Corellia.