A/N: Not sure if I'm making this part of Sentinels, or if I'm doing multiple books for this one, or what, but here's another bit of Jix and Deena Starrik's story. This bit is about 10BBY, for you timeliners out there.
THE SHADOWS OF CORELLIA
The woman pulled her hood tighter against the wind and rain as a thunderclap echoed against the highrises of Coronet City. A pair of Stormtroopers walked past through the rain, unaware of her presence. In the rain, her old Jedi robe was as innocent and inconspicuous as a street vendor's umbrella. It was... normal. Essentially what she'd become lately. It was a neccessity of her exile, to blend in with the citizenry of the Empire. With the sudden fall of the Jedi after Master Kenobi's defeat of General Grievous, she'd been forced on the run. So had Jix. So had every other Jedi lucky enough to have escaped betrayal by the armies assigned to them. She frowned as the white armored enforcers moved around a corner and out of sight. Wondered if she'd known them. It was unlikely. The clones of the 721st Legion wouldn't be in the field now, not after so long. Assuming any of them were still alive. The Republic had never treated them as citizens, and from what she'd heard and seen the Empire certainly didn't improve on Republic policies.
There was a flash of lightning followed by another clap of thunder, and she counted the distance to herself mentally. Not that she couldn't sense where the lightning had struck, but it helped to pass the time. The rain was coming down harder now, and she decided began to close up her stall. There was little point in being open. Storms were not uncommon on Corellia, and especially at this season. But the economy as of late did not support shopping. Deena sighed, turning away as a passing hovercar sent street water splashing over the footwalk. It was fortunate, she mused, that high boots were common these days.
The Imperial crackdowns on smuggling in the system had had there effect on things, but she knew that wasn't why the economy had gotten so bad lately. Cor-Sec had always been at war with the smugglers, and that battle went back and forth like a low-G power-ball match. What really had things messed up, was all the taxes and tarrifs. The Empire wouldn't let ANYTHING move without getting a cut. A cut significantly higher than the Republic had demanded for shipping taxes. It was almost as bad here as it had been in the Corporate Sector.
'So much for improving my circumstances,' she thought sourly to herself.
It seemed difficult to be happy these days. There were fewer and fewer causes for joy in the galaxy as the years wore on. The Corporate Sector ran things as they pleased, with little in the way of real justice, and the Empire... she shook her head.
'Should taken the Rim transport.'
She pulled down the awning and locked the stall block. There was another clap of thunder, and Deena Starrik disappeared into the shadows of Corellia.
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Ten seasons. That's how long it had been since everything went to Sithspawn. He didn't count the War as a problem, he never had. As far as he was concerned, without the Sith orchestrating it, they'd never have been able to find them anyways. The problem was that the council was too closed minded. If they couldn't sense it, it wasn't worth serious consideration. He'd tried to tell them. The Force wasn't always open, it sometimes required one to play it's games. To think. Puzzle things out. To use your head. Master Fisto had joked to him that 'Hypocracy was of the Dark Side.' Jix smirked. He'd always liked Master Fisto. The Nautolan Jedi had the best sense of humor in the order. Had. No longer present tense, but past. Just like all he'd fought for.
Jix Starrik would have taken up a blaster or a lightsaber, or anything else, in half a heartbeat if he thought it would do any good. But without an army, without more to fight with him, it would only serve to get him killed, and fuel the Imperial Propaganda Machine. At least they'd stopped talking about the 'evil plots of the Jedi.' That had been more than he could stand. People were so easily turned. So seeking. The Jedi had been heroes one day, villains the next. Hunted and killed, and people had celebrated every holonet newscast with a Jedi body in it. Now the Empire taxed them, opressed them, took their freedoms and their livelihoods, and stripped them of their families and their lives, and so they began to whisper of the 'noble Jedi knights.'
His boots crossed, he rocked in his hammock, taking his hands from behind his head and letting them hang over the sides to brush against the floor. A hero again, for all the good it did him. He imagined what would happen if he drew his lightsaber and ignited it in a public street on Corscaunt. He'd be gunned down before he could deflect the first bolt. An alarm shook him from his reverie, and he kicked himself for not having paid more attention. A head popped through the door.
"Hey, Bak's! Gettathestick!"
Jix slid out of his hammock in the hold of the Freighter Cabin Fever and started for the cockpit at a trot.
"Get back in the oven, Grith." He cracked, shouldering past the alien engineer on his way out.
Entering the cramped control center of the ship, he slid into his seat and took in the control readouts. Grabbing the three levers that controlled the ship's hyperdrive, he eased them back and brought her into realspace. A smirk crept onto his face as their destination world rushed up to fill the viewport.
"Attention YT-1300, this is the Corellian Port Authority. We have you on our grid, please identify."
"This is the frieghter Cabin Fever, requesting direction to Coronet Sub-Port 13."
"Purpose of your docking?"
"Offload cargo and shore leave for the crew."
"Berthing approved, be informed you'll be required to submit to mandatory cargo checks before landing and offloading. Background checks may be administered before shore leave is granted. Transmitting your pattern now."
"Copy that, Control. Cabin Fever out."
