Guagenia - Republic Inner Rim Urban World
Year – 6613 BBY
Republic Sector Year – 2834
Total Population – 19.3 Billion
Rolling out of her sleep pod, Senora Telun struggled to get out of bed as over the last four nights, she was barely able to properly sleep because of work. But after a few minutes she groaned and rolled herself out of bed. As she rolled out of bed, she heard an announcement being made from outside.
"….we repeat, avoid the outer ring of District 6 until further notice. A level 3 dissident assembly has been declared by the Republic Security Bureau. Commuters are advised to reroute through lanes B-9 or D-4. This is a safety advisory only. Order is being maintained." The broadcast repeated itself in three languages, which were the top three spoken across the planet. As the announcement looped, the morning light shimmered through the window.
Senora rubbed her eyes. Her name matched that of the city, Senatora, but she never found that charming. Her parents had thought it poetic, being born in Inner Rim of the Republic. But she was a transport logistics supervisor, not a senator. Not a poet, just another underpaid public sector worker praying her credits didn't expire before she could use them.
She went to the kitchen and activated the kettle for some morning refreshment before she heads to work. The walls were thin, allowing her to hear her neighbor in the next unit yelling over a call again. It was the usual, more complaints about Identity Taxation or intuitional species bias. She didn't bother to listen when she heard the yelling and instead tuned it out. Everybody had a cause or outrage in the city, but no one had any damn power to do anything.
A few minutes later, the kettle dinged, and her morning refreshments were ready.
At the same time, an announcement was made which would make her day even more difficult. "Senatora Transit Line 14-C has been suspended indefinitely due to security operations. Please contact your workplace representative for re-scheduling." Her heart sank. "That's my line," she whispered aloud.
She was already three write-ups away from disciplinary review. If she missed another shift, especially today, when shipments were being audited by the Senate Trade Compliance Board, she could lose her job. She quickly grabbed her datapad, tossed on her grey uniform, and slung her transit badge around her neck.
The transit shuttle that she took was jammed with too many bodies. The interior lights flickered every few minutes, just enough to keep people irritated, but not enough to file a repair order. The shuttles flew through the congested lower skylanes as District 4C was already swarming with patrol drones, their flashing lights marking invisible zones no one dared to enter. She glanced at her datapad, scrolling through the news to pass the time.
"Republic Chancellor Declines Proposal to Nationalize Inner Rim Water Trade."
"Senate Ethics Council Opens Inquiry into Unityist Education Funding."
"Jedi Council Affirms Disbanding of Balance-Based Sects: 'Not in Accordance with Republic Stability.'" None of these were things that truly concerned her, but it was always nice to see what was going on.
Across from her, a Bothan youth in a faded student tunic stared at her uniform. He had the face of someone who wanted to say something involving the recent politics of the city. And sure enough, he did. "You work for Distribution Coordination?"
"Transit Logistics," she responded, correcting him.
"So, you reroute shipments away from refugee settlements when the funding doesn't clear?" Senora shook her head.
"No, I file the manifests." The Bothan student still looked at her with disgust.
"That's what they all say." He sneered and turned away.
That was the new currency in Senatora: moral judgment. Everyone worked for a corrupt system. Everyone was complicit. Senora didn't even know if she disagreed anymore. She was just tired.
By the time she reached the Sector 9 Public Works Facility, there were already barricades set up. Lines of protestors stretched down the far plaza, kept back by a wall of peacekeepers. Their signs were mostly digital, projecting slogans blinking mid-air.
"NO TO CRED-LINKED CITIZENSHIP"
"WE ARE MORE THAN OUR DATA"
"CORPORATE JEDI = REPUBLIC LIES"
Ignoring the signs and protests, Senora slid through the back entrance with her ID and entered the building. Inside, the Trade Compliance Board had already arrived. Two men and a woman, all dressed in gold trimmed robes that marked them as 'non-affiliated oversight' agents, were reviewing the delivery queue.
Her supervisor, a pale-skinned Arkanian named Leth Aruun, waved her over with a smirk on his face. "Glad you made it. Try not to get written up again. They're looking for a fall person if the Jedi shipment doesn't clear export by mid-day."
"Jedi shipment?" she blinked.
"Medical freight headed to Coruscant. They're expediting it. If it's even half a minute late, we'll get tagged with a Class-5 delay. Which means internal review. Which means your name gets flagged." Senora sighed as if there was always something causing her problems. She immediately got to work, not wanting to lose her job over something like this. 'Another sleepless night' she thought to herself.
Three hours later, things went from fragile to frantic when the protest outside had grown into a crowd of several thousand. The peacekeepers doubled their ranks in response. A few protesters had tried to throw paint at the checkpoint scanners. One droid had malfunctioned and fired a stun blast into the air, setting off a chain reaction of confusion.
Back in the facility, the shipment meant for Coruscant was still in the loading bay, its cargo was delayed due to a broken routing code. The compliance agents had their eyes all on her now. Her datapad kept beeping with new alerts as the sweat was starting to soak through her uniform.
Behind her, a junior tech whispered, "They're trying to use you as a scapegoat huh."
She nodded her head. "Yeah, it's only a matter of time."
One of the agents approached her. "Supervisor Telun. Why has manifest #XR-49-B not been logged into the Central Nexus?"
She looked at the screen, her heart racing as she scrolled through the datapad. "It's missing a Nexus tag. I've requested override approval."
"That should have been done in advance." retorted the agent.
"I wasn't informed this was a Jedi-priority manifest." Senora tried to explain but the agent wasn't having it.
"You were expected to monitor for it." That word. Multitask; It was often used to say, 'we'll punish you no matter what.' Senora ignored that however and got back to work, not wanting to stir anything else.
By the time the manifest was cleared, the crowd outside had tripled in size and local news drones were capturing the scene.
Leth, her supervisor, made a show of being too busy to help while still hovering near enough to take credit should the shipment miracle itself through. Senora's hands moved over her console, routing, re-checking, and bridging her way through two dozen password prompts. A few minutes passed and she watched as the cargo drone carrying the Jedi shipment left the facility.
Her job was done, now all that was left was her other tasks. The agents had left without saying anything, making her glad that she had escaped from being fired for another day at least. As the day ended, she made her way back to her apartment where she heard another broadcast.
"...the demonstration in District 9 has ended. Several injuries were reported, but peace was restored. The Jedi High Council issued a brief statement affirming support for Republic unity and condemned all forms of anti-institutional action as harmful to the greater galactic good..."
'More propaganda' she thought to herself. The Jedi had become active on the planet over the past few years, which made life somewhat safer, but also difficult. She heard of a time when the Jedi were not that involved in the Republic, but that time had long past.
Besides that, the only thing on her mind was waking up tomorrow and repeating the day over and over again as she did for the past decade.