Before the Saga Always a Bigger Fish (A Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan Multi-Chapter Mission Story)

@AzureAngel2, thanks so much for commenting. I agree that the Jedi Council could have displayed a lot more wisdom in some of the decisions they made prior to the Sith rise to power, but that sending Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to this world was a good move on their part because as you say both of them are really trying to understand all the different sides of the conflict rather than rushing to rash judgments.

@Mira_Jade, thank you so much for your kind and detailed comment! I'm so flattered that you thought this story was a delight and that it reminded you of the JA books since those were my first introduction to Star Wars books and will always have a special place in my heart for how they focused on Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, two of my all-time favorite Star Wars characters.

So glad that you loved to see the origins of Qui-Gon's famous line and hopefully you enjoy seeing another reference to it in this chapter

Obi-Wan's dry wit is one of my favorite parts of writing about him so I definitely had to include it in this story, and I'm so happy to hear that it's working for you. And it certainly is a lot of fun to write about Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon in this comfortable point in their relationship where they have great affection with one another and enjoy exchanging banter back and forth. Also, yes, Obi-Wan will soon know what's it's like to have a cheeky Padawan.

Yes, I definitely see Qui-Gon as being that calm in the storm as he tries to keep a balanced perspective of all sides so that he can help resolve the political situation on Arieli, and I totally believe that Obi-Wan is drinking all this in, gaining in knowledge until he grows into the great Negotiator as you say.

I think you're spot on when you say that the political situation on Arieli is basically being caught between a rock and a hard place and there are no entirely sympathetic parties but hopefully in the end there will be some signs of hope for Arieli before the Jedi leave the planet.

That line hurt my soul to write, but I'm glad that you appreciated the foreshadowing and how it drove home how young Obi-Wan is and how much he doesn't know what he'll have to endure in the future. Poor Obi-Wan who doesn't know what suffering is in store for him.

I'm so happy to have you caught up with the story, and I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter. Thank you so much for the warm welcome to the fan fiction community here. You and everyone else here has really made me feel comfortable sharing my stuff on these boards, and I'm so grateful for that. Not all communities are so welcoming, so it really does mean a lot to me.

Swimming Upstream

The brown line airbus they took to Lazzaro Quintino’s address was as rusty as the gray line airbus with the same non-functional air cooling system. The only difference between the two airbuses seemed to be the brown line airbus had hard plastoid seats in the unappealing color of human excrement in apparent tribute to the name of its line.

Lazzaro Quintino’s address turned out to be a small conapt in a drab building of gray ferrocrete. Inside the Jedi discovered there was no turbolift so they had to climb up ten flights of steep stairs to reach Lazzaro Quintino’s conapt.

“You’re foreigners.” Lazzaro Quintino greeted them with a scowl, eyes lingering on the Jedi robes that couldn’t be confused with standard Arieli native attire. “What do you want?”

“We’re Jedi.” Qui-Gon bowed. “We want only to ensure the re-count in Ariani proceeds fairly.”

“Then at least you haven’t come to steal the jobs of hard-working native Arieli.” Lazzaro grunted. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re bothering me at my home.”

“We have it on good authority that you’re the leader of the Workers of Ariani Party.” Qui-Gon inclined his head. “If so, we’d like to talk with you about your perception of the situation in Ariani.”

“I’m the founder and the leader of the Workers of Ariani Party.” A rough pride gleamed in Lazzaro’s still stony gaze. “I’ll talk to you about the truth of what’s happening in Ariani and all of Arieli—how politicians on this planet have betrayed hard-working native Arieli in favor of foreign born migrant workers.”

“I look forward to hearing what you have to say.” Qui-Gon followed Lazzaro into the main room of the conapt, shooting a stern glance at Obi-Wan, who had rolled his eyes at Lazzaro’s most recent remark.

“You’ll sweat buckets in here.” Lazzaro plopped into a sofa that appeared to be all broken springs and stains, gesturing for the Jedi to settle into furniture that seemed just as beaten down by time and use. “My family can’t afford an air cooling system on my wife’s scant salary, but we couldn’t pay for it before I was fired for protesting how the big-wigs executives ruined the quality of life for everyday Arieli by bringing in migrant workers to do jobs that had once paid a decent wage for nothing close to a living wage.”

“Most regular citizens of Ariani can’t afford air cooling systems?” Qui-Gon’s forehead furrowed. “Living in the tropical heat must be difficult without air cooling systems.”

“Most regular citizens of Ariani can barely afford to put food in their bellies and a leaking roof over their heads.” Lazzaro snorted. “Most regular citizens of Ariani try to forget the days when it was easy to find a job in the resorts before all the jobs were stolen by migrant workers. Most regular citizens of Arieli try to forget that those jobs paid a livable wage that could support a family. Most regular citizens of Ariani try to forget that when their mothers and fathers were in the workforce, a person could work hard and provide for their family instead of working hard and still not being able to make ends meet for their family.”

“Has it occurred to you that the migrant workers might want to do the same thing you do—work hard and provide for their families—and that’s why they immigrated here to work in the resorts and other places?” Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow in a question mark.

“It doesn’t matter what they want.” Lazzaro looked at Qui-Gon as if Qui-Gon had a ferrocrete brain. “All that matters is the reality of what they’re doing to destroy the lives and families of native Arieli. They’re stealing our jobs and lowering our standards of living by doing work in exchange for a pittance of credits. Life on Arieli was much better before they came in droves.”

“Nevertheless they could be allies to you if they could be persuaded to join you in advocating for better working and living conditions.” Qui-Gon persisted with his point in the face of Lazzaro’s scornful obstinance. “That’s what I sense you truly want to achieve—not removing migrant workers from this planet, but better working and living conditions for everyday citizens.”

“No, I can’t ally with the migrant workers.” Lazzaro began shaking his head before Qui-Gon had finished speaking. “The migrant workers must not be allowed to stay any longer and leech off Arieli’s economy. Arieli must supply its own workers, and Arieli’s economy should be for the benefit of Arieli natives alone.”

“You’re parroting Alcide Cesare’s talking points,” Obi-Wan observed dryly, ignoring the scathing stare Lazzaro fixed on him. “You can’t believe that he truly represents the best interests of regular Arieli workers when he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.”

“He’s a bigwig born to bigwigs.” Lazzaro shrugged. “I hate bigwigs for betraying Arieli, but he’s the only bigwig speaking on behalf of the regular citizens of Arieli. He’s the only voice we have so we must support him.”

“You have a voice with the Workers of Ariani Party you founded.” Obi-Wan tone was calm, steady, and not sarcastic now, and Qui-Gon felt a surge of pride blaze in him as he watched his Padawan. “You don’t have to use it to parrot Alcide Cesare’s talking points. You can use it to advocate for yourself and your own interests, not Alcide Cesare’s.”

“I hadn’t considered that.” Lazzaro’s eyes narrowed as if he were calculating a difficult equation in a new way.

“We’ll leave you to consider that.” Qui-Gon rose and Obi-Wan mirrored him. “When you do, consider that your voice might be stronger if it joined with the Migrant Advocacy Group on certain key issues.”

“I will.” Lazzaro gave a slow nod, a distant expression on his face.

“Then we thank you for your time.” Qui-Gon bowed, his apprentice copying him, and they both stepped out of Lazzaro’s conapt. “We leave in peace.”

“Master?” Obi-Wan sounded hesitant as they walked down the hallway toward the steep stairwell out of the building.

“Yes, Padawan.” Qui-Gon laid an encouraging palm on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, prompting his apprentice to continue.

“I thought that I’d find Lazzaro hateful when I met him because he supports a candidate who spews such xenophobic statements.” Obi-Wan bit his lip. “Yet despite all his scoffing I find him a sad, almost sympathetic being.”

Qui-Gon had a similar impression, but to promote the growth of Obi-Wan’s own perceptions, he asked, “Why did you find him such a sad, almost sympathetic figure?”

“You know how you said when the Council assigned us this mission that Arieli is a big fish in a small pond and we can expect the people to act as if they’ve forgotten that there’s always a bigger fish?” Obi-Wan cast an inquiring glance up at Qui-Gon as they began their descent on the steep staircase. At Qui-Gon’s nod, he went on, “Well, I thought that Lazzaro was painfully aware that he was a small fry in a little river flowing rapidly into a big sea where he knows he and his fellow fries will quickly be eaten alive by the bigger fish, so he’s trying desperately to swim upstream against the tide that is inevitably carrying him and the other fries into the ocean.”

“A very poetic assessment but an accurate one, I believe.” Qui-Gon had to agree with his apprentice’s analogy. “We can only hope that he’ll realize that he can’t swim upstream so it would be wiser for him to join his school of fish with another before they enter the ocean.”

“Do you think he’ll realize that?” Obi-Wan cocked his head.

“He listened to what we had to say and seemed to have opened his mind to our arguments by the end of our visit with him. That may be the first step of his realization or it may not.” Qui-Gon refused to speculate beyond that, grounding himself in the present moment.

“Strictly speaking, we may have overstepped our mandate to oversee the re-count in Ariani by talking to him and Alessa at all, Master,” Obi-Wan commented.

“Strictly speaking, yes, we may be.” Qui-Gon smiled crookedly for he had been wondering when Obi-Wan would remember the rules of their assignment. “Does that bother you, Padawan?”

“Not as much as it should, Master.” Obi-Wan’s face split into a twisted grin.

“I’ll turn you into a rebel yet, my young apprentice.” Qui-Gon chuckled softly.

“Master Yoda will be most displeased if you do.” Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon knew, had always had a special relationship with the ancient and esteemed Jedi Master, who often went out of his way to give Obi-Wan an extra bit of advice or affection.

“He’ll live with the disappointment,” Qui-Gon replied, thinking of what he always told himself whenever he was forced to disappoint the most revered member of their Order. “He’s survived worse in his hundreds of years as a Jedi.”

 

Please forgive the double post but I wanted to get the next chapter up for people to enjoy!

Shared Suspicion

The next day Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan spent the morning ferried from voting station to voting station to oversee that the re-count was proceeding fairly according to the protocol established at their meeting with the Head of State and two candidates for the position. As afternoon approached, the transport Head of State Darius had appointed for them carried them to the voting station for the district next to the tourist one where they were staying.

As the airspeeder flew through the streets of this neighboring district, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan quickly realized that it was a retirement one with brightly painted condominiums and assisted living facilities. Each condominium complex and assisted living facility seemed to have its own florid, tropical garden out front and oceanfront patio or balcony in the back. White-haired or bald denizens floated around the gardens in hoverchairs or basked in the sunlight on lounge chairs overlooking the ocean.

“Must cost a pretty pile of credits to retire here,” Obi-Wan commented as their airspeeder landed in front of the community center that had apparently been appropriated to serve as the district’s voting station.

Qui-Gon nodded in absent agreement as they debarked the transport.

“I’m Gian Ilario, manager of the re-count at this voting station.” A man stepped out from the shade of an overhang to greet the Jedi with a bow as they stepped out of the airspeeder.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan returned the bows, Qui-Gon introducing both of them and commenting as they were guided into the coolly climate-controlled community center, “This district seems to be mostly comprised of retirees.”

“That is correct.” Gian nodded. “Over seventy-five percent of the population in this district is made up of retirees. The remainder of the population is mainly family members and medical staff who live with the retirees to provide necessary care and company.”

“Not all the retirees are independently mobile then,” Qui-Gon remarked. “How do the retirees who aren’t independently mobile cast their votes?”

“They apply to the government for mail-in ballots, or they’re transported to the voting station on election day,” explained Gian as they entered a large room echoing with the conversations of people hunched over ballots. “Both candidates provided free transport to and from the voting station for retirees, and many of the condominiums and assisted living facilities you passed on the way here likewise offer complimentary transport for their residents.”

“I see.” Qui-Gon absorbed this information with a nod. “Thank you.”

“I’ll leave you to inspect operations here without my hovering over you.” Gian bowed and retreated from them.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan separated, pacing through the groups re-counting ballots at tables spaced at even intervals throughout the room. Qui-Gon noticed nothing untoward occurring at any of the tables though one woman did emanate a certain anxiety—as if she wanted to confide some secret in him— as he passed her table.

“Excuse me.” The woman rose from her table after he had passed behind her. “I need to get a cup of caf to refresh myself.”

“Get me one as well, would you?” The man sitting across from her requested. “I could use the energy boost.”

“Of course.” The woman smiled and disappeared through a door that Qui-Gon assumed must lead to a break room where a caf dispenser was located.

Acting on his intuition, Qui-Gon trailed her into the otherwise empty break room.

“I was hoping you’d follow me.” The woman turned from placing a disposable cup under the caf dispenser to offer Qui-Gon a tight smile. “I have a suspicion to share with the Jedi.”

“Oh?” Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow as he picked up a disposable cup of his own, intending to fill it with caf from the dispenser to establish his alibi for entering the break room.

“As part of the re-count, I have access to the list of registered voters for this district.” The woman’s hand was trembling around her cup so much that Qui-Gon feared she would spill the boiling caf all over herself. “My mother is a resident in an assisted living facility a couple of blocks from here. That’s why I volunteered at this voting station to help other retirees like her, you know. Anyway, in reviewing the list of registered voters for this district, I noticed that some of the names of residents in her assisted living facility who are now deceased were still present on the list.”

“It might be other residents with the same names.” Qui-Gon tried to calm the woman though he had an uneasy feeling himself.

“Yes, it might.” The woman finished filling her cup of caf and slipped a second one for her table companion under the dispenser. “Still, I thought this was something the Jedi should look into what with the rumors of dead people voting in this election.”

“The Jedi will investigate this,” Qui-Gon assured her, beginning to fill his own cup of caf as she stepped away from the dispenser. “Thank you for sharing your information with us.”

With a nod, she left the break room to return to the proceeding re-count. For several minutes Qui-Gon lingered, sipping at his caf. Then when he was certain his exit wouldn’t be linked with hers, he strode out of the break room, and continuing to sip at his caf, resumed his inspection of the re-count unfolding throughout the voting station.

“Where did you get that caf, Master?” Obi-Wan joined Qui-Gon at his elbow.

“There’s a break room with a caf dispenser through a side door,” answered Qui-Gon, tilting his head toward the doorway to which he referred.

“And you didn’t think to grab me a caf?” Obi-Wan emitted what was plainly intended as a long-suffering sigh.

“In your youth, Padawan, you shouldn’t need caf to ignite your engines. Caf is only to get old bones like me moving.” Qui-Gon took a serene swallow of his caf, ignoring Obi-Wan’s skeptical snort. “Come. I wish to speak with Gian about attaining a list of the registered voters for this district.”

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, as always, thanks so much for commenting! I'm glad that you enjoyed reading about the meeting with Lazzaro. I agree that he seemed receptive to Qui-Gon's perspective, and I think we might see some evidence of the impact Qui-Gon's conversation had on him later on in the story. That's the plan, anyway....

It was interesting for me to write all the details of the retirement community, so it makes me so happy to know you appreciated those, and, yes, it was good of the volunteer to share her suspicions. Next chapter should feature some more investigation into that and into whom the guilty parties might be.

 

@Oddly_Salacious Thank you so much for your kind comment I always loved the feeling of exciting newness at the beginning of TPM with being able to see the Republic era and the Jedi in their prime, so it makes me so happy that the opening sections of this story remind you of those feelings. It's also great to hear that the style of the narration immersed you at once, and many of the lines you highlighted from the narration were some of my favorites, so I hope you'll continue to enjoy this story in the future. Thanks again for taking the time to comment!

 

Necessary Authorization

“Have you completed your inspection of this voting station?” Gian asked as the Jedi circled back to him, and Qui-Gon had the distinct impression that this man would be relieved when they departed the voting station he managed.

“Almost.” Qui-Gon treated the man to a faint smile, hoping to set him at ease if he was innocent. Sometimes innocent being became nervous around the Jedi, fearing mystical Force powers. “There’s only one more thing you could do to help us.”

“I’ll do anything in my power to assist the Jedi, of course.” Gian gave what seemed to be a flustered bow.

“We’d like a copy of the list of registered voters for this district.” Qui-Gon spoke in a low tone, hoping to avoid the attention of the nearby people bent over the ballots they were re-counting.

“Let’s discuss this matter in more detail in the privacy of my office.” Gian kept his voice hushed as Qui-Gon’s and pivoted sharply on his heel, leading the Jedi down a hallway and into an office cramped with filing cabinets and flimsi stacked in precarious heaps on a wood desk. Gesturing for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to take two chairs in front of his desk that were by some miracle of the Force clear of clutter, he went on, “You must understand this is a most unusual request.”

“Jedi are unusual beings prone to making unusual requests.” Qui-Gon maintained a patient, pleasant tone. “It’s an occupational hazard.”

“You must understand that it might comprise the privacy of our registered voters.” Gian drummed his fingers on a fraction of desk not buried beneath a mound of flimsi. “Is there a particular reason the Jedi would like access to this information? Do you suspect voter fraud? There have been rumors…”

“There have been rumors, but no hard evidence of voter fraud here or at other voting stations throughout the city.” Qui-Gon hoped this might appease Gian into compliance. “The Jedi only wish to perform a routine inspection of your list of registered voters. There’s no cause for undue concern on your part.”

“Yes, of course.” Gian’s fingers continued to beat a tattoo on his desk. “It’s just I’m not certain the Jedi have the required authorization to access confidential copies of our registered voters.”

“You aren’t?” Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow, patience finally beginning to fade. “The Head of State promised me that everyone at the voting stations would be quick to comply with any requests made by the Jedi in the course of monitoring the re-count. If I comm the Head of State’s office now, I’ve no doubt I can obtain any authorization you require.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” Gian rushed to assure Qui-Gon, not at all to Qui-Gon’s surprise. In Qui-Gon’s extensive experience on worlds from one spiral arm of the galaxy to the other, beings of Gian’s personality became very accommodating as soon as a mention of their superior was made. “Of course the Jedi can have a copy of our list of registered voters despite the irregularity of the request. In fact, the Jedi can have mine.”

Gian thrust a list of registered voters that spanned many sheets of flimsi to Qui-Gon, who in turn handed it to Obi-Wan.

“Thank you.” Qui-Gon rose, gesturing for Obi-Wan to do the same. “We’ll take our leave now and trust you to manage your voting station.”

Gian offered a formal farewell, his expression betraying how eager he was to have the Jedi out of his voting station, where they could make no further unusual requests of him.

Once they had stepped out of the voting station, Qui-Gon cast an appraising gaze over his apprentice. His Padawan, he thought, was more logical, more naturally analytical than him. That would be a useful talent in sifting through all the details of the registered voters on the list Gian had provided. Obi-Wan would be the one to investigate the list for any fraudulently registered voters, while Qui-Gon would follow his instincts in other directions.

“I want you to return to our quarters and review this list for any fraudulently registered voters.” Qui-Gon tried to make his command clear without compromising Obi-Wan’s ability to offer an objective assessment. “Check for any listed voters who might be underage…”

“Underage in a district of retirees, Master?” Obi-Wan shot him a dubious glance.

Ignoring this interruption, Qui-Gon elaborated, expanding the parameters of Obi-Wan’s search, “Look also for any registered voters who might be deceased or even ones who might never have existed at all.”

“Should I be suspicious of voter fraud, Master?” Obi-Wan’s face was keen—alight with the prospect of an intellectual challenge—now.

“You should be suspicious of nothing, Padawan,” Qui-Gon chided. “I need your eyes open to information but your judgment unclouded by any preconceptions. Understand?”

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan gave a small, determined nod. “I won’t fail you, I promise.”

“You never have.” Qui-Gon gently steered his apprentice toward the transport Head of State Darius had provided for their use with a gentle hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Just trust in the Force to guide you. I’ll order our driver to drop you off at the resort before he takes me to attend to some things.”

“What things will you attend to?” Obi-Wan wanted to know as Qui-Gon settled into the seat across from him after relaying the request to return Obi-Wan to the resort to their appointed driver.

“Whatever my intuition leads me to do.” Qui-Gon kept his reply vague. He did intend to fill in Obi-Wan on his actions at some point, but not while they might impact Obi-Wan’s perception in analyzing the list of registered voters.

Obi-Wan emitted an almost inaudible sigh that nevertheless effectively conveyed his discontent at being denied what he deemed relevant information, but posed no further questions during the ride back to the resort.

“May the Force be with you, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said as the speeder landed outside the resort and Obi-Wan prepared to climb out of the vehicle.

“May the Force be with you, Master,” echoed Obi-Wan, debarking the transport and striding toward the resort.

Qui-Gon watched his apprentice vanish into the resort as the transport sped away to the voting station in another retirement district Qui-Gon had asked the driver to carry him to after leaving the resort.

Qui-Gon inspected this station, obtaining a copy of its registered voters. He continued to do the same in the rest of the city’s retirement districts. Some managers of the voting stations were happy to oblige his request for a list of registered voters, while others needed to be persuaded in the same way Gian had been.

Returning to the speeder after acquiring these lists, Qui-Gon felt grimly satisfied. If there was no evidence of voter fraud on these lists, at least Gian wouldn’t be suspicious if he reached out to fellow voting station managers in similar situations to discover if Qui-Gon request had truly been routine…

He ordered the driver to take him to the government building where he had met with Head of State Darius before he even picked up his comlink to contact Catia to request a meeting with her.

“Catia, it’s Qui-Gon Jinn speaking,” he said into his comlink when she answered his call. “I need to meet with you at once to discuss some questions that have materialized in the course of monitoring the re-count.”

“I’ll be happy to answer any Jedi questions.” Catia’s reply came as swiftly as Qui-Gon had known it would. “Please come to me at the government building where you met Head of State Darius as soon as possible. I’ll be waiting outside to lead you up to my office.”

“I’m on my way. Thank you.” Qui-Gon closed the connection and leaned into the cushions of the speeder, watching a beautiful and peaceful city that concealed so much ugliness and unrest flicker by the viewport.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha As always, thank you so much for commenting! That delicate balance of being on the lookout for any evidence of discrepancies but trying not to have any preconceived suspicions that might impact an ability to make an accurate judgment is what I was trying to convey in this chapter, so I'm glad that you picked that up as an important message. I definitely think that would be an ideal the Jedi would strive to even if they couldn't always live up to it as being have a tendency to form preconceived notions that unfortunately can impact judgment.

@AzureAngel2, thank you so much for your thoughtful comment! I really did like that ending line since I hoped that it would convey that mixture of a beautiful city that has an undercurrent of unease and ugliness, so I'm flattered that it made you think of Sunset Boulevard. That song really does capture that exact tone that I was going for. What a powerful and haunting song that is.

 

@CaraJinn Thanks so much for commenting! Glad you're all caught up with the story now, and you're right that there definitely is some potential for good old election fraud based on the errors Obi-Wan is searching for in the lists of voters. Next chapter will delve into this issue of voter fraud even more, so I hope you'll continue to find the developments interesting.

 

Once again, apologies for the double post, but I wanted to share the next chapter

Stronger United

As the speeder approached the government building where Qui-Gon would meet Catia, he saw that the square before it was thronging with protestors much as it had been when he and Obi-Wan met Head of State Darius at the start of their mission. This time the protestors seemed to be shouting as one voice rather than screaming contradictory slogans at each other, and their placards all bore messages demanding a higher standard of living rather than advocating for a particular candidate.

He wondered if the seeds he had planted in Alessa’s and Lazzaro’s minds had borne fruit so quickly. As the speeder landed before the government building and he stepped out onto the square, he had to wonder no longer for as if his thoughts had summoned them, Alessa and Lazzaro materialized from the crowd to stand at his elbows.

“We thank you for bringing us together so we could shout as one voice for change,” Alessa said, a hope radiating off her that Qui-Gon hadn’t sensed from her when he had spoken with her in her conapt. Her apparent alliance with Lazzaro and his native workers of Ariani had altered her demeanor. “We believe the government will have to hear us now.”

“We’re all demanding the same things—fair wages that support a decent standard of living,” added Lazzaro. “They can’t fool us into fighting each other any more.”

“Lazzaro reached out to me first.” Alessa took up the thread of Lazzaro’s thought. “That’s when we realized we shared the same goals.”

“We’re the United Workers and Migrants of Ariani Advocacy Group now.” Lazzaro’s eyes were no longer stony—just determined to succeed for the new party he had created with Alessa. “Nothing they do will be able to tear us apart now

“I’m glad to hear it.” Qui-Gon had to smile at the different faces fighting for the future of their world. “Together you’ll be much stronger than you ever were divided. I believe you’ll achieve all the change you want.”

Satisfied that he had contributed more than just a fairly monitored re-count to this planet in turmoil, he nodded a farewell to the two leaders of the united party before taking his leave of them, striding through the mass of protestors to reach the door to the government building, where Catia waited for him surrounded by a squad of security officers.

“I noticed you were waylaid by two of our more strident protestors,” remarked Catia once they had exchanged greetings. “I did consider dispatching security to rescue you but decided it was best not to risk a potentially violent confrontation. I hope you weren’t treated to any of their more outlandish ideas.”

“Nothing that came out of their mouths sounded particularly outlandish to me.” Qui-Gon fixed a level gaze on her, observing inwardly that only the most punctilious government officials would find anything outlandish about demanding decent living standards and fair wages. “As to dispatching security, I assure you that Jedi are quite capable of protecting ourselves if we feel threatened, which I did not, and that we always seek peaceful solutions rather than violent confrontations.”

“We in the Arieli government also value peace and order, which is why we cannot allow either to be threatened by outlandish ideas and outrageous demands.” Cold politeness carved into her features, Catia invited him into the government building.

Her high heels clicking on the marble floor, she led him through the refreshing chill of the climate-controlled atrium to a turbolift that carried them up to a conference room. Once they had seated themselves in opposite chairs at a table decorated with potted tropical plants, Catia addressed the reason for his visit. “You mentioned that questions had emerged for you in the course of monitoring our re-count, and I assured you that I would answer them.”

“That was very gracious of you, and I’ll do my best not to take up too much of your time.” With that pleasantry dispensed with, Qui-Gon decided to ask the principal question that had brought him here. “As a matter of routine when monitoring a re-count, the Jedi may request to review the lists of registered voters. In doing so, it is helpful to understand the process of how voters are added and removed from the lists of various districts.”

“Ah, that is a process that sounds complicated but is straightforward.” Catia looked smug at having the opportunity to explain Arieli’s voter registration system to an interested outsider. “To register to vote in a district, a voter must provide government-approved proof of his or her age and residency in the district. Government documents providing proof of birth and address are necessary to be registered to vote in any Arieli district.”

“I see.” Qui-Gon inclined his head gravely, absorbing every word Catia told him about the voter registration process on Arieli. “Who determines whether adequate proof of age and residency has been provided?”

“Each district has clerks to record requests for voter registration complete with the documentation offered to provide proof of age and address,” explained Catia. “However, the ultimate decision to approve or deny any request for voter registration is the purview of the manager of the voting station in that district. He or she is expected to review the authenticity of all proof of age and address offered on any requests for voter registration.”

“You’ve been very helpful.” Qui-Gon now didn’t doubt that if there was voter fraud in any of the Ariani districts, the mangers of the voting stations in question would be responsible for it, but he also understood that they would only be creatures someone else was manipulating on a dejarik board. They would be small fish doing the bidding of bigger fish in the sea. The true challenge wouldn’t be catching the little fish in crime but the big fish who ordered where they swam.

“You’re curious about voter registration.” Catia’s gaze was keen as it cut into him. “Do the Jedi suspect voter fraud?”

“The Jedi are always alert to the possibility of voter fraud when monitoring a re-count, but no proof of voter fraud has been found.” Qui-Gon rose from the conference table. “Thank you for your time. I will return to monitoring the re-count.”

His brain whirling with the implications of what Catia had revealed to him about the voter registration process on Arieli, Qui-Gon had the speeder fly him back to the resort where he and Obi-Wan were staying for the duration of their mission on Arieli. Wondering what Obi-Wan might have discovered in his examination of the voter registration records, Qui-Gon entered the resort and took the turbolift up to their penthouse suite.

Obi-Wan glanced up, face tinged blue by the light of his datapad, as Qui-Gon accessed the door panel and walked into their suite, observing dryly, “This district of retirees has some very dedicated voters who managed to vote years after their death. Their undying devotion to democracy is truly inspiring.”

“What proof do you have that they’re dead?” Qui-Gon sat on the sofa beside his Padawan so he could study the documents Obi-Wan had on the glowing screen.

“I cross-referenced government records of addresses and deaths with the obituaries listed in the archives of local holonews pages.” Obi-Wan tapped between each screen as he mentioned it, and Qui-Gon had to admire how meticulous in logic and research his apprentice had been. “Over a thousand of the registered voters in this district are deceased, Master. I made a separate list of the names of the fraudulently registered voters.”

“You did well with your research. I thought you might discover that.” Qui-Gon pinched the bridge of his nose, a foreboding feeling that the voter fraud would not be limited to one district sweeping through him. “Unfortunately, this pattern of voter fraud might be repeated in more than one district. There might very well be more districts where dead people have been allowed to vote.”

“I can research that.” There were dark bags under Obi-Wan’s eyes, but his face still shone with eagerness as he reached for the lists of registered voters for other districts tucked in Qui-Gon’s hands.

“I’ll research that.” Qui-Gon shifted the lists so his apprentice couldn’t grab them. “You’ll get some rest. You look as if you need it.”

“I’m not tired at all, Master.” Obi-Wan had to conceal a yawn that belied this claim behind a palm. “I’ve never been more awake, in fact.”

“Your sleep coach is calling your name, Padawan.” Qui-Gon lifted the datapad from Obi-Wan’s lap and placed it on his own. “Listen to it.”

Obi-Wan stood and made his way to the door that led into their sleeping quarters, but when he reached it, he spun on his heel to ask, “What are we going to do about the voter fraud, Master?”

“You’re going to sleep now.” Qui-Gon kept his focus on the datapad. “I’m going to investigate if voter fraud has occurred in other districts. Good night, my young apprentice.”

“You never tell me anything.” Obi-Wan emitted what was no doubt intended to be a long-suffering sigh.

“I’m telling you to go to sleep now.” Unimpressed by his apprentice’s stubbornness, Qui-Gon fixed a stern gaze on his Padawan.

“I’m going.” Obi-Wan lifted his palms in a gesture of surrender before disappearing into their sleeping quarters.

Qui-Gon began to dig into the lists of registered voters from other districts and was grimly unsurprised to uncover incidents of voter fraud where deceased people had been registered to vote in every district. The voter fraud spanned far beyond Gian Ilario. The Jedi would have to speak with Head of State Darius about this first thing tomorrow morning. He’d have to contact Catia to arrange the appointment.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, thanks so much for your kind comment! I got such a satisfied feeling out of seeing these two different groups and people come together to become united and stronger in trying to achieve their objectives, so it makes me very happy to hear that you found that part wonderful to read about since I think in some way that will be the great Jedi accomplishment on Arieli, or at least that might be how Qui-Gon will perceive it. I do think it is so important and pivotal that the Jedi are uncovering this tangible evidence of corruption. Next chapter will allow us to see exactly what they do with this evidence of corruption so hopefully you enjoy where the story goes next.

@Cowgirl Jedi 1701 So glad you enjoyed and quoted that bit. That was one of my favorite parts of this chapter to write, and I was totally trying to capture that typical teenager-parent relationship, so it makes me super pleased that was the first thing you thought of when you read that section.

 

@earlybird-obi-wan, Thanks so much for commenting! I'm glad you're all caught up now And the one good thing about crazy real world politics is that it can serve as inspiration for Star Wars fanfic like this...

@Emperor Ferus Thank you so much for commenting! I'm so flattered that you find my stories so rich and enticing.I hope you'll continue to enjoy my work!

 

Caught up again!

This remains a rivetting, well crafted, intrically thought out story! It's been ages since I read as politically centered a story such as this one, and I'm really enjoying the reading experience.

Oh, they have no idea! I love this bit of foreshadowing, and watching Obi-Wan grow into himself.

This had me cracking up - their dynamic is so spot on enjoyable to read!

Nice.

You can see Obi-Wan becoming the Negotiator in this - where he applies the best of his own analytical nature and Qui-Gon's intuition and unorthadoxy for the best! Really I can't say enough about how much I've enjoyed your characterization in this. I'm excited to read more!

 

@Mira_Jade Thank you so much for commenting, and I'm glad you're all caught up again It's awesome to hear that you're continuing to enjoy the story, and I hope you'll continue to find it well-crafted until the conclusion. This is definitely a very politically centered story but I'm enjoying the chance to delve into some of the Prequel era politics, and I'm happy to hear that you're finding it a compelling read.

I'm so glad you appreciate the foreshadowing and that you love watching Obi-Wan grow into himself. I'm really enjoying being able to explore Obi-Wan's growth as a character.

It's been really fun to write the dynamic between Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon so I'm so pleased that you think I captured their dynamic so perfectly.

I definitely think Obi-Wan is learning how to balance his analytical nature with Qui-Gon's intuition and willingness to bend the rules, so it makes me so delighted you can see those seeds of Obi-Wan becoming the Negotiator being plated.

I hope next chapter lives up to your expectations!

 

@AzureAngel2 Thank you so much for your thoughtful comment! I'm so glad that you found the fraud part thrilling and that you found it echoed real life events since I was hoping people would find it realistic. There will be more development of the voter fraud issue in this chapter I'm posting now. I definitely believe your grandmother's account. It sounds like a horrible but true thing that could happen especially in that time period. Fortunately for the Jedi things should end better for Arieli than things did in Europe in 1945, which was one of the most tragic periods in our human history.

The Fish Rots from the Head

The next morning Qui-Gon sat on the suite’s sofa, staring out at the waves washing against the black beach that was already filled with couples strolling hand-in-hand along the shore or spread out on towels to soak in the first rays of the golden sun. He fished his comlink out of his pocket and entered Catia’s frequency.

“Head of State’s office, Catia speaking.” Catia’s tone had an edge to it that suggested that she hadn’t yet enjoyed her morning iced caf.

“It’s Qui-Gon Jinn.” Qui-Gon watched a lady far below remove her sandals and begin to dance in the ocean. “I wish to schedule an appointment to speak with Head of State Darius as soon as possible.”

“May I ask what about?” Catia suddenly sounded much more awake.

“The election.” Qui-Gon had no intention of revealing to her what he had discovered about the voting fraud occurring in Ariani though he imagined she would have her suspicions after their conversation yesterday. Let her have her suspicions, he thought as he watched the lady’s husband join her in the waves, the white foam of the water rising to surround his kneecaps as the tide ebbed and flowed around him.

“I respect the need for secrecy.” Catia gave a faint sniff that conveyed the opposite impression. “I’ve scheduled you for the next appointment with the Head of State in an hour’s time. Will that be suitable?”

“Yes, thank you. You’ve been very helpful.” Qui-Gon ended the connection, smiling slightly as he heard the first sounds of Obi-Wan stirring from his sleep couch and dressing in the next room.

Grabbing a jogan fruit from a ceramic bowl serving as a centerpiece on the caf table, Qui-Gon continued to gaze down at the beach below, noting that his Padawan wasn’t the only young person awake at the resort. Children with their parents were beginning to join the couples, building sand castles and swimming in the shallows of the ocean.

“Another beautiful morning on Arieli,” remarked Obi-Wan, emerging from their sleeping quarters. Slipping onto the veda sofa across from Qui-Gon, he snatched up a piece of liwi fruit from another ceramic bowl on the caf table. “Will you add to its beauty by telling me what you wouldn’t last night?”

“Were you sulking all night, Padawan?” Qui-Gon’s attempt at a reproachful head shake was undercut by the amusement he could feel tugging at his lips.

“I never do anything so undignified as sulk, Master.” Obi-Wan’s indignation was muffled by the succulent liwi fruit in his mouth.

Qui-Gon grunted dubiously at this statement before filling his apprentice in on the further incidents of voter fraud he had uncovered once Obi-Wan had been sent to sleep.

“That’s so much voter fraud.” Obi-Wan finished the liwi fruit and reached out for a jogan fruit, starting to devour it with equal speed. Not even a black hole could vacuum up food as fast as his Padwan, Qui-Gon often thought with wry affection. “How does it happen?”

“Catia explained the process of voter registration to me yesterday.” Qui-Gon answered for the mechanics of corruption rather than the morality of it because that needed to remain the focus of their discussion. “To register to vote in a district, a voter must provide government-approved proof of his or her age and residency in the district. Government documents providing proof of birth and address are necessary to be registered to vote in any Arieli district. Each district has clerks to record requests for voter registration complete with the documentation offered to provide proof of age and address. However, the ultimate decision to approve or deny any request for voter registration is the purview of the manager of the voting station in that district. He or she is expected to review the authenticity of all proof of age and address offered on any requests for voter registration.”

“So Ariani has a lot of corrupt managers of voting stations.” Obi-Wan’s forehead furrowed as he ate the last of the jogan fruit.

“Yes, but what motivates these managers of voting stations to be corrupt?” Qui-Gon steepled his fingers. He had formulated a theory but was curious to see how quickly Obi-Wan would arrive at the same conclusion he had. “What benefit do they receive from being corrupt in registering deceased voters?”

“What always motivates corrupt politicians.” Obi-Wan made a scoffing noise as he snagged a second liwi fruit from a ceramic bowl. “Credits, power, and the opportunity to give and receive political favors.”

“Yes, but who promised them credits and political favors in this instance?” Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow. “Have you heard the expression that the fish rots from the head?”

“You mean a candidate for Head of State offered credits and political favors to the managers of the voting stations to convince them to register dead people to vote in the election?” Obi-Wan’s eyes were wide as the liwi fruit he had just grabbed. “I suppose it’s more likely that one person organized the effort than that all these managers of voting stations coincidentally decided to be corrupt in the same fashion in the same election.”

“That would indeed seem to be very coincidental.” Qui-Gon nodded grimly. “Almost as coincidental as all the voting stations with the corrupt managers being in retirement districts.”

“Retirees would support Alcide Cesare.” Obi-Wan understood Qui-Gon’s implication in a heartbeat. “Do you think it was him who bribed the voting station managers to register dead people to vote?”

“That’s exactly what I think.” Qui-Gon confirmed the suspicion that had been growing in him since yesterday. Fixing his apprentice with a slight smile, he added, “I hope Head of State Darius will be as swift on the uptake as you. We’ll be meeting with him”—he checked his chrono—“in half an hour so we should leave now.”

“We don’t have any proof that Alcide Cesare is behind the corruption, Master.” Obi-Wan rose and followed Qui-Gon out of the suite. “The Head of State might not want to be perceived as persecuting another political figure without cause. That could open him up to charges of corruption himself. Politicians are often more wary of those than actual corruption.”

“We’ll have to persuade him that there is a way to obtain evidence against Alcide Cesare.” Qui-Gon pressed the button to summon the turbolift to take them down to the lobby. “He should arrest the corrupt voting station managers and learn if some of them are willing to talk.”

“They might be convinced to give evidence against Alcide Cesare in plea bargain for a lighter sentence.” Obi-Wan’s eyes gleamed as the turbolift arrived with a heraldic chime. “A brilliant idea, Master.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Gently teasing, Qui-Gon ruffled his Padawan’s hair as they boarded the turbolift, Obi-Wan pressing the button for the lobby. “I live for your approval, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan muttered something dry and wistful under his breath that might have been: “If only that were true, Master, my life would be much less stressful…”

Grinning inside, Qui-Gon refrained from commenting on his apprentice’s impertinence.