WEEDS: Part 1

by: Apache
Feedback to: lf@chele.cais.net



DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox.  This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it.  Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended.  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.  Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.


Qui-Gon Jinn saw no harm in it, so far. Nor had he found much benefit, though the young politician was entertaining and had a knack for asking offbeat questions. Either way, they'd met often enough over the past months that it might have been rude to pass his office without looking in.

And aside from the concerns of ordinary courtesy, Jinn had begun to ask himself whether there was a way, and perhaps a need, to be kind to Deputy Third Minister Valorum.


Finis Valorum's office was barely large enough to deserve the name. The Third Minister was a relatively unimportant member of the Chancellor's Cabinet, which made her deputy very small fry indeed. At the moment, Valorum was standing at polite attention, facing into an alcove with a holo communications console; he waved Qui-Gon in without looking around, then folded his hands in front of himself again.

The console was active; the pale, flickering figure of a tired human being in official robes could be seen on the holopad.

". . . and indemnify their losses," said the figure.

"It would have to go through the Senate, as I'm sure your grace knows," said Valorum, bowing his head deferentially. "You are no doubt also aware that certain elements in the Senate have been, shall we say, reluctant to allocate public revenues for what is sometimes characterized as private relief."

"What you're saying is they want us out here settling the Rim, but they don't want to share any of the risks with us," the figure said.

Valorum's shoulders relaxed a bit. "Yes, Viceroy Oasam, that's what it amounts to," he said candidly. He took a deep breath. "Your grace, would Seep be willing to ally with some of the other Rim worlds?"

"Infidels?" The voice was harsh, and Valorum flinched slightly.

"People who want to live their lives the way they see fit, without having every family who wants to come their way having to risk getting shot up by pirates, your grace," he said mildly. "Everyone wants that."

The holo-figure spat on the ground next to itself.

Valorum blinked and took a long pause. When he spoke, his voice was crisp.

"No one's asking you to climb into bed with them." //And no 'your grace,'// Qui-Gon noticed.

Although holos were blue, the furious flush in the face of the Viceroy could be clearly discerned. What Valorum had just said was criminal to utter on Oasam's world, and the deputy Third Minister knew it.

Back to the gentle voice. "Maybe the way to get from 1 to 2 with this problem is to go by way of 23. There is a possibility -- do you know Senator Quill Antilles? He doesn't rep your sector, but he pays attention to the whole Republic, not just his smidgen of it. He could propose the establishment of an Outer Rim spacelanes information clearinghouse."

Valorum spread his hands. "It's an idea too simple to bury in committee, too innocuous to oppose -- there's no legitimate reason to object to compiling information."

He paused. The Viceroy's eyes were still popped with rage. //Perhaps he was too angry to spit?//

"The information is going to show a pattern of pillage beyond any obfuscation or denial. After that, the Senate will have no choice but to act." Finis took on a thoughtful expression. "If you're not entirely satisfied with the representation you're getting from Senator Dlaly, that might be another avenue of relief to explore."

Once more Valorum paused; this time, the holo-figure spat. Qui-Gon wondered if there was some significance to this spitting that he had never been trained to recognize, because Valorum continued to speak as if he were getting intelligible answers.

"You won't have to deal with the other worlds directly, if you don't wish it. Once the clearinghouse is set up, you can deal exclusively with them. Pending that development, my office would be happy to help coordinate with Senator Antilles' staff..."

The figure spat again and said nothing. Valorum nodded. "Excellent," he said in the same even, mild voice. "I'll start the wheels turning here on Coruscant, and we can talk again in a day or two. You'll only have to deal with the Senator's staff, or with me."

"Make it soon," said the holo-figure, and transmission ended.

Valorum took a deep, satisfied breath. "Well, I've earned myself a whipping if I set foot on Seep during that Viceroy's tenure," he said cheerfully. "A whole planet of Makerites-- Jinn, you would not believe what those guys believe." He turned toward Qui-Gon. "Well, maybe you would, I dunno -- been there?"

Qui-Gon shook his head.

Valorum frowned slightly. "Actually, as an unmarried male, you might have to agree to castration before they'd let you land.... I forget." He looked at Qui-Gon again. "Their senator, Dlaly, is crookeder than a Xexto's fifth elbow. She belongs to the mining interests, and they're all in bed with the Hutts. And the Hutts take a cut from the pirates.... Fortunately, for every Dlaly, there's a Quill."

Valorum stretched, then sat on the edge of his desk.

"All the Seepies really want is to be left alone so they can persecute each other in peace. If they can bring themselves to federate with the other Rim worlds, they'll get a hearing -- maybe even get what they really need, which is a better Senator. Lucky for them their Viceroy is an agreeable guy."

"Clearly," said Qui-Gon. 'Agreeable' was not the first word that came to his mind for the Viceroy. Nor the second.

Valorum grinned. "You are so discreet, Jinn. Viceroy Oasam is about as agreeable as a wounded sand panther. Fortunately, he's exactly as smart as he is agreeable. Maybe he'll take the hint about Dlaly, anyway -- she's made enough money selling out her constituents by now that she might be willing to go quietly. -- Lunch?"

Qui-Gon smiled. "Lunch," he said.

"Another agreeable guy," Valorum said happily. "My luck just can't be beat today. Let's just go to the caf -- the executive d.r. is just too executively slow."

Qui-Gon nodded; he preferred the Senate's public cafeterias to its private dining rooms also, though not for their speed.

The two men fell into step easily; both were tall and enjoyed not having to shorten stride to walk with someone else.

"So, how ya doing, Jinn?"

"I am well, thank you, deputy minister."

"And how's the Force today?"

Qui-Gon smiled again. "It is well also."

Valorum had a characteristic way of veering into humor at the slightest opportunity. At first Qui-Gon had wondered if it was mockery, and if the young minister was looking to undermine or destabilize the Jedi -- politicians had made a career out of it before. But if that were Valorum's true plan, it seemed not to be fueled by hostility or suspicion, which Qui-Gon would have sensed.

What he did sense confused him. Valorum was abuzz with emotion all the time, but his outward appearance usually contradicted the sense of himself that he was projecting into the Force.

And then there was his inexplicable candor. In the course of a string of lunches whenever Jinn was between missions, Valorum had volunteered an astonishing number of blunt, sometimes salty, opinions of the Republic's people and policies. One message from Qui-Gon to either Senator Dlaly or that Viceroy would likely scuttle Valorum's career -- why would he gamble his whole future so recklessly on the reticence of one, very young, Jedi knight?

Valorum broke into his thoughts. "What did you make of the Viceroy?"

Qui-Gon's eyebrows shot up. "It--

Valorum interrupted. "Don't say anything along the lines of it's not a Jedi's job to evaluate political figures, and quote me the serve-not-rule deal. I know all that. So what did you make of the Viceroy?"

Qui-Gon considered, and decided to answer. "An angry man, frightened."

"Maybe too scared? Like, afraid of something besides how expensive it is to have all your new colonists get plundered by pirates on their way out there?"

Qui-Gon gave Valorum a mildly amused look. "Shall I say also that his stomach is troubling him, and his daughter is disobedient?"

"What?" Valorum was amazed. "You could tell all that?"

"No, minister" said Qui-Gon. "But your speculation is so specific that I may as well indulge myself, too."

"Oh," said Valorum. He looked over at the Jedi. "Sneaky, Jinn, sneaky." He shook his head. "Not to mention scary. I'm not usually such an easy mark."

Qui-Gon simply smiled and kept walking.

//What is this guy doing here?// Finis wondered.

It was the first time Jinn had sought him out. Up till now, it had been a case of his issuing invitations and the Jedi either accepting or turning out to be off-planet; the politician thought Jinn came from a sense of duty, as part of his service, as if the invitation were effectively a summons.

Certainly Jinn had given him no reason to imagine otherwise. The Jedi was unfailingly pleasant, reasonably responsive to questions-- even if the answers proved beyond comprehension-- and absolutely opaque. Finis hoped someday to see beyond the generic Jedi demeanor to an individual beneath, but it hadn't happened yet. The nearest Jinn got to a personal utterance had been a few mild jokes, like this one.

"Okay, so I'm overreaching. Pirates are certainly a good enough reason to be scared."

Jinn nodded, and they walked on in silence for a while.

"I hate pirates," Valorum said suddenly, and with unaccustomed passion. "When you see what it's like out there between the Rims... it's tough enough, and then the pirates come along and slaughter everyone on a ship for trinkets and petty cash. Makes anyone afraid to fly."

"Yes," the Jedi agreed. He was actually distracted by the intensity of his perceptions. This time, there was no gap between Valorum's demeanor and his inner feelings; the flash of white-hot hatred registered violently in the Force as well as in his words.

Finis thought the Jedi looked bored, and snapped at him. "Jinn, it would comfort me greatly if you would occasionally resort to full sentences. It would aid me in my little delusion that I have at least a tenuous grip on what you mean at any given moment."

Qui-Gon smiled calmly. "I have also seen what happens to systems where the pirates are active. Life is uncertain, not peaceful. There is much turmoil between the Inner and Outer Rims."

//Words.// The young Jedi regretted the sheer dullness of his response, but it was still the young minister's rage that had his real attention. The Force carried a knowledge-- //buried pain --a death -- a civilian. A child?// His earlier thought recurred: //kindness to Valorum, what would that be?//

"But you don't necessarily hate pirates, do you?" Valorum probed. "I hear it in your voice. Why not?"

//This is the right question, and it must get the right answer.//

Qui-Gon's focus went inward, and he walked alongside Valorum for a long way without answering. //To say a simple thing simply, without error.... // He could tell a Jedi youngster, *search your feelings.* But with Valorum it must all be done in words.

Finis took advantage of the hiatus in Jinn's attention to make eye contact with three or four young women they passed, trying out his smile on each of them. It was fairly effective, which cheered him up. He might not understand the Jedi, but communications were still good with the female of the species.

"A pirate is not a thing to hate," Qui-Gon said finally. "Even an evil person... hatred is not the right response. There is the work of preventing or undoing the evil, and the better work of undoing the desire or need to do it."

"Get 'em all to go to church? Sing some hymns to the Maker of All Things?"

Jinn eyed him narrowly. Valorum guessed it meant that he was making fun of something pretty serious. "Come on, Jinn, clear it up for me."

The Jedi took a breath. "Deputy minister, hatred is the enemy, before pirates, before pillage. Undo your own hatred before you face any other enemy, or you have lost the war."

"So I shouldn't hate pirates?"

Jinn rumpled his brow.

"So I shouldn't hate anyone?"

The brow unrumpled.

Valorum looked away from the Jedi. His face set in a frown and a faraway stare, and his pace slowed unconsciously until he stopped completely and folded his arms while he thought. A long minute went by, then he started shaking his head slowly.

"Not the right answer for me, Jinn. That answer has a better chance of getting one person to inner peace than ridding the spacelanes of pirates. And it's more important to get rid of the pirates." He focused on Qui-Gon. "Much more important. In my world, anyway."

The Jedi nodded. "As you say."

Valorum looked at him acutely. "You're not agreeing with me, you just don't want to argue."

The Jedi smiled. "Yes. Hatred is more dangerous than many thousands of pirates."

"For you."

"Most certainly for me," the Jedi agreed.

"And me?"

The Jedi looked at him thoughtfully. "You know my answer, as I know yours. Perhaps time will tell."

"Hmm," Valorum said, starting to walk again. He changed expressions abruptly and snapped his fingers. "Hey! You know where we are?"

Since they were deep within the huge, domed Senate building popularly known as the Mushroom, Qui-Gon guessed the question was rhetorical. Anyway, Valorum wasn't waiting for an answer -- he'd already started down an intersecting hall, tossing words back over his shoulder.

"I'm not really hungry, are you? Come see another perk. There's a, forgive me, executive garden around here somewhere. All kinds of good stuff tucked away down here. Come meet the executive plants."

Amused, Qui-Gon followed.

The garden was a jewel. Long dripping mosses with tiny starry flowers combined with tall, elegant reeds along the borders. A few trees suggested how old this garden was, but seasonal species dominated its plantings, giving the place a feel of the quickness of time, flowering and fading, not the slow passage of ages. The main ground was thick with grasses, herbs and wildflowers from all over the galaxy.

Valorum reached out and pulled a seed-spike off one of the tall grasses, a long, drooping, softly bearded burr that he curled into his palm. He shot a sidelong look at the Jedi.

"Don't kill me for this, okay? I know you're not supposed to pick them." He ran the burr through his fingers. It was a vivid green, with touches of scarlet in the beard hairs. "This one's a weed, actually, from Alderaan. It may have grown here, too, I don't know." He sniffed at it.

Coruscant had many thousands of contained gardens like this one, as well as a number of huge enclosures, but they were still gardens, constructs rather than true landscapes. The city-planet's own landscape had been buried so long that paleobotanists were always arguing fiercely over whether this or that plant had actually been native, or simply imported for early gardens.

Though the place was new to Qui-Gon, most of its plants were not. It was intriguing that Valorum's taste ran to this garden of changefulness, rather than some more elegant assemblage of rare species.

"We grow this at the Temple," Qui-Gon said, crouching to brush a stubby little plant with one finger. Even the small touch brought a tiny freshet of sweet fragrance off the buttery, dark green leaves. "It has a natural unguent. This one's edible; these are good for the kidneys." He pointed. "This one's particularly sensitive to Force-focusing -- we can encourage it to grow faster, or to die. Children practice on it."

He turned to find Valorum looking at him in wonder.

//Children?// Everyone knew that one of the many tasks Jedi turned their hands to, out in the galaxy, was agriculture; Jedi supposedly had ways of helping crops to remain healthy and grow abundantly. Finis had never given it a second thought, but he did now.

//The ability to make a living thing either flourish or die with your mind alone is for children?// Valorum didn't say anything out loud, but the expression on his face made Jinn stop volunteering and stand up with the Generic Jedi expression in place again.

It was too bad, but he didn't feel like pushing Jinn to see if he could elicit more. Instead, the two men wandered the garden, pursuing their private thoughts, pacing along slowly in a kind of harmony they'd never reached before.


Part 1    Part 2

Back to Stories Page


|| TPOOL || SG-1 Fiction || Star Wars Fiction || Site Updates || Links ||
|| Webrings || Submissions || Beta Readers || Chat || Message Board ||
|| Other Stuff || The SG-1 Fanfic Webring || TPM Fanfic Webring ||