The Southern Continent

[quigonejinn]

The fic is basically an exercise in Rhod's Brain is Psychotic and I Wish I Chould Blame This on Dilly Mixing Up Footage of Liam and Fiennes At One Point, Goddammit, But This is Really My Fault 100% Argh. I mean, the notion is that Liam Neeson and Ralph Fiennes, from certain angles, look almost enough like to be the same person, let alone brothers.

Beta by imadra_blue and stelli_belli. Written months ago and brought back into my brain by kano and her <3 for Ralph Fiennes.

Before the assignment, Qui-Gon had only been vaguely aware that he had a brother. He had, of course, in a fit of Padawan curiosity, once looked himself up in the Temple database, but that had been decades ago. In the time since, he had forgotten most of the details -- he'd forgotten that there were three major land masses on the planet, for example, and he also didn't know that the dominant religion on the planet was tolerant polytheism coupled with regionalized animism.

Birth planets tended not to be important to be most Jedi, after all.

Families, too. Qui-Gon hadn't even been back to visit them since he had become a Padawan early, so Obi-Wan gave him the bullet-point run-down of what had occurred since Qui-Gon had read his family files as an eleven year old: the father had remarried; the mother had not. The mother moved to an agrarian commune on the southern landmass; the father had left the planet years before and had died as a trader in the Calamari system. The child that had been conceived shortly before their separation had survived to be born, educated, arrive to some degree of prominence.

"And now he is dead," Qui-Gon said, frowning a little. He put down his mug and gestured for Obi-Wan to continue reading the mission file.

Jedi had a right to refuse any mission that the Council asked of them, and that right was even stronger, even more rooted in tradition, when the mission involved birth planets: there was always the fear of attachment and entanglement. Jedi served the Republic best when their neutrality was unquestionable, and there was always the hint of favoritism on a birth planet.

It made this mission particularly remarkable. Qui-Gon's brother had been a major part, it seemed, of the opposition to the Trade Federation's presence on the planet, but the Chancellor himself had pointed out that it might increase the willingness of the planetary representatives if there were someone that they might have a little more faith in than the standard Republic negotiator.

"Food production, primarily. Through the Trade Federation, they supply most of that arm of the Republic with food. If the contract is interrupted, there would be widespread hunger until the Trade Federation re-established an alternate sources. I suppose that's why the Chancellor was so concerned." Obi-Wan squinted down at the display unit. The figures danced before his eyes; this hyperspace passage was much rougher than it normally was.

"There is word of substantial and rather valuable mineral deposits on the Eastern and, particularly, Southern land masses. Do you think that the Federation will make a play for mining rights?"

The ship gave another wobble, and Obi-Wan rather thought that even his master looked a little green.

Scrupulous neutrality. They were to keep their hands out of the negotiations entirely.

"Did he have a family? Was there a spouse? Any children?"

Obi-Wan bit his lip, flipped through the file, then looked back at Qui-Gon. "I can't find mention of any, Master. Perhaps he was too busy."

Perhaps, too, in retrospect, it would have been wiser not to mention the fact that the brother had died young, that mobilizing a planet's population against renewal of an exclusive and lucrative contract with the Trade Federation tended to take a great deal of time. It might never have come to Qui-Gon's ears, and the Trade Federation had, after all, according to popular rumor, passed off a shipment of ineffective vaccinations on an agrarian commune on the Southern continent. There were heavy casualties; Qui-Gon's brother had been a professor of epidemiology at one of the planet's universities.

He had died, alone, supposedly of suicide.

After digesting the information, Qui-Gon had turned back to studying the planetary gardens that lay beyond the windows.

"Your brother had a habit of doing that, too."

Qui-Gon lifted his eyebrows at the negotiator, and Obi-Wan knew that Qui-Gon had picked up that habit of touching people on the shoulder from Dooku. It was a non-threatening gesture in almost every Republic culture and interaction medium, after all. Useful for reassuring and soothing, and they were milling around in the negotiation chamber while the Trade Federation negotiators stepped out to have a private conference with their superiors in orbit around the planet on a flagship.

"He would do it exactly like you did," the woman said, smiling up at Qui-Gon. "He was such a kind, good man. Quiet, but the bravest I ever knew. Thanks to him, we have such hopes for the future now."

Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon reached out rather awkwardly and touched her on the shoulder.

A few minutes later, the Trade Federation came back and continued to extract every possible concession that they could have ever wanted out of the planetary negotiators without the planetary negotiators even realizing it.

They were sitting in their quarters. Obi-Wan had finished reading back the minutes of the negotations from the day, and Qui-Gon had gone back to nursing his mug of tea. The windows to the garden were open, and it was a little chillier in the room than Obi-Wan would have liked, but Qui-Gon tended to like rooms a few degrees cooler than he did.

Qui-Gon let out a slow breath. He straigthened in his chair a little, then held his hand out to Obi-Wan. "Is there a photograph of him in the file?"

Obi-Wan bit his lip, fumbled with the information displayer for a moment, then looked up. His voice was steady.

"There are a few, Master."

He did not hand the information displayer to Qui-Gon, and after a moment, Qui-Gon reached over and took the displayer from him. Qui-Gon was smiling a little as he scrolled through the menus.

"I would admire him just as much if he had tentacles, an exoskeleton, and three legs, Obi-Wan." He paused, then smiled a little more down at the displayer. "We do have the same big nose, don't we? I have a better jaw, though."

Earlier that day, before the negotiations, Obi-Wan had gone with Qui-Gon down into the city to see the early-morning street markets, and an old woman had given him an extra shranda fruit in his seven-count because he looked so much like his dear brother. Because they were sure to get an honest deal from the Trade Federation for once if one of his family was doing the job.

The fruit was now lined up on the windowsill behind Qui-Gon.

On the last night that they were on the planet, after the negotiated contract had been signed and the Trade Federation had every concession they could have possibly wanted, signed, sealed, and delivered, Qui-Gon slipped away.

They shared a sleeping chamber, and while lying in his bed, pretending to be asleep, Obi-Wan had listened to Qui-Gon slide out of his bed on the other side of the room, gather up his boots from the foot of the bed, take the commonplace planetary clothing that he thought he'd been able to hide from Obi-Wan underneath his blankets. Hesitate for a moment over the lightsaber, then decide to leave it on the nightstand, though he did take the fruit off from the window sill, and the whole time, Obi-Wan had gone very still underneath his blanket. He wasn't sure whether to breathe easier or keep worrying when Qui-Gon left without either the lightsaber or his robes.

The next morning, before Obi-Wan could ask, Qui-Gon told him, flat-out, that he had slipped away to gone to see his mother on the Southern Continent, and they had gone by aircar to the remote lake by which his brother and her son had been murdered -- not died, murdered. Qui-Gon had said it as though it were a fact, and Qui-Gon, in accordance to the planet's death rituals, burned a few scraps of paper and offered up the fruit.

His mother had then shown him a few photographs of his brother that had not been on the databases. He had not, as far as Obi-Wan knew, taken any of the photographs that his mother had offered to give him. Qui-Gon took the rules about personal possession very strictly, was still a good Jedi despite the flashes of rebellion and followed the rules about attachment scrupulously. He still obeyed the Council, and after they left the planet, he never mentioned his brother again, not even when the planet came up in other, unrelated discussion where it might have been useful or informative to mention it.

He avoided all mention of the situation. Obi-Wan suspected, in fact, that he thought of this dead brother more frequently than Qui-Gon did.

Obi-Wan also suspected that this was where his Master's recurring habit of contempt for the Trade Federation had begun.
























Notes: Stop laughing. STOP. YOU'RE HURTING MY FEELINGS. OR SOMETHING.

I know it's plebey, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, and I tried to make this a story about Federation politics and family structure in the Jedi, but no, in the end, it's just about the fact that I've been obsessed with writing something about the parallel quality of Neeson and Fiennes ever since I saw Schindler's List. And then, you know. The Constant Gardener, which left me sitting, stock still, in my theater seat for a full minute after the credits started to roll.

Comments

[mozart.livejournal.com]

Jedi served the Republic best when their neutratlity was unquestionable, and there was always the hint of favoritism on a birth planet.

& the photos you used between sections, especially those where Ralph is smiling and looking natural, it's very touching, because were Qui-Gon to have had a more simple life without the Jedi, I imagine him as that sort to smile in the same way, some alt universe where the two brothers have their arms slung around one another.

I love you, Rhod! I missed your writing so much, you have no idea. And it doesn't hurt that fiennes/neeson is my ultimate rl otp.

I've always, always wanted to write an oscar/amon story, you know, but it just touches too close to home for me to be able to write it without starting on a tangant that has nothing to do with the hot mansex. Oh, but this really makes me want to try.

[mozart.livejournal.com]

bleg. I cant. I opened up a blank document, but I couldn't decide where to begin. Goeth was just such a fucking sadistic bastard, there's no writing him with a heart. Somewhere, there is someone who can capture the schindler list portrayal though, because I got the hint he wasn't one of worst human beings ever born, from the movie, which would be inaccurate a message, but better suited towards romanticizing goeth for feinnes/neeson sake.

If onlllllyyy I could find that person who could write them....

You know, I haven't guilted you about writing me things in ever so long.. XD

edited for shit.

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Oscar/Amon would be the worst thing ever. A crack in the Earth would open up underneath me and SWALLOW me and send me straight down to hell, and no, let me tell you, the thought never occurred to me. And that I still don't have an incredibly intense memory of that scene where Amon is stalking around his Jewish maid and hgdkfjglakdjf;lwierlifjd so wrong.

Anyways. I'm glad the fic worked for you -- and yeah. Man.

some alt universe where the two brothers have their arms slung around one another

*___* I have this long-standing AU in my head where Qui-Gon is a university professor, and yeah. Can't you just imagine an alternate version of one of those black-and-white casuals oup there where Qui-Gon and his brother are sitting in Qui-Gon's garden? Maybe they make it a habit to have Sunday brunch with each other once a week -- outside, whenever weather permitting, inside during the cold months, and one time, Qui-Gon's brother brings his girlfriend over. The two of them are kinda getting serious after all, and she's a photographer, so afterwards, when things are winding down, she wanders around taking some photos of the garden, which is really surprisingly nice despite the fact that Qui-Gon is an engineering professor.

And she takes a picture of her boyfriend and his brother grinning at each other over the breakfast table.

White cast-iron furniture. Mismatched cups and plates. The photographer is gone in a few more months -- ultimately incompatible personalities, and no small degree of fear of commitment on Qui-Gon's brother's part -- but the picture is still there.

*rambles some more* And ahahha. If you miss my writing. :> How can I convince you to watch Horatio Hornblower? It's full of gay, kano. It's really, really, really full of gay.

[neotoma.livejournal.com]

It's not plebe-y. It's rather nifty. The black and white of Fiennes looking out the window really *does* look a lot like Neeson.


Obi-Wan also suspected that this was where his Master's recurring habit of contempt for the Trade Federation had begun.

As opposed to the Nemoidian representative nearly getting them all killed by giving a too-broad order to his droid bodyguard in the comics?

I love how melancholy this one is, though I do wonder what the Jedi were supposed to do there, if they were letting the Trade Federation trick the locals into all sorts of concessions? Were they just supposed to make sure that the food kept coming?

Qui-Gon being notoriously closed-mouthed about what he's thinking, I'm not surprised that Obi-Wan gets the impression that he thinks more about Qui-Gon's brother than Qui-Gon does. I really enjoyed the quiet melancholy in this piece, and I'm glad to see you doing the occasional SW piece again.

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

I'm glad to see you doing the occasional SW piece again.

It's really lovely, actually, to come back to writing Jedi. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are such comfortable writes for me, and I'm really glad that the sense of melancholy came through for you.

And in my head -- though it's certainly not clear from the fic -- the Jedi get sent becaue the Federation is putting political pressure to get the whole thing negotiated and settled before worries about food shortages make somebody look into what Qui-Gon's brother was working on when he keeled over.

Thanks again, man, for the lovely comments. <3

[randomalia.livejournal.com]

YOU CRAZY BITCH. <3

You put this stuff together so well, and you write Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan so it feels a bit like coming home when I read about them. I've missed my SW fandom. And everyone has their different conceptions of the characters/universe, so luckily I stumbled on someone who gets the dynamic as I think it is.

Great pictures too, although the TPM ones are WOE. In the best way.

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

<333 Writing SW does feel like coming home, man. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are just such comfortable characters, and there's something soothing, too, about writing about Jedi because they're so restrained. Even when they're GOING CRAZY, it's still so quiet compared to, uh. Hornblower.

The end of TPM makes me go :/ :/.

[penelyn.livejournal.com]

This was pretty darn cool. The fifth Fiennes picture is very Neeson-esque. But please don't write Amon/Oscar. It would go against all common decency. :D

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

If I couldn't manage it when I was a depraved teenager out to shock the world, I don't think I'd be able to do it now. XD

And thanks for the comments. It's nifty playing with different media to make fanfiction.

[polgarawolf.livejournal.com]

I think this might work better (I might for example believe the two look alike) if the photos between scenes would actually come up as something other than itty bitty boxes with red Xs in them. *Sigh* Hmmm. Well. It's still a lovely piece and actually I do think it's about family and politics and the Jedi and their damned insistence on neutrality unless ordered otherwise by the leaders of the Republic that tends to screw over the very people they should be most protecting more often than not, so I'm glad you wrote/posted it.