Chapter Two: "Mihon"
When I first came to Coruscant, I was nervous about fitting in. Even though I had been assigned a mentor who just so happened to be a friend of my family, I was nervous about holding such an important position with the Galactic Senate. I wanted to do a good job but didn't know really where to start.
Before I had even begun to be acclimated to the position or my new home, I was assigned to a number of committees; the Galactic City Beautification Committee, the Republic Application Committee, as well as the Committee Oversight Committee, which at first, I thought was a joke. I quickly discovered I was too tired to be nervous. All I had the time or energy to do was my job which turned into late nights. I would come home too tired to do anything other than eat a hot meal and go to bed. The next day it started all over again.
On the twentieth day of each month, the Application Committee met. I was often disappointed by the number of systems that didn't meet the requirements of joining the Republic, either due to their lack of technological advances or the inability to contribute anything other than violence. There were several exigencies for admittance that were designed to improve the economic development, discover potentials for trade, or set up a governing body as well as establish a safe environment with set laws.
This was the committee I looked forward to meeting with the most. On today's agenda was the planet Stewjon. Having originally been a colony of Eriadu, its people had worked hard over the past twenty years to become an independent system. On its application, the Prime Minister claimed to have established a reliable trade of Iridium and Raydonium fuel and was looking into the potential for the textile trade as well.
However, Stewjon had its problems, and they continued to be a concern to the Committee. While the northern cities flourished and had established law and order, the southern wards continued to be plagued by high poverty and crime rates. It was the area we were the most troubled by and why a few representatives were being sent there to investigate it.
Along with Senator Organa from Alderaan who happened to be my mentor, I had been assigned to visit Stewjon in order to confirm or discredit the information provided by them, which would either award or deny them admission to the Republic. I was actually looking forward to the trip. It had been a while since I'd been able to leave Galactic City and since Stewjon was a fairly lush planet, I was looking forward to experiencing nature again.
During our flyover, I was disappointed to discover that along with their advances in technology, there had also been an increase in mining production. With that had come an explosion of city development, which had increased the population as well as pollution.
"Out the right portal are the Mihon Wards," our pilot explained. "You'll find the police there are particularly corrupt."
I viewed all I could see through the narrow window and indeed, found the area to be a sad comparison to the grand cities of Stewjon's capital Idoma, and its second-largest populated area of Sendo City. There were eight billion citizens on Stewjon and the disparity between the two areas was startling. While Idoma had been colorfully lit with tall business buildings and grand markets for shopping, this place was dark and cluttered with machinery, criss-crossed by unsightly electrical cables, and littered with debris. It was here that we sat down as this location was our greatest concern.
As soon as I stepped off our ship's platform, I was struck by the odor of rancid machine oil, spoiled garbage, and illegal spice. Our party was met by an aid of the Senator for the Ward, a young woman by the name of Tamar Ralec. My first impression was she was doing the best she could under the circumstances, though it had to be an overwhelming job.
"SANS has been assigned as security in this area, temporarily, of course," she explained as we walked toward a shuttle. "Once they've cleaned up the place, we're going to do a thorough investigation of the police force and eliminate the corruption once and for all. Only then can this area improve and contribute to the welfare of Stewjon."
I had read about the National Security Authority and its tendency to obtain peace through brutality. The shorter the time they were in charge of enforcing the law here, the better.
Senator Organa was mainly concerned with the economy and business opportunities, while I was more interested in educational facilities. After all, long-range improvement could only be obtained through the pursuit of knowledge.
"We are in constant need of good teachers as well as retaining them once we have them," Tamar told me. "The youth here are often tempted by false hopes of obtaining wealth through the sale of narcotics. Sadly, their lives are often cut short through some sort of violent act as a result."
It was a sad story but so common throughout the galaxy's more impoverished systems.
"I'd like to introduce you to one of the Ward's finest instructors if you wouldn't mind. He can answer your questions much better than I ever could."
"I would enjoy that," I told her honestly, picturing an older man in a well-worn vest and cloak, with spectacles halfway down his nose; a patient and caring individual who loved his students as much as his career.
The shuttle stopped just outside of a rather dilapidated multi-storied building with a busted outside duracrete walkway and a few broken windows. For a place of learning, it wasn't very impressive. However, once we stepped in and I found myself surrounded by colorful artwork, sculptures, awards, and displays of engineering student-submitted articles, I chided myself for judging too harshly far too quickly.
Through the first windowed door on the right, Tamra stuck in her head and announced our arrival. The secretary inside approved our visit with a friendly smile and we followed the Aid down a long hallway, stopping before another doorway which was covered with even more impressive artwork.
After Tamra knocked, an attractive man sporting a neatly trimmed auburn beard, with gray-green eyes, and plenty of laugh lines surrounding them opened the door. He was surprised to see us but seemed pleased to welcome us inside.
"Mr. Kenobi came here from the small village of Sillobu and holds many merits in education."
"Hello," he said with a smile that creased the corners of his eyes.
Senator Organa introduced us and explained our reason for being there before Aid Ralec once again described the pitfalls and traps of the area. Frankly, she was starting to appear to be quite cynical and someone who didn't hold much hope for this particular Ward.
Mr. Kenobi was the opposite. He spoke of programs designed not only to educate the younglings but to expand their intelligence to include other areas not offered even in the larger cities. He had found volunteers to provide music and dance training as well as other fine arts programs. They had recently received a grant for their droid engineering program; an area in which the school already excelled, having earned multiple awards in the past several years.
I was impressed not only with the information Mr. Kenobi provided, but with the attitude in which he delivered it. Despite the dangerous elements located just outside the door, inside the school, he was providing a safe and unique place for his students to learn. No wonder he had received accolades for his efforts.
"How long have you been working in the Mihon District?" I asked him.
His gaze was quite captivating and I began to see how his students may favor him; especially the female ones.
"About fifteen years," he replied.
I was curious. I had learned through my research that Sillobu was a charming and quiet place to live and raise a family. Why would he want to leave it to come here?
"If I may ask, why did you choose employment in this area when Sillobu is so…" I wasn't sure how to describe it without offending Mihon.
"I was up for a challenge," Mr. Kenobi answered quickly, adding a boyish grin.
"I'd like to look at some of your engineering activities," Bail Organa requested while I decided to poke around the art area. There were very talented young people in this district and they had created some wonderful pieces. As I was studying some of them, a crowd of students began filing into the room. They immediately paused at the sight of visitors before returning to their assignments. Along with them came an assistant; a younger female with her blond hair held in a high tail and donning a tightly fitted bodysuit. Personally, I thought she was wearing too many cosmetics, but she seemed friendly and eager to introduce herself.
"I'm Iris. I'm Mr. Kenobi's assistant, although I've just got one more year before I get my educational certificate."
I wasn't necessarily interested in the information she could provide, although I had a feeling she was going to give it to me anyway.
"Will you work here in this Ward once you've graduated?"
"Here?" she asked, looking affronted. "No way! I picture myself in Sendo or Kahchino, where you don't have to beg for supplies. They have more money there than they could ever spend."
"Why doesn't Mr. Kenobi work in those places?" I asked, realizing perhaps this young woman may answer the questions I wasn't certain the instructor would. I discovered my gut instinct had been right on target when Iris leaned forward and her voice dramatically quieted.
"I hear he got kicked out of his home town and this dump is the only school that would take him."
"Really?" I asked, trying to act interested, although I suddenly realized it wasn't an act. I was surprised at how curious I was about this man and I wanted to know more. "Do you know why?"
"You didn't hear this from me," she said with a wink, "but word is he got caught using the Force."
My brows shot up at the accusation. I'd heard of beings who'd possessed such a talent and had been imprisoned or even put to death for revealing it.
"You don't believe that, do you?" I asked her, both of us glancing at Mr. Kenobi who was fully engaged in a conversation about bioclastic bonds with Senator Organa. "I mean, he doesn't look like the type."
"You mean, dark, mean-spirited, and clinically insane?" Iris completed my thought.
"Exactly," I confirmed. "He seems…nice."
"Well, you know what they say: Appearances are often misleading."
Her words rang true since I had just recently been taught that very lesson myself. Once again, I turned my attention to the teacher just as he laughed and flipped back the long auburn fringe that hung down one side of his face. He obviously had a sense of humor, apparently smiled a lot, and was an awarded instructor.
Surely, Iris was wrong about him!