Title: Star Wars AU Episode I: Return of the Sith

Author: HermioneLunaPotter

Setting: Prequels AU - based on the fan theory by Belated Media

Genre: Adventure

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own any of this. I just have a solid (and slightly obsessive) interest in Star Wars.

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

Star Wars AU

Episode I

RETURN OF THE SITH

Turmoil has engulfed the Galactic Republic. The taxation of trade routes to outlying star systems is in dispute.

Hoping to resolve the matter with a blockade of deadly battleships, the greedy Trade Federation has stopped all shipping to the small planet of Naboo.

While the Congress of the Republic endlessly debates this alarming chain of events, the Supreme Chancellor has secretly dispatched two Jedi Knights, the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, to settle the conflict…

Chapter 1: A Change of Course

Naboo System

Two Jedi Knights stand by the window of their starship; a Padawan and his Master. The young apprentice stares wistfully out into the space beyond, contemplating the peace that currently exists in the Galactic Republic and how different it is compared to times long past. He is twenty-five; strong and ambitious, wanting more than anything to prove to his master that he is ready to become a fully trained Jedi Knight. But peacetime has made the Jedi Council complacent. No longer is the threat of the Sith looming over them, encouraging the admittance of many young, green padawans to become Jedi Knights far too early. Now there is peace, and peace leads to slow training and even slower promotions.

Jedi Padawan Obi-wan Kenobi does not wish for war, of course not, but he does wish to become a Jedi Knight. He is ready, he knows it, and though he is young, he is not as young as some Jedi Masters had been when they took the trials. If only his master was of the same opinion. Master Qui-Gon Jinn is wise, patient and a thoughtful teacher. Obi-wan is more than grateful to be his apprentice. But there is no denying how his master's inherent faith in The Force guides all his actions. When The Force wills it, my young apprentice, then it shall be. That is the answer Obi-wan receives whenever he raises the matter of his trials. To say it grates on his nerves would be an understatement.

A glance to the right shows his master is deep in thought, hands clasped behind his back, eyes closed, standing tall and stoic with his legs slightly apart. Meditating. Obi-wan wonders what he is thinking about, whether it is the mundane nature of the task at hand, or whether it is something else, something bigger. Before he gets a chance to ask, his master opens his eyes and sighs heavily.

"I sense something is troubling you, my young padawan," he says, voice soft and wise. His intuition, a Jedi's intuition, is rarely wrong. As useful as it is, it makes hiding his emotions from his master very difficult indeed.

Obi-wan turns his head to face his master. "No, Master," he replies with a small smile. "I was just reminiscing days long gone."

"It is never wise to dwell on the past, my young apprentice," Qui-Gon replies wisely.

"I know, Master. But sometimes I can't help but think things were better in the past."

At his words, his master's expression hardens, a serious air to it all. "There is peace throughout the galaxy, Obi-wan. This is a time for rejoicing. Surely, you do not regret peace?"

Sighing, Obi-wan's hand comes to rest on his lightsaber hung at his hip, feeling the smoothness of it against his fingertips. The only time he's had to wield it is during training sessions with his master, or fellow padawans. He was too young when the Lord of the Sith was defeated. He has never known war or what it is to battle with another, when the end result is a life lost.

"Of course not, Master. But look what peace has done to the Order." he proceeds cautiously, knowing it would not be wise to voice such opinions with other ears present. "We used to be Jedi Knights, fierce protectors of the galaxy, fighting for peace and justice. Now..." he heaves a heavy sigh. "Now we are sent to small planets as negotiators for the Republic."

The words fall on deaf ears, Obi-wan knows, but he can't help but feel at ease now he has voiced his concerns. Whether his master agrees with his views is unclear, for Qui-Gon merely stares off into the star-studded expanse of space, his eyes falling closed once again. "Do not wish for the past, my young padawan," he says after a time. "Those were dark times. Dark times indeed."

By order of Supreme Chancellor Valorum, Qui-Gon and Obi-wan are to journey to the planet of Naboo, to oversea trade negotiations between Naboo and the Trade Federation. There is speculation that the Trade Federation have severed all trade routes to and from Naboo, and, concerned for the welfare of the planet, the Chancellor chose to send two Jedi in secret to investigate these claims before they reached the Senate.

The job is mundane, Obi-wan knows this, but necessary all the same. As his master often says, Jedi are peace keepers and sometimes, to keep the peace, the greatest weapon is diplomacy, not a lightsaber. Obi-wan knows this as well. Yet he is no politician. Perhaps that is why the Chancellor sent Jedi to treat with them, not senators. Jedi will do whatever is right for the Republic. Senators have a habit of being selfish and thinking only of their own gain.

Despite his loathing for the task at hand, Obi-wan is grateful for the opportunity to leave the temple. The last time he left was when he had to construct his lightsaber. He yearns for adventure, and although part of him hopes that this mission will be a success and risk-free, there is a part of him, a somewhat dominant part of him, that wishes for action. Something. Where he has a chance to put his skills to good use and prove to his master, and himself, that he is ready to become a Jedi Knight.

The captain approaches them, Obi-wan can sense his presence before he makes himself announced. "Master Qui-Gon, there is a Trade Federation blockade up ahead, blocking the way to Theed."

Qui-Gon doesn't move from his position by the window, he simply closes his eyes and hums low in his throat. "This is troubling," he says softly.

"Master?" his padawan glances at him in concern, for he has not answered the captain yet and they are travelling dangerously close to the blockade.

"Shall we continue?" the captain asks again, a sense of distress and urgency in his tone. Obviously he is not used to Jedi and their calm demeanour.

Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon shakes his head. "No," he says. The answer disappoints Obi-wan. His young, adventurous soul would give anything to charge into battle against the blockade, as the Jedi Knights of Old would have done. "Captain, are we in range?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Turn off all power sources except for the main generator and keep it on low. Including droids. Await my signal." He turns to his apprentice and beckons him to follow as he makes to leave, robes sweeping around his ankles. And Obi-wan follows, sparing a glance at the captain who looks just as confused as he feels, before catching up with his master, falling into step beside him.

"Uh, master? Where are we going?"

"To an escape pod, of course," is the reply, which is just as vague as the previous commands. When Obi-wan voices his confusion, Qui-Gon just smiles at him. "We cannot conduct trade negotiations if we are shot down by a blockade, my young apprentice. They will be expecting a Republic ship, not an escape pod. We will be able to sneak by the blockade undetected."

Obi-wan nods. It's a good plan. But he's troubled all the same. Why is there a blockade? Why didn't the Council know about this? How long has this been going on for?

"I don't know," Qui-Gon answers his thoughts. "That is what is troubling me the most." He taps the Com-Link on his arm, "Captain, can you hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Stay hidden. We should be finished our negotiations in a few days. Await communication from me. Do not engage by any means, understand?"

"Yes, sir. As you wish, sir."

They enter the escape pod and Qui-Gon seats himself in the pilot's seat, Obi-wan beside him. "Do you think the Council's foresight is failing, master? That Master Yoda is..." he breaks off, not wanting to confess the doubts in his mind. The Jedi Council has never been wrong before. Yet, for them to have missed something of this scale, it is cause for concern. Obi-wan can tell his master shares his worries, he can sense the uncertainty exuding from him.

"I don't know, my young apprentice. I don't know."

They launch the escape pod, sneaking by the blockade as planned, and land in a forest some five hundred clicks west of the Palace. The landing is rough and the escape pod is damaged, but both Obi-wan and his master survive the fall. He goes to exit first, taking his lightsaber in his hands, when his master holds out a hand to stop him, closing his eyes. "Use The Force, my young padawan. Sense your surroundings." Nodding, Obi-wan closes his eyes and reaches out with the Force, nudging his surroundings as his master has taught him. Nothing. Only nature.

Satisfied that they are alone, Qui-Gon gestures for his apprentice to exit the escape pod, following closely on his heels. The forest around them is dense, the ground covered with fallen, trampled leaves, and moss and wet, damp dirt. There is an earthy smell to it, fresh and wet and lush, and Obi-wan can sense there is a water source nearby. Tendrils of soft sunlight peer through the gaps in the foliage overhead, dancing across the forest floor, which looks as though it has been well traveled. The earth is more compacted a few feet where he stands, forming a sort of makeshift path and he reaches out with The Force again, searching for lifeforms. He doesn't find any.

"Where are we?" he asks his master. It hardly seems like an inhabited place. Yet there is the distinct feeling that something is out there, or at least, used to be.

"A long way from the Palace," Qui-Gon answers, a wry smile on his face. "Not to worry, my young apprentice, we will reach our destination soon. Can you sense that?" he tilts his head, suddenly, as though searching for a sound. "There is something close by."

Once again, Obi-wan reaches out with the Force, and notices a definite something that he didn't notice before. It is not human, yet it is not animal. He is not quite sure what it is, but his hand grips his lightsaber beneath his robes in precaution. The something, it turns out, is a native Gungan, so Obi-wan recalls from his studies. The creature is humanoid with long ears, leathery skin of mottled burgundy, and long legs. Round eyes sit atop stalks above the head and the mouth is almost bill-shaped, giving the creature a ridiculous comical appearance. It stares are the two Jedi in mild curiosity, eyes unnaturally wide.

Completely unarmed, it is no threat to the Jedi and so Obi-wan removes his hand from his lightsaber, glancing at his master.

"Whosa yousa?" the creature demands in a high-pitched, fractured tongue. Obi-wan is surprised that it can speak; Gungans are known as a very primitive species back at the temple.

It is Qui-Gon who introduces them to the Gungan, speaking slowly and patiently as he would to a small child. "Greetings, Gungan, we are Jedi. We mean you no harm."

The Gungan nodded his head. "Jedi. Meesa know of Jedi-i. Meesa Jar Jar Binks." He walks forward, standing two heads taller than Obi-wan and points at them with one of his four fingers. "Why yousa here?"

"We need to get to the Palace," Qui-Gon explains patiently. Obi-wan is grateful that his master is handling the conversation, he thinks they might have more a chance without the help of the Gungan, for his voice is loud and he attracts attention. If there is indeed an enemy nearby, no doubt they can hear this interaction. He keeps his hand braced on his lightsaber just in case.

"Da Palacesy?" Jar Jar Binks squeaks, his round eyes growing larger atop his head. "Why yousa want to go day? It isa dangerous, yessa."

Dangerous? Obi-wan frowns and looks to his master, noticing the same troubled expression upon his face. This mission is slowly becoming more and more confusing. What else does the Jedi Council not know?

"What kind of danger?" Qui-Gon asks, though Obi-wan can sense the uncertainty in his voice. He can feel it too, the disturbance in the force.

The Gungan nods his head frantically, looking rather comical as he waves his arms around and his ears and eyes flap along with his movements. "Meesa sees it," he insists, voice raising two octaves in his fear. "Da Naboo, yessa, day are starving, oh yessa. Meesa sees. Meesa hides in da water so day no find meesa. Itsa not safe."

The Jedi exchange worried glances, communicating without words. If there is a seige on the Palace, then the Senate must be told. But, before action can take place, they need more knowledge. And some form of transportation. If they are to free the Queen and take her back to Coruscant, they will need to act immediately before things become more dire. Walking will simply not do. Nodding in agreement, the Jedi turn back to the distressed Gungan.

"Thank you, Jar Jar Binks, your intel has been most useful," Qui-Gon begins, and Obi-wan smirks at the response of the Gungan, his chest puffing out and his head raised higher in pride at the praise. It is a clever move, butter up the Gungan before asking a favour.

"Jar Jar isa happy to help da Jedi-i," he squeaks. "Meesa is wanting to help da Naboo, yessa."

"Actually, there is a way you can help even more," Qui-Gon explains. The Gungan cocks his head to the side, his beak snapping closed and Obi-wan is grateful for the silence. He hopes they can rid of the Gungan soon, because he doesn't know how long he can stand listening to his high-pitched, broken speech. "We are in need of transport. See, our ship," he gestures to the damaged escape pod, "is damaged and we have no way of going to the aid of the Naboo."

"Ah, yessa," the Gungan claps his hands together moronically and jumps up and down on alternate legs, springing high into the air. "Meesa can help! Meesa can take yousa to my master, oh yessa. Meesa find transport for da Jedi-i!"

Without further ado, he bounds off, loping through the forest and the two Jedi fall in behind him, hurrying to keep up with his steps. Obi-wan sighs. Conflict is what he wished for, and now conflict has arisen and he isn't quite sure he wants it anymore.

Royal Palace, Theed

Queen Amidala sits at the end of the long, mahogany table, staring down at her courtiers whilst they bicker and argue about taking action against the Trade Federation. She remains impassive, listening to each of their arguments in turn, politely acknowledging them but showing preference for neither. Two weeks this blockade has gone on, and still there is no solution. Many of her courtiers believe they should fight back, assemble all Nubian forces and strike out against the Trade Federation. But, as always, there are many who believe sitting idle and waiting is the best course of action.

The Trade Federation are responsible for the opening and closing of trade routes in and out of the Naboo system. Without them, trade would cease and many of her people would starve. Amidala knows this. She knows how important trade is to Naboo, and yet, she can't help but agree that action needs to take place. Not the mercenary kind, oh no, but Queen Amidala is a firm believer in democracy, and it is this belief that drives her to make the following statement.

"The Senate must be informed," she remarks loudly, over the top of her bickering courtiers. They fall silent the moment the words fall from her lips, all eyes gazing at her. She maintains her diplomatic facade, something she has perfected over her short time as Queen.

"Your Majesty," Governor Sio Bibble addresses her, rising from his seat to her left. "All communications to Coruscant have been blocked by the Trade Federation."

"Aye," Minister Cyan Whent nods in agreement. "We have no way of contacting the Senate, your Highness. And we cannot leave Naboo. The blockade prevents any ship from entering or leaving our system."

Amidala pauses. This she already knows. Before the Trade Federation launched their blockade, she had managed to contact Supreme Chancellor Velorum, seeking help in order to reopen negotiations diplomatically. Unbeknownst to the Senate, the Chancellor dispatched two Jedi Knights to oversee such negotiations. However, they should have arrived by now. The presence of Jedi will surely intimidate Viceroy Nute Gunray, or at least, abate him enough to begin negotiations.

"I hear your concerns, but I have already made contact with the Senate, before the invasion took form. Two Jedi are expected to arrive any day now, to assist me when I reopen trade negotiations."

The uproar caused by her words is one that she was prepared for. The involvement of Jedi, means the situation is more dire than originally forethought. Jedi are peacekeepers, yet they are acclaimed more for their prowess with their weapon of choice - the lightsaber - than their diplomacy. Jedi are not politicians. They will act in the way they perceive will cause the least casualties to the citizens of Naboo - which may or may not be agreeable to her court. Yet, Amidala knows there is no other way. If she is to reopen negotiations with the Trade Federation, she needs a show of force by her side, and the presence of two Jedi will surely make an impressive sight.

"You cannot reopen negotiations," Marissa Zanduli exclaims. "Your Majesty. The Viceroy will not agree to any terms unless they involve him taking occupation over Naboo."

Amidala nods her head towards the speaker, before standing up. Though short in statue, she exudes a calming presence over her court. She has served her people well during her time as Queen. Only fourteen, yet she commands all the attention and respect of a royal three times her age. "The only way to settle this once and for all is with diplomacy. If we take action against the Trade Federation, we may cause war. The Galactic Republic has been in an era of peace for many years. I will not jeopardize that peace by issuing an attack. Diplomacy will reign supreme."

There is a round of applause and she bows her head, dismissing her court for the day. As they file out of the room, muttering amongst themselves, a handmaiden approaches her side and asks if she wishes to retire to her chambers. With a nod of her head, Amidala glides out of the room, her gown swishing around her ankles elegantly, two handmaidens trailing behind her and her head of security, Quarsh Penaka flanking her left side.

As she reaches her chambers, she bids Penaka goodbye and enters with her handmaidens, who swiftly guide her over to her dresser. Amidala glances over her reflection, noting how different she looks when done up in her royal makeup as befit a Queen of Naboo. Her face is pale white, her lips painted blood red and her hair done up in an elegant, regal fashion. She adores being Queen; nothing is more important to her than her people and serving her home planet well. It is rare for a monarch to be so young and she feels a great pride in being elected as Queen at such a tender age. And yet, despite that, she often feels a stranger under the royal garb. At times she forgets that she is Padmé Naberrie, a young teenage girl with high political aspirations and strong morals. She has not seen her family in months; she misses the Lake Country where she grew up, where she would play in the water with her sister and swim out to all the islands. Of course, she would not give up her position for anything - she could not let her people down. But, she misses her childhood all the same.

"Are you alright, milady?" her handmaiden, Sabé, asks her as she works on her hair until her chestnut curls cascade down her shoulders. They look alike, so it makes sense that Penaka wishes Amidala to use Sabé as a decoy when negotiating with Viceroy Gunray. Amidala protested at first, insistent that she was more than capable of handling herself in dangerous situations, but her head of security was firm. You are too important to your people to die, Your Majesty, he had told her in his gruff voice and eventually, she had conceded to the plan.

"Yes, Sabé," she responds wistfully, as her handmaiden brushes out her hair gently. "I'm just thinking." The girl nods, remaining silent and continues to brush her hair. "Are you nervous?" she probes her.

"No, milady," Sabé responds immediately, as though she is trained to answer so quickly. As a royal handmaiden, it is expected to react as such, and Amidala pays close attention to her handmaiden's mannerisms. She will have to adopt them when they trade places. "Your Highness has asked this of me and I will not disappoint you."

Amidala smiles at her formality. "I have much faith in you, Sabé. Sometimes, I believe you would be an even greater Queen than I am."

The girl blushes furiously at the praise, setting the brush on the table and taking to wiping Amidala's face clean of her royal makeup. "Your Highness is too kind. There has never been a greater Queen than you, milady."

The compliment made her uncomfortable. Amidala did not want to be a great ruler. She merely wanted to be a great servant to her people. To lead was to serve, and she hoped she did just that.

Once her face is clean, she is stripped out of her gown and into casual, loose pants and a flowy blouse that is cut to expose her midriff, with billowing sleeves. Her hair is pulled back behind her hair, separating into three braids decorated with different coloured bands. Light, canvas shoes are on her feet. She looks the part of a handmaiden now, rather than a Queen. And she can't deny that the garb is far more comfortable. Without the makeup, she feels somewhat naked, but she supposes it's for the best.

Sabé will make a good decoy, she thinks to herself as she stands out on her balcony, looking out over her home planet. It is peaceful below, and she feels a certain pride in her people, for going about their daily lives as though there isn't a trade blockade looming above them, stopping shipment in and out of Naboo.

"Milady, come away from the window. It's not safe."

Amidala turns to see Sabé standing before her, looking every part the Queen and smiles fondly at her handmaiden. "I should be the one calling you 'milady'", she says good-naturedly. "Don't fear, Sabé. Everywhere is safe for a handmaiden."

Otoh Gunga

"Have you treated with Gungans before, Master?" Obi-wan asks as they wait patiently in front of the Gungan King, Rugor Nass, as he spoke to Jar Jar Binks in the native tongue of Gunganish.

"Once," Qui-Gon replies. "When I accompanied Master Yoda here to collect a Force sensitive child." The comment surprises Obi-wan. He doesn't think Gungan's are intelligent en"ough to be Force sensitive. With a start, a sudden image of the moronic Jar Jar Binks wielding a lightsaber and squeaking, "meesa Jedi," appears before his eyes and he blinks frantically in desperation to rid the frightening image. Beside him, his master chuckles under his breath, obviously having seen what his apprentice had imagined. "They are not easy beings to treat with, my young apprentice," he continues. "They are strongly prejudiced against those of higher intelligence. They may not help us."

The Gungan King is even more comical in appearance than Jar Jar Binks. With a round head, even rounded, plump belly and green skin, he sits high on his throne, looking every part the leader. He is an Ankura Gungan, the fatter, squatter subspecies, or so Qui-Gon explains as they wait for him to address them. Presently, he seems to be scolding the younger Jar Jar. By the tone of his voice alone, Obi-wan can tell that it is not a pleasant conversation.

As Gungans are amphibious, their main residence, Otoh Gunga, resides under a lake in Naboo. The two Jedi were required to wear special breathing masks on their descent towards the Gungan capital, but Obi-wan would be glad to be above ground again. Though a confident swimmer, he feels more comfortable when he can breath oxygen freely.

"Jedi-i," the Gungan King booms in his low, frog-like voice. His beady, orange eyes are trained on them and he beckons them forward with a four-fingered hand. They comply, as Jar Jar slinks off into the shadows, quietly humble. "Jar Jar isa bad Gungan for bringing yousa here."

Qui-Gon bows low in front of the King and Obi-wan follows suit, bending his knee and keeping his head facing the floor. It will not do to insult the King when they desperately need his help. "Your Majesty," his master begins grandly, still on his knees. "I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. This is my Padawan Obi-wan Kenobi. We come in peace, seeking assistance."

The King squints down at the Jedi, clasping his hands together and tapping his fingers. "Meesa knows why yousa come here."

Rising, Qui-Gon steps forward, gesturing for Obi-wan to remain where he is with a small hand gesture. It is one he has seen many times, a gesture that means, let me do the talking, my young apprentice. "Our ship is damaged. We are on our way to Theed and are in need of transportation, if Your Majesty would be so gracious."

Clicking his tongue, the King hums gruffly. "Yousa want to help da Naboo. Weesa no liked da Naboo. Da Naboo tink day so smarty, day tink day brains so big."

A hum of agreement erupts from the surrounding Gungans and Obi-wan watches the reactions with mild interest. If so many Gungans are enemies of the Naboo, why did Jar Jar Binks bring them here? He ponders the thought for a moment but decides to let it go, seeing as Jar Jar is a simpleton and probably doesn't know any better.

"The Queen requested our assistance, Your Majesty. We are required to assist her with trade negotiations."

Rugor Nass merely laughs, a great booming laugh, and clicks his tongue again. "Weesa no care for trade negotiations," he exclaims. "Weesa live here wiz no trade. Weesa live in peacey."

"Please, Your Majesty," Qui-Gon pleads, though not embarrassingly so. "There is a blockade stopping supply routes in and out of the Naboo. If we do not aid the Queen, the people will starve."

The King ponders his words for a moment, a hand coming up to stroke his chin as he clicks his tongue. "Why shoulda weesa care if day starve, Jedi-i?" he asks.

Good point, Obi-wan thinks to himself. If anything, the Gungans profit from the blockade. Starving citzens equates to less citizens, and less citizens equates to more Gungan liberty. Food would be more plentiful, competition for land would cease. For the sake of the Nubians, Obi-wan hopes that his master's persuasive skills are enough to sway the stubborn King.

"If the Trade Federation occupy Naboo," Qui-Gon explains calmly, "their presence will not only affect the Naboo, but you as well. They will confiscate your lands, take your children, turn your women into slaves." He is laying it on heavily, but it seems to have the desired reaction. Many of the Gungans exchange mortified glances with each other and there is a buzz of quiet chatter amongst them. Yet, the King remains impassive. "Nubian or Gungan, it will not matter to the Trade Federation. This is why the Queen was reopen negotiations. This is why we must assist her. For her people, and yours."

The speech is impressive and the impact is strong amongst the Gungans. The King sits in his throne, silent and stoic as he absorbs the weight of the proclamation laid before him. "Da Naboo has done nuffing for us. Day has fought wiz us in da past. Why are weesa helping dem?"

Qui-Gon nods passively. "The Queen has no quarrel with the Gungans. I can assure you of that. I am sure, once this threat of invasion has passed, she would be willing to discuss a peace treaty with Your Majesty, if you are willing." Obi-wan almost laughs at the boldness of his master. Hopefully, the Naboo Queen agrees to such vicarious terms. If not, they could be leading the Naboo unknowingly into civil war.

That seemed to spark the King's interest. His beady eyes widened and he turned to one of his council members, muttering in Gunganish so that neither Jedi could understand what was being said. After consulting with several other members of the high council, The King turns back to the Jedi and clicks his tongue. "Very well, Jedi-i. Weesa is giving yousa transport to Theed. But," he holds up a finger, glaring down at both of them. "Weesa need to see dis Queeney. To talk peacey."

Nodding his head graciously, Qui-Gon thanks and praises the generocity of the King as he directs them towards a ship. They board and are sent off with a traditional Gungan farewell. Once they are out of sight, Qui-Gon grins at his apprentice.

"As I always say, my young padawan, the most important weapon a Jedi can wield is not his lightsaber, but his powers of diplomacy."

Obi-wan shakes his head. "I hope you are right about the Queen, Master. If she does not agree to your terms..."

"Then she will be leading her people into a civil war," he explains. "Have faith, my young padawan. If she is a great a Queen as they say, she will agree to them."

The ship breaks the surface of the water and they fly off into the sky, heading for the Palace.

A/N: So, I thought I'd give this a try. I know it's been done to death, but I was inspired and wanted to see what I could do with the characters. It will mainly be told from Obi-wan's and Amidala's perspectives, because they are the two most interesting characters, but occasionally there will be a Sidious, Maul, Gunray, Qui-Gon or Anakin perspective too.

As I said at the beginning, I don't own this or the idea. I just wanted to see what I could do with it. I won't be updating this very regularly, because I've got my own modern AU Anidala fic currently underway (check out The Boy Next Door and the sequel The Girl From Harvard - gosh, I'm pathetic with the whole self-promotion thing but oh well), but I will try not to leave updates months at a time. A few weeks, maybe, but not months (hopefully) - don't hold me to this.

Let me know what you think :) xx