Chapter 26 – The Tyrant
Polis Massa
The hangar was silent save for the melodious hum of the Darksaber in her left hand. Shmi's mouth hung ajar as she stared back at Qui-Gon's lined face, sure that she was hallucinating. He couldn't be here. He was dead. She had watched Dooku murder him.
The baby in Qui-Gon's arms made a grumbling sound, prompting Qui-Gon to look back down. "Deactivate your lightsaber, won't you?" he suggested, speaking softly so as not to disturb the baby any further.
Shmi blinked a few times before complying with this demand. Her flesh hand trembled as she pressed the trigger and reattached the Darksaber to her belt.
Qui-Gon looked up from the baby and smiled at her tentatively. "This is your granddaughter," he said, taking a step toward her. "Her name is Leia." Shmi didn't respond, her voice having completely abandoned her. She was too astounded to do much of anything but stare.
Undeterred by her paralysis, Qui-Gon continued walking toward her slowly until they were just a few feet apart. "Do you want to hold her?" Qui-Gon asked.
Shmi shook her head at once, feeling bizarrely intimidated by this child. Qui-Gon ignored her demurral and thrust baby Leia into Shmi's arms. Shmi froze, holding the newborn in her hands stiffly as if she were holding a ticking bomb. The pure light emitted by this child was overwhelming, blinding Shmi with its intensity.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?"
Shmi didn't necessarily agree with this sentiment, but she didn't contradict him. There was nothing beautiful about newborn babies, but if anyone could find beauty in the mundane, it was Qui-Gon.
"How?" she asked finally, her voice sounding hoarse to her ears.
Now it was Qui-Gon's turn to be taciturn, electing not to answer her question in favor of smiling down at Leia who was squirming a bit in Shmi's reluctant arms. "You're not holding her right," he said disapprovingly.
"You take her," Shmi insisted, offering Leia back to Qui-Gon.
"No," Qui-Gon said at once, holding his hands up and shaking his head. "I've held her long enough. She should be with her grandmother for a change."
"But –"
"Look," Qui-Gon interrupted. "She likes you."
Shmi looked down to see that Leia had reached up with her tiny hand and grabbed a tendril of her silver hair. She watched with wide eyes as Leia tugged on her hair a bit and placed it in her mouth.
"She should be nursing," Shmi said faintly as she gently removed her hair from Leia's mouth. "Where is her mother?"
"Upstairs," Qui-Gon said. "I'll lead you there on the condition that you leave your weapon behind."
At this, Shmi's expression hardened. "Excuse me?" she asked lowly.
"You came to finish off the Jedi, didn't you?"
Shmi shook her head and squeezed Leia tighter against her breast. "I came to save my granddaughter from Kenobi," she said. "Is he here?"
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked, visibly bemused.
"Anakin told me what he did," Shmi growled. "I'll kill him."
"Shmi –"
"He wanted to use her as a hostage," Shmi said with a snarl.
"Shmi, please –"
"I'm not giving you my weapon, Qui-Gon," she said sharply. "Besides, I don't need a weapon to kill Kenobi."
"You're not going to kill Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, his jaw clenched angrily at her threat.
"Why not?" she asked.
"Because he's innocent," Qui-Gon insisted. "He would never do that."
Shmi opened her mouth to argue further, but thought better of it. There was little point in arguing with Qui-Gon about this. He couldn't stop her regardless.
"Take me to Padmé," she demanded. "Now," she added firmly when Qui-Gon hesitated.
Qui-Gon glanced down at Leia once more before complying. Turning around slowly, he began to walk toward the elevator from which he had emerged a few minutes prior.
"Stay here," she ordered the clones behind her before following after Qui-Gon. Falling into step with him, she had to shorten her gait considerably so as not to surpass him. His movements were labored and slow, quite unlike the lively man she remembered.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked bluntly.
Qui-Gon chuckled feebly as they finally reached the elevator. "I was going to ask you the very same thing," he said as he pressed the button.
Indignant, Shmi narrowed her eyes and turned to him. "What are you talking about?" she asked in a hiss, speaking softly so as not to disturb Leia who seemed to be quite content in her arms.
Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow and met her gaze with a skeptical smile. "You think I wouldn't find it strange that my wife is claiming to be the Supreme Leader of the galaxy?"
"No," she said, lifting her chin haughtily. "Because it's the truth. I control the Republic now, Qui-Gon."
Qui-Gon frowned but he didn't attempt to contradict her, turning away as the doors to the elevator opened in front of them. He shuffled in and quickly collapsed down onto a wheelchair which was conveniently stowed there for him. Shmi frowned at the pitiful display as she followed him into the lift – it seemed Qui-Gon was too weak to stand for long stretches of time. What had happened to him? His frailty was reminiscent of Plagueis' which she was well acquainted with. He too had relied on a wheelchair most of the time.
"Are you really here?" Shmi asked once the doors had closed and they began ascending.
"Pardon?" Qui-Gon asked, craning his neck lazily to look at her.
"You're dead," Shmi said. "I saw it happen. Dooku killed you."
"Indeed, he did," Qui-Gon said with a thin smile.
"Then –"
"I will explain everything in time, my love," Qui-Gon dismissed. Shmi flinched, having not heard anyone call her something so affectionate in decades.
The two fell into an awkward silence which was only interrupted by the occasional babble from Leia. Glad to have the distraction, Shmi rocked her granddaughter tenderly in her arms, choosing to focus on Leia's round face rather than on Qui-Gon's oppressive silence.
The door opened and Qui-Gon wheeled his way out of the elevator. Shmi followed him down the pristine white hallway, a bizarre sensation of déjà vu striking her all of a sudden. She had spent years of her life on this facility under Plagueis' tutelage. All the while she had been mourning the loss of her husband and son. It was fitting – or perhaps ironic – that she had returned to find them both here waiting for her rather than the other way around.
"Is Plagueis here?" Shmi asked, although she didn't expect the affirmative.
"Sidious killed him three years ago," Qui-Gon informed her plaintively. "He strangled him to death."
Shmi nodded and looked away, feeling an unanticipated wave of sorrow for the man she had called her father for ten years. She had suspected that Plagueis had died after she had left him, having no longer been able to detect his presence in the Force. The fact that Sidious had killed him came as no surprise to her either.
"He loved you, you know," Qui-Gon said unexpectedly.
"Like a soldier loves his blaster," Shmi said sardonically. "I was a tool to him. Nothing more."
Qui-Gon shook his head as they took a turn toward the medical ward. "You're wrong," he said flatly. He didn't expound upon this, and Shmi was perfectly content to let the conversation die there.
They continued onward through the glass double doors of the medical ward. Leia suddenly perked up in Shmi's arms and began to squirm as they persevered deeper into the bowels of the facility.
"She senses her mother," Shmi noted. "She must be Force-sensitive."
"Are you sure?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Absolutely," Shmi said at once. "She is strong like her father."
Once more, she detected Qui-Gon's unease toward this statement, but Shmi paid it no heed. Qui-Gon didn't understand power like she did. Compared to her, he could barely be even considered Force-sensitive. Only she, Anakin, and now baby Leia were attuned enough to the Force to truly appreciate its magnitude.
"Do you fear me?" Shmi asked directly as they approached the distinct Force presence of their son.
"No," Qui-Gon said without hesitation. "I love you."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive, Qui-Gon," Shmi said crisply.
"Believe me, I know," Qui-Gon said heavily. "I know."
"Would someone tell me where my daughter is?" Padmé asked furiously, a vein protruding prominently on her temple as she seethed at Yoda who was standing in front of the door.
"Close, she is," Yoda said vaguely. "Fear for your daughter, you need not."
"Don't you tell me –"
"Padmé, stop," Anakin interrupted abruptly.
"Anakin –"
"She's coming," he said, his heart thudding against his ribcage as he sensed the dominant presence of his mother approaching. Elegius was here, just as Yoda had said.
"Get out of the way," he brusquely ordered Yoda as he drew his weapon from his belt. Yoda complied with this demand casually, traipsing away toward the corner of the room where Obi-Wan was standing with Senator Organa. Activating the emerald blade without hesitation, Anakin held his father's lightsaber by his shoulder as he prepared to face his mother…
The door to the operating room opened without warning, the automatic door sliding away with a soft whoosh. Anakin tensed his arms and tightened his grip on his lightsaber…
"That looks like my blade."
Anakin's body froze as his heart which had been beating furiously up to that point seemed to stop. Emerging from the door was not Elegius, but a weathered old man with flowing white hair which went below his shoulders. His face was lined and his form emaciated, but the bright blue eyes were unmistakable.
"Dad?" Anakin asked hoarsely as the aged man struggled to his feet, rising out of a wheelchair.
"Anakin," Qui-Gon said with a watery smile as he took a step toward him. "My son."
Anakin deactivated the lightsaber in his hands and dropped the hilt unceremoniously to the floor. Tears streamed down his face as he rushed toward his father and hugged him with perhaps too much strength. "Ani, I can't breathe," Qui-Gon protested as he patted Anakin on the back feebly.
Releasing him, Anakin took a step back and blinked furiously as he processed the incomprehensible sight before him. His father chuckled, clearly amused by his bewilderment.
"I don't understand," Anakin said finally. "You're dead!"
"Everyone keeps reminding me of that," Qui-Gon said with a snort.
"Master?"
Qui-Gon shifted his attention away from Anakin toward Obi-Wan who was staring back at his old master with his mouth hanging open.
"Hello, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said warmly.
"Yes, yes, it's very nice. Do you mind if I come in now?"
Bemused, Anakin looked behind Qui-Gon to see his mother standing in the doorway carrying something in her arms. At once, Anakin remembered his earlier intentions and summoned his lightsaber back to his hand and activated the blade.
"Anakin, put that away," Qui-Gon said sternly as he stepped aside, allowing Shmi access into the room. Stepping around the wheelchair in her way, Shmi entirely disregarded Anakin as she walked toward Padmé's bedside.
"Stay away from her!" Anakin bellowed, stepping quickly in between her and Padmé who was watching the proceedings with wide, terrified eyes.
"Shh," Shmi shushed him with a frown. "You'll bother Leia."
"Leia?" Anakin repeated.
"And put that lightsaber away," Shmi said strictly. "That's an order."
Utterly bewildered, Anakin glanced at Qui-Gon who nodded. "Listen to your mother," he said with a half-smile.
Complying with his parents' request, Anakin deactivated the blade once more and reattached it to his belt. Placated, Shmi's stony expression softened and she took a step toward him.
"Here," she said, extending her arms to him. "Take her."
Only now did Anakin look down to see that Shmi was holding a baby in her arms. Stunned, Anakin accepted Shmi's offer with the utmost care. As she was transferred into her father's arms, Leia squirmed a bit and snuggled up close to his chest.
"Is she alright?" Padmé asked in a panicky voice.
"She's okay," Anakin said faintly, feeling slightly lightheaded as he turned around to face Padmé. With everything that had just happened in the past thirty seconds or so, it was a miracle he had been able to maintain calm as well as he had. Perhaps Leia had instilled a purpose within him – despite the insanity of what had just happened, he was nevertheless determined to preserve a modicum of stability for his daughter's sake. Therefore, while his legs shook and his head spun, he kept his arms still and strong as he held Leia securely to his chest.
Perhaps that was what it was to be a parent, Anakin thought suddenly. The sense of responsibility he felt toward his two newborn children superseded everything else. Even though he desperately wanted to ask his parents what was happening, he forced himself not to so as to devote his full attention to Leia.
"She seems a bit antsy," Anakin noted when Leia continued to squirm in his arms.
"She needs her mother," he heard Shmi say from behind him. "Why don't you take the gentlemen out into the hallway, Qui-Gon? Leia needs to nurse."
"Very well," his father said.
"Wait!" Anakin said in a high voice. "I'm not leaving you alone with Padmé. No way!"
"Why not? Do you not trust me?" Shmi asked innocently.
"No!" Anakin exclaimed. "Obi-Wan told me what you did! You had the Jedi killed!"
"I did no such thing," Shmi growled.
"Don't lie!"
"Anakin, please," Qui-Gon interrupted, holding his hand up to Shmi to stop her from retaliating. "Padmé will be fine with Shmi."
"But –"
"I'll be fine, Ani," Padmé assured him. "Shmi won't hurt me."
Anakin turned back to her and faltered. "Are you sure?" he asked.
Padmé nodded as she readjusted Luke in her right arm. "Give me Leia," she said, gesturing with her now-free left hand. "You go talk with your dad."
Anakin hesitated for a moment longer before acquiescing. He lowered Leia down to her mother, but not before giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. Upon ensuring that Padmé was capable of holding both children securely, Anakin turned around and met Shmi's gaze.
"We'll be right outside," he said in a husky voice.
Disregarding his obvious apprehension, Shmi pushed past him toward Padmé's bedside. Anakin watched for a moment longer before allowing Obi-Wan to pull him away out of the room and into the hallway. As the door closed behind him, he followed the procession of men down the hallway so as to give Padmé and Shmi some privacy. At the head of the group was Qui-Gon who led them away a few dozen meters before spinning around in his wheelchair to face them all.
"I can't believe this," Obi-Wan said, crossing his arms in front of him as he came to a stop next to Anakin. "How can you be alive?"
Qui-Gon glanced at Yoda before responding, his eyes twinkling with characteristic mischief. "It's quite simple, really," he said with a grin. "I never died."
"But how?" Obi-Wan asked incredulously. "I saw Dooku kill you with my own eyes! He stabbed you in the chest!"
"That is what he wanted you to see," Qui-Gon said vaguely.
"What does that mean?" Anakin asked.
"I will explain everything in time, but we have far graver questions to address first," Qui-Gon said seriously.
"I disagree," Anakin objected, a sudden burst of anger surging within him at this diversion. "You abandoned me! You let us think for three years that you were dead!" Qui-Gon pursed his lips and gave Anakin an inquisitive look, yet he offered no explanation. "I… I needed you," Anakin said, his voice trembling as he raised an accusative finger to his enfeebled father. "You let me go through all of this alone."
"Anakin, calm down," Obi-Wan said in his ear.
"No!" Anakin yelled, turning on Obi-Wan quickly. "I have every right to be angry!"
"You do, but –"
"He let us grieve needlessly for three years!" Anakin exclaimed. "How hard would it have been to just send us a message?" he asked to Qui-Gon who was looking back at him with a pained expression. "A sign that you were still alive!"
"Anakin, I'm sorry –"
"That's not good enough!" Anakin roared, but his vehemence was undercut by the tears welling up in his eyes. He was angry, yes, but distraught just as much. Why had his father forced him to endure the agony of watching him die? Had he not even considered how traumatizing that had been for him? Did he think that he could just waltz back into his life now and think that nothing had changed?
Unswayed by this emotional display, Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes and got to his feet arduously, his arms shaking as he pushed himself upward with the armrests. "You have been tainted by the darkness, my son," he said as he took a step toward him. Caught off guard by this assessment, Anakin lowered his finger and opened his mouth to defend himself, but Qui-Gon cut him off. "Your mother has been warped by power and greed," he said solemnly. "You must not let that happen to you as well."
"Am I not allowed to be angry?" Anakin asked incredulously. This didn't sound like the Qui-Gon he remembered. His father had always been understanding and forgiving. The man before him resembled Master Windu far more so than he did his father.
"Your anger is unfounded," Qui-Gon growled, taking another step toward him and thrusting a finger into his chest. "You have given me no time to explain myself, yet you have already made up your mind that I betrayed you." Anakin shook his head, but Qui-Gon continued. "You are looking for an excuse," Qui-Gon said, pressing his finger more forcefully into Anakin's chest before retracting it. "You want to be like your mother. You want to succumb to the dark side."
"That's not true at all!" Anakin protested in aggrievement.
"You've tasted it, haven't you?" Qui-Gon asked. "The power of the dark."
"What do you know of the dark side?" Anakin challenged, studiously diverting the conversation away from this troubling topic. The truth was that Anakin had tasted the darkness just like Qui-Gon had said, and he was afraid of himself because of it.
"I know enough to know that you crave it," Qui-Gon said. "I see what your mother has become. Don't you follow in her footsteps."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Anakin said bitterly. "You haven't seen me for three years. You barely know who I am anymore."
Qui-Gon flinched and took a step back, the trenchant remark hitting him hard like a slap across the face. At once, Anakin felt guilty, but that didn't mean he regretted what he said. Who was Qui-Gon to tell him what to do after having abandoned him for three years?
"Shmi must be stopped," Qui-Gon said finally as he walked back to his wheelchair and sat down heavily. "At the very least, you agree with me on this, do you not?"
"Of course I do," Anakin said, indignant at the implication.
"Then let us work together," Qui-Gon implored. "Hate me all you want, but please listen to me at least for now."
Anakin hesitated as he glanced over at Obi-Wan who was watching him with trepidation. "I don't hate you, father," he said softly, returning his gaze to Qui-Gon.
Qui-Gon stared at him silently for a few moments, his expression unreadable. "You, me, and your children are the only people in the galaxy whom she cares about," he said finally, choosing not to address Anakin's admission. "It is therefore up to us to convince her to relinquish power."
"And then what?" Organa asked, inserting himself into the conversation. "Restore power to the Senate?"
"I have no idea," Qui-Gon said, rubbing his forehead wearily. "Politics aren't my arena, nor are they Shmi's. First we have to convince her to stop, then we can talk about the future."
Organa nodded, a subtle frown on his lips evincing that he was far from reassured by Qui-Gon's vague statement. "Convince her, can you?" Yoda asked after a tenuous silence.
"If Shmi is still in there, she will listen to us," Qui-Gon said as he stared blankly at the floor. "If she has been consumed by Elegius, there is little I can do."
"How can I be a mother if I can't even breastfeed?" a deeply frustrated Padmé bemoaned as she passed Luke off to Shmi who was seated in a chair by her bedside.
"Don't say that," Shmi said sternly as she accepted the ever-calm Luke and nuzzled him against her chest. "You're under a lot of stress right now. In time, it will work. I guarantee it."
Padmé shrugged morosely and sighed as she covered herself up. The typically refined senator looked especially flustered and she was clearly exhausted. Her skin was uncommonly pale and strands of unkempt hair were sticking to her sweaty forehead. Reorienting Leia with her left hand, Padmé half-heartedly attempted to brush the hair out of her face with her right as she turned to Shmi with skeptical eyes.
"I mean it," Shmi said candidly. "I wasn't able to feed Anakin for months after he was born."
"Really?" Padmé asked, her interest piqued.
"I was captured by slave traders on Tatooine just before I gave birth," Shmi recounted, frowning slightly as she recalled the dark period in her life which she had all but blotted out of her memory by now. "I was terribly stressed, as you can imagine. You've had to endure similar hardships."
"Nothing compared to you," Padmé said as she cradled Leia with both arms once again. Shmi smiled faintly, feeling a gush of affection toward the younger woman. It was strange, but it seemed that out of all her relationships, hers with Padmé seemed to be the most stable at the moment. That was certainly ironic considering how much she had despised her son's lover just a week prior.
"Shmi, can I ask you something?" Padmé asked suddenly.
Shmi looked up and refocused her eyes. "Of course, dear," she said warmly.
Padmé met Shmi's gaze and hesitated, no doubt intimidated by her glowing eyes. Looking back down at Leia, Padmé regained her resolve. "What really happened on Coruscant?" she asked, speaking to Leia rather than to Shmi, clearly too intimidated to ask this question directly to her face. "Anakin said… he said that you had the Jedi killed."
"Anakin is wrong," Shmi said in a low voice. "I did not give any such order."
"But then –"
"You should rest," Shmi interrupted curtly. This was not something she wanted to get into with Padmé right now. In fact, she'd prefer to never have this conversation with her at all, if that was possible.
Standing up abruptly, Shmi walked over toward the crib in the corner of the room which the medical droids had provided. Setting Luke down gently into the crib, she turned back toward Padmé. "Have the med droids bring a formula for the babies," she instructed gruffly.
Padmé nodded nervously and watched as Shmi strode out of the room expeditiously. As the door closed behind her, Shmi let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been keeping in. Why had Padmé's question bothered her so much? Was it because she didn't want to disappoint Padmé with the truth? No doubt their thriving relationship would be irreparably tarnished if Padmé learned the full truth, regardless of how justifiable Shmi found her actions. Padmé would indubitably not see things from her point of view. Therefore she had merely decided to run rather than attempt to explain herself.
With a growl, Shmi shook her head irritably as she walked away from the operating room with heavy steps. She was doubting herself once again. That was something the old Shmi Skywalker did, not Elegius. Elegius would not allow Padmé to deter her. She knew that what she was doing was right. She was founding a new order at Plagueis' behest. Everything was going to be set right now that Sidious was gone and she was in power. Padmé would come to understand this in time.
As Shmi took a turn down the main corridor of the medical ward, she faltered when she saw Anakin walking toward her. He too seemed to do a double take, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before he reassumed a neutral expression.
"Where are you going?" Shmi asked a bit sharply.
"To be with my… to be with Padmé," he said haltingly. "How is she?"
Shmi narrowed her eyes and scrutinized Anakin's fidgety expression for a moment. She wasn't sure what had happened between them, but Anakin no longer seemed to trust her. He had been prepared to fight her when she had arrived, although Qui-Gon's miraculous reappearance had prevented that from happening. But why had he drawn his weapon at all? Had Yoda and Obi-Wan lied to him about her? And if so, why had he believed them?
"She's exhausted," Shmi told him. "I'm sure she will appreciate your company."
Anakin nodded and proceeded to walk past her without further comment. Shmi considered stopping him to ask him what was wrong, but thought better of it. She watched him turn the corner and disappear from sight, frowning as she contemplated this development.
Shaking herself out of her stupor, Shmi spun around and resumed her march out of the medical ward. Following Qui-Gon's familiar yet alarmingly weak Force signature, Shmi took a right turn out of the medical ward and toward a conference room. The door slid open vertically as she walked in, prompting the four men inside to look up quickly.
Seated at the head of the table with his back to her was Qui-Gon, a contemplative expression on his face as he stroked his beard absentmindedly with his right hand. Seated on the right side of the table was Obi-Wan and a broad-shouldered gentleman who Shmi didn't recognize. Seated opposite Obi-Wan on the left side of the table was Yoda. The diminutive Grand Master was propped up by a couple of pillows so that he could be eye level with his peers at the table.
"How are the babies?" Qui-Gon asked her without the awkwardness with which Anakin had addressed her moments earlier. It seemed he was far more comfortable in her presence than she was in his.
"Fine," she said abrasively as she walked around the left side of the table and took a seat on the opposite end facing Qui-Gon. "I want answers and I want them now," she said, getting straight to the point. "How are you alive?"
Qui-Gon chuckled and shook his head, incensing Shmi who wasn't used to being dismissed like this. "Do you remember when I found you on Tatooine all those years ago?" Qui-Gon asked suddenly.
Shmi blinked a few times, bemused and irritated by this non-sequitur. "Of course I do," she said. "What does that –"
"You're no doubt feeling exactly as I was then," Qui-Gon said with a smile, evidently apathetic to her exasperation. "I was sitting right across from you just like we are now, yet you wouldn't tell me anything. It drove me crazy." Qui-Gon looked away toward Obi-Wan, a distant expression in his eyes as he recollected. "Anakin and Padmé sat right where you sit now, Obi-Wan," he said. "They were just children at the time. How time flies," he concluded with a saccharine sigh.
"Are you done reminiscing?" Shmi asked brusquely. Surprised by her vehemence, Qui-Gon looked back at her with eyebrows raised. "Answers. Now," she demanded.
Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and tilted his head back. "Can you at least wait until Anakin gets back?" he asked. "I'd rather not have to tell the story twice."
Shmi narrowed her eyes, but nevertheless didn't raise an objection. It wasn't an unreasonable request. "Fine," she said begrudgingly.
Qui-Gon nodded appreciatively and tapped his fingers against the table in front of him. "While we wait, why don't you tell us what you've been up to?"
"On Coruscant?" Shmi asked suspiciously.
"No," Qui-Gon said. "At least, not right away, I mean," he amended. "It's been thirteen years since we've seen each other. I want to know what you did all that time."
Shmi tilted her head as she contemplated Qui-Gon's earnest expression. She had long since learned to be skeptical about others' intentions, including those closest to her such as Anakin or Maul. Cynicism was critical to survival and preservation of power. Plagueis had taught her as much.
With Qui-Gon, however, she never had any reason to be suspicious of him. Sure, they hadn't seen each other in thirteen years, but that didn't mean her trust in him had eroded. On the contrary, it was thoroughly disarming to see both how genuine he seemed and how willing she was to place her faith in him.
And therefore she spoke. Never before had she divulged the specifics of her training with Plagueis – not even with Anakin – but now she found herself recounting that period of her life with vivid detail to Qui-Gon. Yoda and Obi-Wan watched her all the while, but she paid them no heed as she spoke directly to Qui-Gon – to her husband.
She hadn't realized how much she had missed this. Qui-Gon had been her rock back when they had been married and together oh so briefly on Coruscant. She had been able to talk to him about anything and everything. It was with his assistance that she began to emerge from her shell and gain confidence in herself for the first time. Without him, she never would have become the woman she was today.
Yet over the past twenty-three years, she hadn't had anyone to talk to. She had had Anakin and Plagueis, of course, but they couldn't serve her in the way Qui-Gon could and nor did they understand her in the way he did.
"Do you really believe it?" Qui-Gon asked when she had finished telling him about her training with Plagueis.
"Believe what?" Shmi asked.
"What Plagueis said? That you can master both the light and the dark?"
"Of course I do," Shmi scoffed. "I am the master of both sides of the Force, Qui-Gon."
"Are you now?" Qui-Gon said skeptically.
"Do you question my power?" Shmi asked ominously.
"Not at all," Qui-Gon said hastily. "I doubt the duality of that power, that's all. Are you truly in balance between light and dark? To me, you seem far more dark than anything else."
Shmi scrunched her nose, unsure how to feel about this assessment. Was she more dark than light? That's certainly what Maul had thought.
"Impossible, this is," Yoda commented, interjecting himself into the conversation for the first time. "A balance between light and dark, there cannot be."
"So says the Jedi," Shmi sneered. "You're crippled by your dogmatism, Master Yoda. You don't understand the Force like I do. Nobody does except Anakin and myself."
"Anakin doesn't even understand himself, much less the Force," Qui-Gon quipped. "He is powerful, yes, but that doesn't mean he is knowledgeable."
"Equate power with knowledge, you must not," Yoda added.
Shmi shrugged, dismissing this critique as irrelevant. Yoda and Qui-Gon could talk all they wanted about the difference between wisdom and power, but that didn't mean that they could ever come close to appreciating the extent of the Force like she could and how Anakin would in time.
"Even if you have managed to strike a balance, which I doubt, that doesn't mean Anakin can," Qui-Gon said. "Surely you must sense it. The boy is on the precipice, Shmi, and you were the one who pushed him there."
"That is exactly where he belongs," Shmi said lowly. "In the median between light and dark."
"But how long will he be able to keep up this balancing act?" Qui-Gon asked gravely. "He's not like you. He doesn't have control over himself."
"Then I will control him myself," Shmi growled. "Anakin will not succumb to the dark side under my watch. Besides, he has no reason to anymore. Sidious is gone and he has a family to look after now."
"You really think that nothing will change?" Qui-Gon asked. "We need to steer Anakin back to the light before it's too late."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Shmi dismissed with a wave of her hand.
"No, you're the one who doesn't understand," Qui-Gon said provocatively. "Your mind has been so warped by Plagueis that you've forgotten who you are!"
"I know exactly who I am!" Shmi roared, indignation at Qui-Gon's insolence propelling her out of her chair and onto her feet. "I am Elegius and I am the Supreme Leader! Just because you don't like it doesn't make it any less true."
"You're not a murderer, Shmi!" Qui-Gon countered, getting to his feet as well as he pressed his hands against the table to stabilize himself. "Nor are you a tyrant! The woman I know never would have done the things you have done in Elegius' name."
"That woman is gone," Shmi said with a shake of her fist. "I suggest you come to terms with that." Upon delivering this vicious remark, Shmi pushed her chair away with an agitated flick of her wrist and stormed out of the room, leaving a dejected Qui-Gon in her wake.
"Are you still angry at me?" Anakin asked nervously.
Padmé exhaled heavily as she tilted her head back to look at him, her eyes half closed as she struggled to stay awake.
"I don't want to talk about it right now, Anakin," she said wearily.
Anakin swallowed hard and nodded, knowing that it wasn't wise to prod any further. Now wasn't the time for this conversation, but eventually they would need to have it.
As Padmé closed her eyes and sank back deeper into the pillow, Anakin leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead. "I love you," he whispered before standing back upright. "I won't let you down again."
With that, Anakin turned around and walked out of the operating room, turning the light off as he left. Upon entering the hallway, he came face to face to the last person he wanted to see right now: Shmi.
"How is she?" she asked when the door closed behind him.
"Sleeping, for now," Anakin said stiffly as he made to march past her.
"And the twins?" Shmi asked, falling into step with him much to his chagrin.
"Asleep also," he said shortly.
"That's a miracle," Shmi said with a chuckle. "You know, when you were a baby, you wouldn't sleep unless –"
"Why did you lie to me?" Anakin interrupted abruptly, spinning to face her when they had exited the medical ward.
Surprised, Shmi raised her eyebrows and took a half step back. "Lie? I didn't –"
"Obi-Wan told me everything," Anakin said with biting virulence. "You had the Jedi snuffed out even though you told me you wouldn't. You promised you wouldn't!"
"I made no such promise," Shmi said lowly, her surprise fading as she raised a finger toward his chin. Intimidated, Anakin swallowed nervously and felt a sudden urge to run away as his mother's incandescent eyes bored into him. "Nor did I give any such order."
"So you mean to tell me the Jedi all died on their own accord?" Anakin asked, regaining his confidence.
"No, I mean to say that Sidious was the one who ordered their assassinations," Shmi countered, lowering her finger and crossing her arms in front of her chest. "He gave the order just before you arrived."
Anakin blinked a few times, sensing the veracity of her words yet not entirely willing to believe it. "But if you knew… why didn't you stop it? You let it happen."
At this Shmi looked somewhat uncomfortable as she bowed her head away from his gaze. "I did," she said softly. "I let it happen."
"But why?" Anakin asked, outrage bubbling back to the surface at this admission.
"It needed to happen, Anakin," Shmi said, although she didn't sound as confident as she normally did. "The Order was a flawed institution; you and I both know that."
"But that doesn't mean they all had to die!" Anakin exclaimed.
"Perhaps not, but that's what happened," Shmi growled. "It's time to found a new order, Anakin."
"Not on the ashes of the old one!" Anakin protested. "How can you possibly condone what Sidious did, Mom? You're condoning mass murder!"
"I'm doing what has to be done!" Shmi bellowed, causing Anakin to shrink away from her in fear. "I am the Chosen One, not you! I am the one who will bring balance to the Force, and the first step in bringing that about is the destruction of the old order. I have eliminated both the Sith and the Jedi! We now have a clean slate to work with." When Anakin scoffed and shook his head, Shmi continued with even greater vehemence. "Stop holding on to the past, Anakin!" she exhorted him, her voice shaking from sheer exertion. "Let it die! It's time to look to the future!"
Anakin shook his head vigorously as he stepped away from her. He couldn't allow her to get away with this. Padmé would never forgive him if he did, and he was done prioritizing his mother over her.
"You're a monster, Mom," Anakin said, causing Shmi to flinch at the accusation. "Maul was right about you."
Shmi recovered quickly and elevated her chin at him, a deep scowl imprinted on her mouth. "The ends justify the means," she said, sounding as if she was trying to convince herself just as much as she was trying to convince him.
"You're wrong," Anakin said with a shake of his head as he continued to back away from her down the hallway. "I won't let you do this, and neither will Qui-Gon."
"Is that so? Do you intend to stop me?" Shmi asked acrimoniously.
"No," Anakin said, coming to a stop several meters away from her, his back facing the entrance of the conference room where Qui-Gon and the others were waiting. "We intend to save you." Anakin paused, contemplating his mother's expressionless countenance before adding his pivotal corollary. "And if you don't let us, you will never see me nor Qui-Gon ever again."
With that, Anakin turned around and stormed into the conference room, leaving a stunned Shmi alone in the hallway.