"Why?" Darth Sidious heaved an elaborate sigh. "The question is rather simple. And still you find it impossible to answer to my satisfaction. My orders were explicit. Kill the Jedi, wipe out his gang. You managed the latter, I will not deny that, but the primary objective was the death of Master Jorka. And you tell me that you assumed he would die along with his ship's crew? I warned you, apprentice. He is resourceful and disgustingly lucky. You were injured yes, injured badly, but all it would have taken was a stab or slash with your blade to finish him off." Dropping down on his haunches next to the quivering mess he had left of Maul, the Sith Master was smiling coldly. "It is rewarding to let your prey know it is dying, but not enough reward to risk letting them get away."
Maul's golden eyes, blood-shot and raw with emotion, were gazing up at him. The Sith Master could sense the Zabrak's willingness to prove himself anew, the desire to try again and serve better. And yet, Darth Sidious had a feeling that Maul's past as a warrior, his code of honour and the vast reservoir of hatred that had been unlocked back on Iridonia, were preventing his apprentice from moving beyond rash decisions and actions. Though usually calm and composed on the outside, Maul was a roaring furnace of power and dark emotions locked in an equally powerful body. He had not yet learned discipline, after five years of training with Sidious. Briefly, the Sith Master remembered his own apprenticeship, first with Darth Nexus, then with Roj Kell. Well. Perhaps they both needed to try harder.
Rising again, Sidious threw a last, disgusted glance at the Zabrak's bleeding form, then turned away. If he did not need the apprentice so badly he would have killed him, but unfortunately the time was not right. Sidious had been surprised at his own patience and self-restraint when Maul had come crawling back to him, close to dying and his motivation diminished. But sometimes clemency could be used as the chain to bind a servant closer to oneself. Old Kell had always insisted on what Sidious had thought foolishness only some years previous. Now, though, he understood the value of that lesson. Maul was grateful for another chance, and a little show of caring would boost that gratitude immensely. Maul was prepared to die for his master. Now all Sidious had to do was direct his apprentice's desire against the proper foe.
"You need to recover," he said in a gentle tone, smiling benvolently to himself. "This was the first time you confronted a Jedi Master, and they are dangerous foes, no matter how debiliated. Perhaps you understand now why we were forced to hide after the disaster of Ruusan. Yes," he breathed, "we had to stand back and bide our time, but just as the glorious Darth Bane predicted, we are almost ready to reveal ourselves and strike back. Almost. Maul, my apprentice, you and I are so very lucky to be the ones to bring Bane's legacy to fruition. You and I." He turned to face the Zabrak once more, and found the younger man sitting upright, the fervour in his golden gaze infectious.
"Yes, master," he pressed out between swollen lips, then lowered his head again, half-bowing. "I serve you."
"Oh, I know that, Lord Maul. I know that you do." With those words, Darth Sidious strode from the room, beaming.
He had already spoken to Nute Gunray of the Trade Federation and made it very clear that the Republic's interference had been only thanks to his intervention, and that the Narawa pirates' complete annihilation had been his idea as well. The Viceroy had been suitably impressed, and his plans in the Senate were moving along nicely. Already the issue of the taxation of trade routes was being hotly debated by all senators, and Sidious had another meeting scheduled with Count Dooku to lament the despicably inept handling of the situation on Supreme Chancellor Valorum's part. The count had had enough time to observe the Nubian senator, Sidious thought, and soon now they needed to come to an agreement. The Naboo affair he had planned so many years ago would certainly be of assistance in that regard.
It was quite an easy gamble and it was also the first reward for the Trade Federation's dilligent support over the past. The exclusive treaty that would find Naboo bound to the Neimoidians for supplies and trade, and with the right spin Sidious would put on events, this would lead to all the corporate worlds flocking to his banner. Right now they were in Dooku's thrall, but once he had the count on his side, that would be changing. And once he had the economic power players within his influence, he could begin to dismantle the Jedi Order. For that he also had a plan ready, but what he did not need was Alamys Jorka snooping around, trying to sabotage his plans. And yet, on the other hand the Jedi Master's insistence was refreshing and somewhat challenging.
Of course, that would not change the outcome of their little gamble.
"The Federation ships are still not slowing their progress," Captain Panaka announced, sounding all too calm for Padmé's taste. Frowning at the sensor display in front of them, she was thinking hard of what to do.
"You have tried to establish contact?" she asked at last.
"Tried, Your Majesty, yes. No answer so far," the captain explained. "Shall I give the order for our pilots to establish a fighter screen?"
Padmé gave him a scorning glance. "Captain. These are Trade Federation ships. Anything we have got won't stand a chance against their troops. We need to establish negotiations." She nodded at the display. "Try again. I would not be surprised if they were to contact us first, though."
"Your Highness, where are you going?" he questioned then, concern plain in his voice, when she turned away.
Looking back, Queen Amidala gave him her haughtiest stare. "Captain, whatever the Neimoidians are planning, I will need some time to think on the possibilities. Oh," she added, already turning away, "and I want a meeting with the Advisory Council, including Senator Palpatine. Make it quick."
As she hurried from the palace's comm center, her dark purple robe sweeping across the marble tiles beneath her slippered feet and her five handmaidens flanking her, Padmé Amidala was already thinking hard on the implication sof what coudl only be a hostiel blockade of the Naboo system. She was aware, of course, of the current issues discussed in the Senate, Palpatine was dutifully keeping her informed, after all. But this was an outrage. All the more bitter the fact that the peaceful Naboo had no real chance of fending off the bold attack on the Neimoidians'spart themselves. They had a few pilots, yes, but until the Trade Federation had not made its intentions plain, she could not risk offending them by having her fighters launch. All volunteers, of course.
Squashing the tiny voice of doubt, that nastily scolded her for her people's foolish notions of peace, the queen laid out her plans. First to uncover their intentions, then to respond. hey were most probably hostile, and her only defense then was the Galactic Senate to interfere on her planet's behalf. Palpatine then, was the key. Thank the stars that he was so adept a politician. If anyone could sway the Senate it would be him.
"You Highness!" It was Sabé, her voice lowered cautiously, drawing the queen's attention to the presence of a woman, who stood gazing out over the central square of Theed in front of the palace gates. Almanda Dar. The former administrator and councillor seemed preoccupied, sad, and Padmé waved her handmaidens back as she approached her former rival.
"Are you feeling well?" she asked bluntly, but kept her tone gentle. "How is your daughter?"
A smile appeared on Almanda's stunning features, before she bent low in a formal curtsy. "Your Majesty," she said. "I thank you for your caring. My daughter is well, much to my joy," she told Padmé not without fondness.
"And yourself?" the queen pressed on, careful to lower her voice for privacy.
Almanda looked up quickly, her eyes dark and troubled. "As well as can be."
"Senator Palpatine is a busy man. and he is conscious of his duties. I appreciate that in him very much," Padmé told the odler woman meaningfully, inviting an answer, but Almanda's face immediately locked down, and she rose.
"Forgive me, Your Highness, but I would not know about that. If you allow it, I will retreat to my chambers again. I just came here for - the view." A vague gesture encompassed the square below, and Padmé nodded in understanding.
Almanda had worked very hard for her ultimate goal, to become queen, and had been deprived of her triumph by a cruel twist of fate, if one were to name the delightful child she called her own that. Padmé would not deny her her daydreams. "I understand. You are released, of course," she explained softly.
Almanda turned away gratefully and slowly walked away, as if deep in contemplation. The young queen did not envy the older woman her situation at all. To be a mother, but not have a father for the child must be very hard. Then the sound of bootsteps caused her to look up in alarm, but she quickly saw that it was only Panaka, running to join them.
"Your Highness!" he exclaimed. "A message is coming in!"
Looking from him to Sabé, she nodded in acceptance, then made her way back to the comm center. The message, as it turned out, was a threat and a demand. She read it once, twice, growing angrier by the minute. Then, at last, she looked up to gaze at Panaka. "This is inacceptable," she announced coldly. "I wish to confer with Senator Palpatine, and the Supreme Chancellor. At once."
Cos Palpatine was hardly surprised when the call came in from Naboo. he had been expecting this, if not thr all too calm manner in which Queen Amidala reacted to the impending invasion of their home world. Her face framed by an elaborate head-dress and painted a pure white, safe for a few decorative ornaments, she looked regal and cool, not like a fourteen year old girl at all. But then, wasn't he a master of deception himself? Could he not read the worry behind her calm mask of of royal wisdom? He knew that she feared, knew it in his bones. And yet he was anxious to play his own role, that of the totally surprised representative, who would do everything in his power to restore order and secure help. Even though he had no intention of doing either, of course.
"I have taken the liberty of informing Chancellor Valorum of this outrage," she told him, her first words after describing the crisis, in fact, and suddenly Sidious understood that she was indeed calm and composed. Or else a better actress than he had ever seen on Naboo's throne before.
"The Chancellor?" he sputtered, but caught himself immediately, nodding eagerly. "A good choice, Your Highness. The chancellor will certainly support us. And I will see to it that this affair is discussed in the Senate immediately!" he promised.
The girl-queen gave a generous nod of approval. "Senator Palpatine, I trust your supreme wisdom to mobilize the Senate for our cause. The Trade Federation has no right to legally bloackade a peaceful planet without any provocation. They even dare to demand the signing of a foolish treaty to gain them access to our system and circumvent the taxation of trade routes by using our own seperately brokered trade routes."
The child was clever, no doubt about it. "Your Highness," he began soothingly, raising his hands in a placating gesture, "surely the Trade Federation is acting rashly. This unfortunate incident will be resolved quickly, I expect. Please, trust me and leave thsi to me. I will speak in the Senate and make the representatives of the Trade Federation see reason. With the chancellor to aid us, we will be safe."
"I trust you, Senator," Amidala told him then, her dark eyes never wavering. "And the chancellor. But I must ask you to hurry. We are in no position to fight off an invasion."
"Yes, Your Highness, I am aware of that," Palpatine replied sadly. Oh, didn't he know all too well! "I will begin working on this problem right away."
"See to it."
Once her image had dissolved, he rubbed his hands gleefully, smiling. Clever she might be, but too trusting. And now, he needed to speak to Mas Amedda. At once.
It had not his first mission as ambassador for the Republic, but his first secret one. Supreme Chancellor Valorum had insisted that their destination be kept secret, that no public announcement accompany their departure. Only the Nubian Senator, Cos Palpatine, knew of their leaving, apart from the Jedi Council, of course. To Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn this secrecy had been understandable. Issues being discussed in the Senate at present might taint the negotiations they were being sent on, if their efforts were to be made public and embarrass the Trade Federation. In truth, though, Qui-Gon could not have cared less. Anyone, in his opinion, who erected a blockade against a peaceful world deserved embarrassment, and worse. He had told Yoda just that, and been scolded for his brashness.
His apprentice, as always, had agreed with the ancient Jedi Master.
Qui-Gon heaved a tiny sigh in remembrance. There was not much in his mentor's entire life that found Obi-Wan Kenobi's approval. The young man had an inquisitive mind, and he was questioning everything, except the decisions of the Jedi Council. Sometimes his single-mindedness brought Qui-Gon close to despair. Obi-Wan was always focused ahead, with little regard for his current situation. It had caused his teacher many a sleepless night, during which he had tried to find ways to make his Padawan see the truth of living the moment. But on this mission there would be little chance for Obi-Wan to focus on anything but the present. Or so he had thought.
Days after their arrival at Naboo, and the surprising turn of events that had accompanied it, he now found himself on a back porch, leaning against the small partition wall that marked the Skywalker family's backyard lot on Tatooine. He was watching little Anakin burying deeply into the innards of his pod-racer, prepping it for the upcoming race. A very important one, especially for the impatiently waiting queen back at their downed ship. All their hopes now rested on the boy's ability to win this contest tomorrow. If he did not win, then Qui-Gon needed to come up with a more drastic solution. Not something he would prefer. So he stood here, watching the boy, and observing him closely. The handmaiden, Padmé, and the Gungan Jar-Jar Binks were assisting the boy, but it was clear that he needed little help. He was a wizard when it came to mechanics, his mother had confirmed it, and there was far more to him than met the eye at first sight. The boy was special, there was no doubt about it.
It had been inevitable, that Obi-Wan disapproved of the Jedi Master's gamble concerning the boy, and Qui-Gon was actually glad, that he had left his Padawan with the rest of their company. A commotion by his side announced Shmi Skywalker, and he saw her worn features light up as her eyes came to rest on her son.
"You should be proud of your son," he commented, "He gives without any thought of reward."
"I know," she replied with a somewhat ironic smile. "What else is there for a slave to expect? And I am proud," she added, taking the sting out of her rebuke. "and glad to have him."
Suitably chastised, Qui-Gon averted his eyes briefly. "I am sorry," he said at last. "It must have appeared as if I were questioning your feelings. It must have been hard for you to raise him alone, especially when he was little."
Shmi shook her head slowly. "Not at all. He was an easy child, always. He is special, in his own way, and knows people as well as he knows machinery. He is sensitive, and he has - "
She hesitated, and Qui-Gon felt prompted to finish the sentence for her.
"He has special powers," he explained. "He sees things before they happen, which is why he appears to have such quick reflexes. It is a Jedi trait."
Seemingly startled, the woman looked up at the Jedi Master, her eyes wide. "Jedi," she breathed, as if suddenly realizing something.
"If I may ask," Qui-Gon proceeded, folding his hands in front of him, "who was his father?"
"I - " she hesitated, then looked away. "There was no father," she said all too quickly. "I raised him alone."
"But surely, there must have been someone," the Jedi Master pressed her gently. The expression on her face when he had mentioned that her son carried the traits of a Jedi, there had been something he thought was hope. Or revelation. "Was he sold? Did he die before the boy was born?"
Shmi raised her hand to her mouth, obviously agitated. "I think I did not want to remember, because he left me alone," she confessed softly. "I could not even recall his name until a few weeks ago. As if I had banished his presence from my mind. I don't - "
"If this is too difficult for you," Qui.-Gon assured her hastily, sensing that he was approaching a deep morass of emotions and not wishing to remind her of some gloomy event in the past.
But Shmi shook her head and smiled at him brightly. "Oh no, nothing like that, Master Qui-Gon. He just -- left."
"Do you know his name?" he asked again, quietly this time.
"Alamys," she said. "He came from Tatooine."
"Alamys!" Overwhelmed with shock, the Jedi Master turned away, and his eyes found the boy again, who was still working away at the pod racer, his blond bangs hanging deeply into his blue eyes without his noticing. Alamys Jorka! It could not be! But then gentle fingers closed around his arm, drawing him back into reality.
"You know him?" Shmi's voice was trembling, her green eyes filled with longing.
Qui-Gon took a deep breath, then nodded. "I believe I may indeed know him. A tall man, lean, with blond, slightly curly hair and blue eyes." She nodded eagerly as he continued. "A Jedi Master from Tyreena. His name was Alamys Jorka."
Her face fell. "Was? He is - gone now?"
"I am sorry," Qui-Gon told her then, "but he died over nine years ago. It must have happened shortly after you conceived the boy."
"Dead," she repeated, her voice hollow, her eyes focusing into the distance.
They were silent for a long time, each pursuing his or her own thoughts. Qui-Gon felt as stunned as Shmi Skywalker must be feeling. Alamys Jorka's on! He could not believe it yet. It would explain so much ... The Jedi Master was gripped in a fit of enthusiastic exhiliaration. He needed to take the boy to Coruscant. If he was truly Alamys' son, his potential would be immense. And he would need training. Master Yoda would surely approve of having his former student's offspring trained, even if he was a bit old. His enthusiasm died abruptlx, when he remembered his last encounter with the late Alamys Jorka. The Jedi Master had been mired in darkness, a cold, soulless creature of the Dark Side. Had he been infected already when he had been with the boy's mother? How much of the father really was there in the son? Qui-Gon had told Yoda of that last meeting, acutely aware of the ancient master's warnings and misgivings about Jorka's path. Could he even reveal the boy's parentage, if he wanted him to be trained? He feared not.
"Shmi," he said slowly, laying his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes locked on his, her gaze resigned. "If you approve, I will do anything I can to take your son to Coruscant, and have him trained as a Jedi there."
"He deserves better than a slave's life," she whispered, and tears appeared at the corners of her eyes. "And you knew his father," she continued softly. "I want you to tell him everything you know of him. I never could, and I know he missed him. Still does. If you could help him, I would be very grateful."
He nodded then. "I will do anything in my power, I promise. He will have the life he deserves. Free, and true to his calling. He will be a great Jedi, like his father was." A small lie, that, but that did not matter. All that mattered was the boy.
It had been a miracle. Truly a miracle. Anakin had won the race, despite everything, just as he had promised, and thus won them their freedom. It was still too early for her to appreciate all that he had done for them, she could not yet allow herself to feel anything. First, she had to make certain that her people, too, would be safe. Still dressed in the outfit of a royal handmaiden, Padmé Amidala Naberrie walked into the quiet comm center of the light Nubian cruiser, where she knew a message was waiting for her. Calling the file up, she listened to Sio Bibble's words in silence, registering them with a numb heart. Her people were suffering. She had to do something fast. And all her hopes were focused on Coruscant. With Supreme Chancellor Valorum to aid them, and Senator Palpatine to secure allies in their cause, they simply had to bring the Trade Federation around to seeing reason.
She did not know what alerted her to his presence, but something made her turn her head, and there he was. The hero of the day. With a smile, Padmé walked over to where little Anakin Skywalker was crouched on a rec couch, obviously trying to sleep, and failing miserably. He was crying silently, and she sensed that he was troubled by more than only missing his mother.
"Are you all right, Annie?" she asked, feeling horribly clumsy. Of course he was not all right!
"It's very cold," he managed, hunching his shoulders.
Wordlessly, Padmé removed her thick overjacket and put it around his shoulders. "Space is cold," she told him gently. "Better?"
He wiped away another tear and nodded bravely. "You seem sad."
She almost smiled at that, watching him so valiantly fight his own tears and still having the insight to observe her own grief. A remarkable boy, surely. Worthy of her confidence, perhaps. "The queen is worried," she explained. "Her people are suffering, dying. She must convince the Senate to intervene. Or - " breaking off, she almost shied away from his eyes, wondering if he was even aware of their intensity. There was definitely something about the boy, making her close off her heart once more. The look of hurt that crossed his face at her apparent rejection pained her too, nevertheless.
Suddenly, though, he seemed to remember something, and pushed around in his pockets, until he found whatever it was he was looking for and brought it up before her eyes. "Here. I made this for you," he said timidly. "So you'd remember me by." It was a carved pendant, made of japor, if she was any judge. "Take it. Perhaps it'll bring you luck," he added softly.
Delicately, she took the pendant in her hand, studying it intently. Funny, that, but the carvings somehow reminded her of Tyreenese runes. She raised the leather throng and hung it about her neck, smiling. "Thank you. It is beautiful. But I won't need this to remember you by," she added, sincere. His expression was so full of hope and trust, that she was uncomfortably reminded of what might happen on Coruscant. He thought he had found a friend in her, and had, she would not deny it, but - "When we reach Coruscant, Annie, many things will change. My caring for you will not," she told him gravely.
He gazed at her for a long time, as if to decipher the meaning behind her words. Such inquisitive eyes. They were - disturbing, somehow. "I know," he replied at last. "And I won't stop caring for you either. Only, I miss - "
"Your mother, hm?" Her smile returning, Padmé leaned over to hug the boy tight. She thoughts he knew what he was feeling. When she had first left home, all by herself, she had been even younger than Anakin. And she could also understand his tears as he cried himself to sleep against her shoulder. She did not mind. Holding him close, she shut her eyes, thinking of nothing for once.
She was here! What in Sith's hells was she doing here of all places? Fuming, Darth Sidious threw on his official wardrobe to welcome his queen, as was proper. She should not even have been able to leave Tatooine! With a soft growl and a silent vow of making Maul see the error of his ways yet, the Sith Master stalked from his chambers, and immediately his demeanour changed. His stride was dignified and measured, his posture slightly slouched, an elderly administrator, his shoulders weighed down by too many tasks and duties, his expression one of tired helpfulness. Not one of the pompous fools that made up the majority of the Galactic Senate, but someone who exuded quiet competence. Good, good. He could play this game even here. Had been playing it for years right under the Jedi's noses, in fact. No mere chit of a girl would cross his plans now.
Making his way over to the prescribed landing platform, he mulled over the implications of Queen Amidala's arrival, and his anger reignited as he thought of that damn Nute Gunray, who had lied to him about the queen, and all in all seemed as incompetent and uninspired as the rest of his sorry bunch. Unfortunately he still had need of the Neimoidians. And better to have dim-witted allies than none at all, or worse, allies who were cleverer than oneself was. Such as Count Dooku. But that one would be finally ripe for the taking once this affair was done with. No reason to worry. Stepping onto the platform, he saw that the Supreme Chancellor was already arriving. His shuttle had docked at one side of the platform already, and there was the Nubian cruiser that was bringing the queen to Coruscant. Excellent. It seemed he would have the honour of welcoming them both. Chancellor Valorum was first to disembark, and after some pleasantries had been exchanges the two men were waiting patiently for the Nubian starship to dock safely. Finally the landing ramp was lowered, and the procession of Nubians filed out in good order.
The queen, dressed in black, as befitting the situation, was in the lead, with her handmaidens behind her, arranged in rows of two. Ah, he knew their little game, of course, and his eyes flicked only briefly to the girl standing at the queen's left shoulder. Did she think herself safe in that disguise? Well, not for long. With a bright smile, Sidious bowed to the queen and her retinue once they had joined the two waiting men. He was acutely aware of the two Jedi standing a bit further apart. The ambassadors Valorum had sent. They were back, and, unfortunately, still alive. Nute Gunray would indeed pay for this.
"Your Majesty, it is a gift to see you alive and well," Sidious said, "and so soon." Straightening again, he indicated the tall, white-haired man by his side. "May I present Supreme Chancellor Valorum. You have not met him yet, I know."
"Welcome, Your Highness," Valorum said, on cue, his strong voice belying the weariness in his eyes. "It is an honor to finally meet you in person. I have called a special session of the senate to discuss your request at once. I understand your distress, Your Majesty. We will do everything we can to see this affair resolved to everyone's satisfaction."
"Thank you, Supreme Chancellor," the queen replied dutifully. "The unprovoked invasion and occupation of my peaceful world is indeed distressful. I am grateful for your concern."
"Then, if you may follow me," Valorum offered, "I assume you will want to confer with your senate representative before we begin the senate session."
"Indeed," she answered, and, flanked by the two men, started for the far end of the platform, where another shuttle had been prepared to take them to the ambassadorial complex of Coruscant City, only a few blocks away.
Once inside the air shuttle Sidious used the opportunity to survey their companions. The two Jedi Knights had remained behind to join Valorum, and to report to the Jedi Council, undoubtedly. That left the queen, her bodyguard and handmaidens, a Gungan and a small human boy. What was a child doing with them? Turning away, he almost shook his head in exasperation, but then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the boy scooting over to one of the handmaidens, the real queen, he saw, and whisper something to her. She smiled, then retrieved what looked like a pendant from the recesses of her robes and showed it off to the boy, who gave an approving nod. A gift? How much did the child know? Very strange. And something he should investigate, if time permitted. But first things first.
This senate meeting was his chance to change the game somewhat. It was, he thought, actually a fortune to have the queen here in person. That way he would not be the one who would have to call for a vote of no confidence, as would have been the case had things turned out differently. All the better.
During the entire report both he and Obi-Wan were giving to the Jedi Council, both on the situation on Naboo as well as on the mysterious creature who had attacked Qui-Gon on Tatooine, the Jedi Master had been thinking hard about choices. Years ago a friend of Crion's, Blithe Arkad, had told him that he should follow his heart and his convictions, and Qui-Gon had found that this directive served his conscience very well. His Padawan might not approve, or the Jedi Council, but he was at peace with himself, and that was all that mattered for a Jedi Master. And right now his heart told him that he had to pose a request to the Council now, before it was too late. Anakin Skywalker was Alamys' son, there was no doubt about it. He had checked the sample he had taken from the boy's blood to get a read on the midichlorian count - which was astounding! - against the Jedi Temple's database. There had been only a single match: Alamys Jorka.
Though Jinn had vowed to himself not to reveal the boy's parentage, for fear of having Anakin cheated out of a happier life even before he had even had a chance to begin it, there was no reason not to train the boy. His potential made it imperative, even. So he asked. And was - as expected - almost instantly confronted with the Jedi Council's hostility. But at least he had managed to get them to test the boy. Surely then they must agree with him!
As it turned out, though, the Council was of a different opinion than he was. They refused to have the boy trained. Only on Qui-Gon's insistence did they at least promise to reconsider the boy's fate. And Mace Windu was right: first they needed to resolve the mystery surrounding the queen's attacker. And since Amidala had decided to return to her home planet, both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan would be accompanying her, along with Jar-Jar and - of course - little Anakin.
Upon their return to Naboo, which had not been without risks, he had found out that he was not the only one keeping secrets. It had astonished not only him how Padmé Amidala had been able to fool both him and his Padawan. The young queen was clever, and an adept strategist and politician. Impressive. And now, as they waited for their scouts to return from Theed, and the Gungan army to assemble, Qui-Gon Jinn had a feeling that not all was lost yet. With some luck they'd be able to draw out the Sith creature and defeat even the mighty Trade Federation ships orbiting the planet.
"Master." It was Obi-Wan, who walked up cautiously to the older man, looking worried.
His reluctance surprised Qui-Gon somewhat. After all, they had made their peace once more, had they not? "What is it, my apprentice?"
"There is - " The young man hesitated, cleared his throat. "You told me to focus on the living Force, on the present, Master. There is something, a disturbance, I believe. The Sith Lord, maybe?"
"Possibly," Qui-Gon agreed. The creature had been privy to information that should have been unknown, had found them on Tatooine when no one was supposed to know where they were. It seemed only reasonable to assume that he would be coming to Naboo to confront his quarry again, now that the queen had returned. "Together," he continued, "we will surely prevail. He is quick, though. We must be careful."
Obi-Wan gave a thoughtful nod. "Yes, I shall be careful."
"And keep an eye on the boy," Jinn added sternly, prompting his Padawan to sigh deeply.
"If you say so, Master."
This time it was Qui-Gon's turn to grin at his apprentice's dismal face. "Don't worry. The Force is with us," the Jedi Master intoned gravely. "And now let us see what our precious queen has planned for us."
It had been an easy feat to slip past the outer perimeter of Trade Federation ships in all teh confusion caused by the Nubian cruiser that had entered the system before him. Now, having landed his ship in the swamps and concealed it with twigs and branches, Alamys Jorka was hurrying toward the distant city of Theed. The magnificent palace was visible even in the morning haze, a gleaming brilliance that spoke of nobility and elegance. Not that it had been of much use to the planet's inhabitants once the Trade Federation had made their threat come true and invaded this peaceful world. The former Jedi Master thought he now understood that this was part of Sidious' grander scheme, that the attack on his home planet was well-planned. Unfortunately he had failed to eliminate a few minor vulnerabilities. Unfortunate for him, that was. Alamys was smiling to himself, a feral smile that befitted his predatory gait as he stalked across the plains, driven by determination more than reason. It did not matter when he arrived in Theed. All that mattered was that he would find his quarry there.
To the left the sound of distant thunder signaled a battle taking place, which surprised him somewhat. As far as he knew the Naboo's defenses were harmless, at least to an army as well equipped as the trade Federation's was. But then, the Nubians would be fools if they relied on diplomacy only. To survive as pacifists, they needed to secure powerful allies, and that truly was a contradiction to their openly displayed political stance and the emphasis they put on their souvereignty. To be souvereign, one needed more than adept politicians. Loping closer toward the city, Alamys estimated that he would reach Theed in the late evening, or the next morning. He could not move as fast as he once would have been able to. His age and injuries hampered him immensely, and yet, the rage and indignation burning in his heart and mind were empowering enough. He would get there eventually. That was all that mattered.
The battle of Naboo ended with the capture of the Trade Federation's viceroy and the destruction of the droid control ship high above the planet, executed by one single pilot: Anakin Skywalker. Thrilled as she was by the outcome of this gamble, Padmé Amidala Naberrie was given no chance to rejoice. Into her preparations of arranging her citizens' return form the detention camps the Trade Federation had put them into, the news of Qui-Gon Jinn's death was carried by a very somber Obi-Wan Kenobi. The young Jedi seemed close to tears, and was escorted by a very worried looking Panaka.
"Your Majesty, I have taken the liberty of contacting the Jedi Council over this," Obi-Wan explained softly. "They will be arriving in two days' time. If it is possible ... " he paused. "They would like to be present at the funeral. Is there any way to - preserve the body?"
Taken in by his open grief, the queen walked forward to embrace him carefully. "Dear friend, never worry about doing anything wrong, here in this palace. Whatever aid we can lend you will receive. We will help you arrange the funeral, of course. Master Qui-Gon will be honored as what he was: a hero." She stepped back again, her expression grave.
"Thank you," Obi-Wan replied with a small bow. "I appreciate your concern. I will leave, if I am permitted. There is a lot to prepare. And Anakin needs someone to look after him."
"Another hero," Captain Panaka announced with a smile that was echoed on Padmé's lips.
"Indeed. Without the three of you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, my people would still be endangered, and the Gungans, our valiant defenders, slain in gruesome battle," she said gently. "We owe you all whatever we can give."
"We are indebted to you," Panaka repeated solemnly. "Please, tell me what you need, and I will supply it," he promised, then carefully put a hand on the Jedi 's shoulder.
"Let's go, yes," Obi-Wan replied with a nod. The two men left together, leaving Padmé very thoughtful.
Beside her, Sabé stirred. "Your Highness," her bodyguard said, "we must consider the consequences of this battle. We were forced to reveal our deception concerning the queen's identity."
"Obi-Wan Kenobi certainly will not betray us," Padmé cut in coldly. "What are you thinking?"
"Forgive me, Your Majesty, I am simply doing my work," Sabé retorted somewhat indignantly. "We should be changing the pattern, modify it, at least."
Padmé sighed. "We will do that, if you insist. But first I must prepare my people's homecoming. And speak to Senator Palpatine," she added, hope flaring in her heart. He had been running in the elections of becoming Chancellor Valorum's successor, and the election outcome had to be publicised any day now. Imagine, if he were to win! Together, they would be able to begin a true reform of the Republic, so badly needed, as had become evident in the discussion surrounding her world's plight. Never again, she vowed, was this to happen to her people again.
"Your Majesty?"
Looking up in bewilderment, but hiding it behind a cool mask she always wore when not alone with her handmaidens or friends, the queen gazed at the woman standing in the doorway , failing to recognise her at first. She was dressed in ragged grey robes, and a baby was propped on her hips, making her look much like a farmer's wife. Yet her stance, defiant and proud, made that impossible.
"Almanda Dar," Padmé said at last, a smile appearing on her face as she strode toward the older woman. "Your are alive! And your daughter!" She tickled the baby girl's chin, unable to resist the child's charm. "You were on the first transport?" she inquired further, still smiling. Nodding, Almanda shifted her grip on the girl, then cast a hopeful glance at the comm installed in the desk in front of the queen's throne. Catching her eye, Padmé smiled more deeply. "I am certain that Senator Palpatine will be overjoyed at the news."
"Possibly," Almanda replied with a mirthless smile and cold eyes. "He never seemed to care so far, though."
Ignoring her bitter comment, Padmé gestured for Sabé to join them. "You will be staying in the palace," she announced graciously. "I insist. Sabé," the queen continued, directly addressing her bodyguard. "Will you see to settling Almanda and her daughter? Thank you." That dismissal left her finally alone, or as alone as she ever could be. But instead of gaining some respite, she was surprised to find another visitor crossing the threshold of her office shortly after Almanda and Sabé had left. Anakin. "I thought you were with Obi-Wan?" she mused aloud, smiling.
The boy approached her tentatively, silent terror in his eyes. "I wanted to be with you," he explained.
To her own mild horror, Padmé realised that he was seeing her as something of a replacement for his mother, as long as Shmi could not be with him. Perhaps, with Qui-Gon dead, he truly did feel lost. Padmé never had had the feeling that Obi-Wan entirely approved of little Anakin. "Come here," she offered, and sat down on her throne." He shuffled closer, until she could reach out and tousle his hair. "Are you all right, Annie? You were so very brave, flying out there all by yourself. So very brave. A hero," she added, amused at his suddenly beaming face. But then his expression turned grave again.
"Qui-Gon is dead," he whispered softly. "He's gone."
"Oh, Annie," she sighed, then wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I know. I am so sorry. He was your friend, wasn't he?"
"Yes," Anakin sniffled amidst hot tears of grief.
"But Obi-Wan will take good care of you, I know," she assured him. "Ah, Sabé," she said, as she became aware of her bodyguard's return. "Any news?"
Sabé was smiling broadly. "Indeed. The election results are up, and we were informed instantly. Cos Palpatine is new Supreme Chancellor."
Padmé wanted to scream with joy, but she only permitted herself an indulgent smile. "very good news indeed. "He will be coming here?"
"With the Jedi Council," Sabé confirmed.
"Excellent." Rising from her seat, Padmé was already thinking about what she needed to discuss with the new Supreme Chancellor. First to punish the Trade Federation, of course. Then to modify the law that had sparked all this trouble. She was confident that in the light of what had passed on Naboo the Senate would be open to reconsidering the taxation of trade routes. So much to prepare! Lost in thought, she never saw the expression on the face of the little boy she had left standing alone beside her empty throne.
Finding the right set of rooms had been easier than anticipated. He simply had had to follow his quarry through the bright, beautiful hallways of the palace of Theed, keeping close to the shadows, very conscious of the mind that walked beside the woman he sought. A bodyguard, a warrior. But the guard retreated once she had shown the woman and her baby to the rooms prepared for them, leaving him free reign to do what he had come for. With a very cold smile, Alamys Jorka slipped across the corridor and into the quarters given to Almanda Dar, before the door could fully close. He stood in the outer hallway for a few moments to orientate himself. Two rooms, a bed-room and a sitting-room. A fresher and a walk-in closet. Almanda Dar had vanished into the bedroom, then returned, without the baby. He saw her hesitate in front of the entrance to the fresher, then watched her walk into the sitting-room instead. Alamys followed her silently, a predator stalking his prey.
She never noticed him. Opening the double doors to the balcony wide she breathed in deeply, and a sigh wrought itself from her lips. Alamys, standing right behind her, was still smiling. He knew he would not be visible from either above, nor below or the sides and it would be so easy to make this look like an accident. Not his preference, but in this case he was given little choice. At last Almanda became aware of his presence and whirled around, her face pale, her eyes filled with fear. Alamys did not know what it was she was seeing then, but her mouth opened to scream, forcing him to act at once.
"Safe journey," he hissed, before his arm caught her full across the chest, flinging her light body against the balcony's heavy railing, her momentum dragging her over the stone ornaments easily. She vanished out of sight with a scream, and Alamys quickly turned back into the sitting-room to finish his task. Almanda was not so very important, her death simply a necessity. It was the child that Sidious would hurt to lose. His legacy. The baby-girl, a cute blond child of perhaps nine months of age, turned huge blue eyes on the stranger who entered the bedroom shortly after she had heard her mother scream. Shying back from Alamys she began to cry instantly. A cute child, truly. A pity Palpatine had never seen her. Would it lessen his grief? Possibly. Reaching out for the baby, Alamys Jorka was annoyed to realise that his plan for revenge might not be as effective as it had seemed when fist conceived. Would the death of his former lover and his child truly serve to wound the Sith Master in the degree Alamys wished to hurt him?
Disgusted with himself, the former Jedi Master stepped back from the bed the baby was perched on, and shook his head. Sidious probably would not even care! Very well. He turned away, leaving the wailing baby, and strode toward the door. The woman's fall might not even spark much comment. And Sidious would not suspect what had almost happened. A pity, truly. But there had to be another way to cripple the Sith Lord and to defeat him at last.
But there was!
He almost laughed out loud. His own son, of course! Shaking his head in grim amusement, he walked out of the quarters and was just in time to evade the security forces who must have noted the lady Almanda's fall and were now hurrying to investigate.
Time to leave.
Be your own master, his mentor had once told him, and only now, that the fruits of yearlong labors were beginning to ripen, did he fully understand, what Roj Kell had meant by that. Only by relying on his own skills, by controlling his environment and his own emotions, could he succeed in his scheme. And now the first step to a grander destiny had been taken, leaving him even more room to operate. As Supreme Chancellor of the Republic he had more possibilities, others than he had previously had, but just as valuable, if not even more precious.
While the loss of Lord Maul was somewhat inconvenient, despite his apprentice's many failings in the past, the Sith Lord had nevertheless managed to dispose of Qui-Gon Jinn. And that was indeed very important regarding a very special boy. According to Sidious' information, Qui-Gon Jinn had been the only one who knew of Anakin Skywalker's parentage, apart from the Sith Master himself now. And Jinn was dead, which meant that Sidious was now the only one privy to that secret. Alamys Jorka's son, with an immense Force potential, undoubtedly a gift by his father. His old nemesis had given up the Force, he had been right in that regard, but Alamys had been even more desperate than that. To cast his hopes into a child, so vulnerable to temptation, so innocent - ah, a risk that was too great to take, for anyone.
While Sidious himself had had a similar idea to ensure his legacy, he had never relied on only that one possibility. His daughter, as it had turned out, had not inherited her father's strength in the Force. He might have use of her yet, but for now she was an annoyance, no more. His secretary, Shya Kee, would be taking care of the child until she was old enough to be moved to Coruscant for further education and training. For now, though, Sidious had quite a different instrument at his disposal: the all too clever and all too trusting queen of Naboo. Padmé Amidala had contacted him herself to tell him of Almanda's regrettable death. In fact, Sidious had briefly mused about the implications of his lover's fall. Had her bitterness over her lost chance in the elections for the post as queen been rekindled by her moving into the palace at Amidala's orders? Unlikely. Almanda may have been competitive and ambitious, but a fighter too. She would not have taken the coward's way out. And what if it had not been suicide, but an accident? Or even murder?
"Your Excellency," his new aide told him softly, "we are arrived."
Looking up, the Supreme Chancellor smiled. "Ah. At last," he offered, and rose from his seat aboard the Republic shuttle which had taken them down here to the planet's surface. He nodded toward the distinguished beings - fools all of them - who already stood in the front, and were now waiting for him to join them at the landing ramp. A reception committee was awaiting them, the queen herself, garbed in an expensive looking robe, Obi-Wan Kenobi, the late Master Jinn's Padawan - and the boy. There were more people assemble din the square in front of the Theed palace's grand staircase, but these three were those that mattered.
"Congratulations on your victory, Supreme Chancellor," the queen greeted him amiably as he walked down to join her and her retinue.
Feeling generous, he waved her praise aside, then said, "Ah, but your battle was far the grander, Your Majesty. Such cunning! Truly astounding." He took her hands in his briefly, and smiled at her beaming face. "Together, my dear, we shall bring peace and prosperity back to the Republic."
"It will be so," she whispered, with determination.
Nodding at her resolve, he released her again and turned toward the young Jedi by her side. "Obi-Wan Kenobi. We are indebted to you and your sadly deceased master, the revered Qui-Gon Jinn."
"Thank you, Chancellor. It was my duty," the Jedi replied with a bow.
"And you, Anakin Skywalker," Darth Sidious said, his mind filled with dark satisfaction, as he ran his hand through the boy's blond hair. "We will be watching your career with particular interest."
A few days later the people of Naboo had assembled to celebrate their new-found freedom together, and to honour the warriors who had fought for their cause, who had died and triumphed in the battle that had won back their home. It was a grand parade, with music and laughter to accompany the procession, and never before had the joy been so infectious. Standing on the top of the white marble staircase leading up to the royal palace of Theed, Queen Amidala of the Naboo was resplendent and beautiful in her white ceremonial dress, a symbol of peace, as she was heralded throughout the Republic. By her side the Gungan leader, Boss Nass, wore a very satisfied grin on his features, and, looking a little lost, a small boy in a Jedi Padawan's garb was watching the proceedings in awe-struck silence.
Standing in the crowd, Alamys Jorka never turned his eyes from the small figure on the dais, torn between wanting to wrap the boy in his arms and remaining where he was.
In all of this illustre and graceful company this boy shone like a beacon, a bright light just beginning to glow, that would once burn across the entire Republic, and free it of a tyrant's yoke. Sidious may have become Supreme Chancellor, but he was not safe yet. The Jedi Order was still growing strong, and now it would be joined by this boy, his son, who would bring the light back if ever it was lost to darkness. Pride filled Alamys' heart to bursting, and it was with little regret that he thought of what he had once promised to himself. That his son would not be trained by the Jedi and corrupted by their foolish views. Perhaps they needed one such as his son was. A gentle soul, a caring heart.
Wistfully, the former Jedi Master watched as a young Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi, put his hand on the boy's shoulder, a possessive gesture that roused Alamys' anger instantly. But even though he would have loved nothing more than to stalk over and slap Kenobi's hand away, he did not dare do so. No one must know who the boy was, whose legacy he carried. If Sidious found out ... But no. For as long as Alamys was alive, he would protect the boy, and continue to unravel the Sith Master's foul scheme. His battle was not done yet, and with his aid, his son would once carry the burden further, and unmask the Supreme Chancellor as what he truly was.
The future was safe, he knew.
And so, with a small sigh and a resigned smile on his face, Alamys Jorka turned around and started walking, slowly making his way through the crowd pressing in from all sides.
He never looked back.
TBC