Gather closely around, my friends. I shall weave you a tale of war, of magic, of betrayal, and of redemption. A tale that spans the world, and even beyond its edge. One with great heroes, and great villains. It is a tale that began a long time ago, and its legacy still lives on to this day. So gather closely, and listen well, for I shall tell the Saga of the Skywalkers.
I shall begin by setting the stage. The world is in turmoil. In the Senate of the Grand Republic, the world's ruling body, disputes over taxation of trade routes near the World's Outer Rim have caused great rifts. Many in the Senate view these new taxes as unfairly targeted towards companies who do business in the Outer Rim regions.
As part of this dispute, the Trade Federation, the foremost trading company operating in the Outer Rim, has established a mighty blockade of some of their most powerful escort ships around the coast of Naboo. They had hoped that by choking trade to this land that they could force negotiations with the Republic.
While the Senate endlessly debates this disturbing chain of events, the Supreme Chancellor has secretly dispatched two Jedi Knights, members of an ancient order of warrior monks dedicated to the ways of peace, to try to resolve this dispute.
Across the great World Sea, a single crimson-sailed tall ship made its way towards the peaceful nation of Naboo. The ship, as evidenced by its red coloration, was a diplomatic vessel belonging to the Grand Republic. The mood aboard was serious. Jedi were skilled negotiators, but all present knew how truly delicate the situation was. Should negotiations fail, war could break out and place more strain on an already divided Senate.
As the Republic ship drew close to Naboo and the blockade, the senior of the two Jedi looked across the water and heaved a sigh. "Captain?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Inform them we wish to board at once."
The captain nodded and waved a hand to the communications officer.
The officer passed her hand over an alabaster font of a silver liquid. Within seconds, the surface of the liquid rose up into the form of a robed being with froglike features and an elaborate headdress. "With all due respect, the representatives for the Supreme Chancellor wish to board at once."
The shimmering figure bowed his head. "Yes, of course," he said in a distinctly lilting Nemoidian accent. "As you know, this blockade is perfectly legal and we'd be happy to receive the ambassadors."
The communications officer once more waved her hand over the font and the form of the Viceroy melted back into the shimmering pool.
The red ship sailed onwards, making for the blockade's flagship, a behemoth of ornately carved ash-hued wood. Carefully, the helmsman pulled alongside the flagship and the anchor was dropped. The robed and hooded Jedi stood on the deck, watching as the crew readied a gangplank.
The two envoys boarded the flagship through a grand set of sliding double doors set into the ship's side. The inside of the flagship was made from the same ash-colored wood as the outside, but it was inlaid with geometric shapes of ivory and ebony. The floor had similar inlays, but was polished to a mirror shine. Wall sconces glowing with an arcane blue light adorned the walls at regular intervals, providing illumination.
They were greeted by a silver humanoid automaton, one of the variety made for diplomatic duties.
"Greetings. I am Teesee, and I am at your service. This way, please," it spoke, in a soothing but mechanical feminine voice.
The Jedi followed Teesee quietly, the only sound coming from them being the clicking of their boot nails against the polished floor.
After a brief walk through several corridors Teesee stopped in front of a set of doors decorated with elaborate scrollwork.
"We are greatly honored by your visit, ambassadors," Teesee said, opening the doors and escorting them inside.
The room was decorated in the same way as the rest of the ship they had so far seen, save for the long table flanked by high-back chairs at the room's center and the wide window at the far end, which looked out over the blockade and part of the Naboo coastline.
"Please, make yourself comfortable. My master will be with you shortly," Teesee said gesturing to the table.
The elder Jedi nodded once and Teesee left the room, the doors closing behind them with a soft click. The Jedi pulled back their hoods, revealing themselves. One of them was an older man with long brown hair cascading over his shoulders and a neatly-kept beard. His eyes were gentle and wise. This was Qui-Gon Jinn, a Jedi master and zealous adherent to the Way of the Force.
The other man was his Padawan student Obi-Wan Kenobi, a young man with brown hair tied back into a short ponytail with a single braid hanging in front of his right ear. His eyes betrayed his youth and curiosity, but also showed a wisdom beyond his years.
"I have a bad feeling about this, Master," he said.
Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows. "I don't sense anything.
"It's not about the mission, it's something... Elsewhere. Elusive."
Qui-Gon chuckled. "Don't center on your anxieties, Obi-Wan. Keep your concentration here and now, where it's needed."
"But... Master Yoda said I should be mindful of the future."
"Ah, true. But not at the expense of the present. Be always mindful of the Living Force, young Padawan. It shall not lead you astray."
"Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon took a seat near the end of the table, while Obi-Wan walked over to gaze out the window.
After a few seconds, Obi-Wan turned his head to address his master. "How do you think the Viceroy will take the Chancellor's demands?"
"These Federation types are cowardly. Negotiations will be short."
Meanwhile in the Viceroy's chambers, Teesee had returned to their master to inform him of the ambassadors' arrival. The Viceroy himself was seated as his opulent desk with the expanse of the World Sea framed by the window behind him. His face had turned a pale shade of green, as had his knuckles as he gripped his chair's armrests.
"Are you sure the ambassadors are Jedi?" There was a nervous tremble in his voice.
"I believe so," Teesee replied.
"I knew it," the Viceroy's advisor said defeatedly. "They're here to force a settlement."
The Viceroy sighed and rapped his fingers on his armrest. He looked up at his advisor. "Distract them. I need to contact Lord Sidious."
"S-sir?! Have you lost your mind? I'm not going in there with one Jedi, let alone two!" His red frog eyes darted to Teesee. "Send an automaton instead!"
Teesee looked at the advisor, metal face unmoving but still managing to convey confusion.
Teesee returned to the conference room they had left the Jedi in, one hand holding a tray with two obsidian chalices and an obsidian pitcher of Nemoidian wine. As they opened the door with their free hand, they caught the Jedi mid-conversation. Both of them were now seated at the table, the younger with one leg crossed over the other.
"Is it in their nature to keep us waiting this long?" Impatience was evident in Obi-Wan's voice, despite his learning.
"No," Qui-Gon said, stroking his beard. "And I sense an inordinate amount of fear for something so trivial as a trade dispute."
Teesee walked to Obi-Wan and offered him one of the chalices. He took it and sipped the pale yellow wine it held. Qui-Gon took the other chalice when offered, but placed it on the table in front of him.
Back in his chambers, the Viceroy stood in front of his communication font and watched as the silvery form of a robed figure emerged from the liquid's surface. A hood obscured most of the figure's face, leaving only his mouth and dimpled chin visible.
The figure spoke in a raspy voice. "What is it?"
The Viceroy steeled himself. "This scheme of yours has failed, Lord Sidious-"
The Viceroy's advisor interrupted. "Our blockade is finished! We dare not go up against these Jedi!"
Lord Sidious' lips curled into a snarl. "Viceroy, I want this pathetic slime removed from my sight."
The advisor recoiled, realizing the gravity of the position he had put himself into. He slunk away pitifully, trying to appear as small as possible.
Once the advisor was gone Lord Sidious spoke again. "This turn of events is regrettable. We must accelerate our plans. Begin landing your troops."
"M- my Lord, is that legal?"
Sidious snarled again. "I will make it legal."
"And... The Jedi?"
"The Chancellor should never have involved them in this. Kill them immediately."
"Ah, y- yes my Lord. As you wish."
On the Republic ship, the bosun saw the flagship's gun ports open.
"Captain!" This was all he could say before the cannons opened fire. Hot iron balls ripped through the ship's thin wooden sides, destroying everything in their path. Water rushed into the hull through the massive holes and cracks left in their wake. Soon, all that remained was cloud of dissipating black and grey smoke and splintered red boards floating on the choppy surface.
In the conference room, both Jedi felt the ship shudder from the broadside cannons firing. They lept from their chairs, drawing their Lightblades and igniting them. Teesee was jarred by Qui-Gon as he rose and was knocked off-balance. The obsidian pitcher and the tray it sat on tumbled out of their hand and onto the floor. Shards of black glass and wine scattered across the floor.
"Oh, excuse me," Teesee said apologetically.
Qui-Gon paid them no mind as he noticed a sickly yellow-green gas was beginning to pour in from one of the ventilation grates.
"Gas," he said calmly. He thumbed the activation rune on his sword's hilt and the green blade withdrew.
Obi-Wan followed suit and the two of them pulled enchanted fish jaws from their tool pouches and held them between their teeth.
Now this may seem strange to you who aren't familiar with these fish jaws. The fish in question come from the undersea kingdom of Mon Cala. The jaws of these fish possess a peculiar trait that allows them, once exposed to certain magics, to give whoever places them in their mouth to breathe no matter what conditions surround them.
Outside the conference room, two squads of war automata assembled. These creations were skeletal, with elongated heads like those of running dogs. Each of them was painted bone white, save for their shoulders which were painted to denote their rank. These were the standing army of the Trade Federation, warriors who never grew tired or hungry and who unquestioningly followed every order. Every vessel in the Federation was crewed by these mechanical drones, performing any task from menial labor to enforcing their masters' sovereignty.
Each of the two squads stood to either side of the double doors, lined up in perfect rank and file, waiting for orders. Simultaneously, the sergeants held up handheld small black metal objects resembling pocket watches or compasses. The discs opened and the silvery liquid inside coalesced into the Viceroy's head.
"They must be dead by now. Destroy what's left of them," the Viceroy said.
"Yes, sir," came the tinny monotone voices of the sergeants.
Suddenly, the doors opened and a cloud of toxic gas spilled into the corridor. Through the cloud, a humanoid came walking out.
"Oh," exclaimed Teesee upon seeing the assembled war automata. "Pardon me."
One of the sergeants regarded the automaton to its right. "Check it out, corporal. We will cover you."
"Yes, sir," came the monotone response.
The corporal took two steps towards the room before the glow of the green and blue blades of the Jedi's Lightblades cut through the greenish mist.
Upon seeing this, the sergeants ordered their troops to advance and attack. The automata had not even begun to move before the Jedi were effortlessly cleaving their way through them, swords and shields offering no defense against the magic blades. Ruined pieces of bone white metal clattered to the floor, still glowing red where they had been cut.
From the Viceroy's chambers, the echoing of the melee could be heard.
"What is going on down there?"
His advisor stood at the communication font. "I can't get through to the sergeants."
A loud clang came from beneath them as the Jedi used their magics to crush several automata against a wall.
The advisor turned away from the font and towards the Viceroy. "Have you ever encountered a Jedi before, sir?"
"Well, no... But I don't..." He looked his advisor dead in his red eyes. "Lock the doors."
"I fear it won't be enough," he moaned as he followed his order.
The Viceroy rushed to his font and called the ship's captain. "I want automekas to my chambers at once!"
"Yes, sir."
The Viceroy spun around to regard his advisor.
The advisor's expression was grim. "We will not survive this..."
The Jedi, meanwhile, had continued cutting their way through the automaton reinforcements towards the Viceroy's chambers. The door guards provided no challenge to the seasoned warriors.
Upon finding the door locked, Qui-Gon plunged his Lightblade through the door to begin cutting a way in while Obi-Wan finished off the last few remaining automata in the corridor.
When the Viceroy saw the green blade easily come through the door, charring the ashen wood in the process, both he and his advisor yelped. As the advisor began sobbing, the Viceroy hurriedly pulled a lever behind his desk, which closed two heavy metal sliding doors just behind the wooden ones.
Qui-Gon pulled his Lightblade from the blackened crescent he had so far carved in the door.
The Viceroy pointed at the thick metal doors in triumph. "Hah! That will hold them!"
Qui-Gon focused himself before once more plunging the blade into the door, but this time holding it in place. Within seconds, the grey wood was turning black with char and white smoke poured from the hole like a wellspring. Small tongues of flame lapped at the edge of the hole. Inside the chambers, the metal began glowing red hot.
"Sir! They are still coming through!" The advisor was pointing and shrieking.
The Viceroy's mouth hung open in astonishment. "This is impossible!"
A chunk of molten metal fell away from the door and exposed the green blade behind.
The Viceroy ran over to the font and called the captain again. "Where are those automekas?!"
From down the corridor came a rumbling sound, as though iron wheels were rolling towards the Jedi. Obi-Wan's eyes went wide as from around the corner came two rolling automata.
"Master!"
Qui-Gon pulled his blade free and held it in front of himself. Obi-Wan did likewise, unsure of what to expect from these new enemies.
The strange machines halted and uncoiled themselves before erecting a shield ward around themselves. The two Jedi stepped back, caught off guard by this. The automekas then started rapidly firing crossbow bolts at them. Those the Jedi failed to block or dodge imbedded themselves deeply in the walls and doors behind them. The bolts came at such a rate, the Jedi knew they were outmatched.
"They're warded! It's a standoff, let's go," Qui-Gon said before the two of them, aided by their powers, rushed down the corridor and away from the automekas.
From the commotion outside, the advisor arrogantly declared "they're no match for automekas!"
The automekas gave slow pursuit, firing down the corridor after the Jedi, but no shot landed. At a junction, Qui-Gon looked up and saw a metal grating large enough for a man to crawl through. He cut it open and both the master and the student crawled in, leading them out of harm's way.
Through the ventilation ducts, the Jedi made their way to the flagship's cavernous main hold. Dozens of smaller, rowing propelled landing vessels sat in a tightly-packed internal drydock with more above them, held aloft by massive winch systems. Thousands of war automata neatly marched aboard the crafts and took their positions.
Obi-Wan's blood ran cold at the sight. "So many automata... It's an invasion army."
Qui-Gon's brow furrowed. "This... Is an odd play for the Federation. We've got to warn the Naboo and contact Chancellor Valorum." He looked at his pupil. "Let's split up, they'll have more trouble finding us. We'll hide ourselves away on separate craft and meet back on shore."
Obi-Wan nodded, then chuckled. "Well, you were right about one thing, Master. The negotiations were short."
The Viceroy slouched in his chair, fingers drumming furiously on the armrest. His advisor paced back and forth across the room. The holes in the doors crackled as both wood and metal cooled.
The advisor had just turned for another lap when he noticed the font bubbling. "Ah, sir? You're receiving a hail."
The Viceroy rushed to the font, hoping the caller was someone telling him the Jedi had been dealt with. He waved a hand over the surface and was surprised to see a seated girl, no older than fourteen, dressed in the traditional garb and crown of Naboo royalty.
"It's Queen Amidala, herself," the advisor said. "At last we are getting results."
The Viceroy straightened his robes. "Again, you come before us, your Highness."
"You will not be so pleased when you hear what I have to say, Viceroy," the Queen said in the flat tone expected by her office. "Your blockade of our shores has ended."
The Viceroy raised a hairless eyebrow. "I was not aware of such failure."
"I have word the Chancellor's ambassadors are with you now and that you have been commanded to reach a settlement."
"I know nothing of any such ambassadors. You must be mistaken."
"Beware, Viceroy, your Federation has gone too far this time."
The Viceroy feigned insult. "We would never do anything without the approval of the Senate. You assume too much."
The Queen's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "We will see."
The silver form of the Queen melted back into the font. A beat later, the advisor turned to the Viceroy. "She's right. The Senate will never-"
The Viceroy interrupted him. "It's too late now!"
"Do you... Think she suspects an attack?"
"I don't know. But we must move quickly to prevent them from communicating with anyone outside Naboo."