Chapter 4
Nute Gunray stands in silence at the center of the palace throne room in the Naboo capital city of Theed and listens patiently as Governor Sio Bibble protests the Trade Federation's presence. Rune Haako stands at his side. Both wear their Federation robes of office and inscrutable expressions. Two dozen Battle Droids hold the Naboo occupants of the room at gunpoint. The city fell shortly after sunrise. There has been little resistance; the Naboo is a peaceful people. The Trade Federation invasion comes as a surprise, and the droid army is inside the gates of the city before any substantial defense could be mounted. What few weapons have been confiscated and the Naboo were moved to detention camps. Battle Droids are combing the city even now to put an end to any lingering resistance.
Gunray resists a smile. Apparently, the Queen believes right up to the end that negotiations would prevail and the Senate would provide the people of Naboo with protection.
"It is bad enough, Viceroy, that you dare to disrupt transmissions between the Queen and Senator Palpatine while he is attempting to argue our cause before the Republic Senate, bad enough that you pretend that this blockade is a lawful action, but landing an entire army on our planet and occupying our cities is too outrageous for words."
Sio Bibble is a tall, balding man with a sharply pointed beard and an even sharper tongue. He holds the floor just at the moment, but Gunray is getting tired of listening to him. He glances at the other captives. Captain Panaka, the Queen's head of security, and four of the Queen's personal guards stand to one side, stripped of their weapons. Panaka is stone-faced and hard-eyed as he watches the Neimoidians. He is a big, powerfully built man with a dark, smooth face and quick eyes. The Neimoidian did not like the way those eyes are fixed on him.
The Queen sits upon her throne, surrounded by her handmaidens. She is serene and aloof, detached from everything as if what is taking place did not affect her, could not touch her in any way. She wears black, her white-painted face in sharp contrast to the black-feathered headdress that wraps and frames it. A gold chain lays across her regal brow and the red beauty mark split her lower lip.
She is considered beautiful, Gunray has been told, but he has no sense of human beauty and by Neimoidian standards, she is simply colorless and small-featured.
What interests him is her youth. She is barely out of girlhood, certainly not a full-grown woman, and yet the people of Naboo had chosen her as their Queen. This isn't one of those monarchies where blood determined the right of rule and dynasties prevailed. The Naboo chooses the wisest among them as their ruler by popular acclaim, and Queen Amidala governs at the sufferance of her people. Why they will choose someone so young and naive is a mystery to him. From his point of view, it certainly hasn't served them well in this instance.
Governor Sio Bibble's voice echoes through the cavernous chamber, rising to the high, vaulted ceiling, bouncing off the smooth, sunlit walls. Theed is an opulent, prosperous city and the throne room reflects its history of success.
"Viceroy, I ask you point-blank." Sio Bibble is concluding his boring oration. "How do you intend to explain this invasion to the Senate?"
The Neimoidian's flat, reptilian countenance manages a small flicker of humor. "The Naboo and the Trade Federation will forge a treaty that will legitimize our occupation of Theed. I have been assured that such a treaty, once produced, will be quickly ratified by the Senate."
"A treaty?" the governor exclaims in astonishment. "In the face of this completely unlawful action?"
Amidala rises from her throne and steps forward, surrounded by her cloaked and hooded handmaidens. Her eyes are sharp with anger. "I will not cooperate."
Nute Gunray exchanges a glance with Rune Haako. "Now, now, Your Highness," he purrs. "Don't be too hasty with your pronouncements. You are not going to like what we have in store for your people. In time, their suffering will persuade you to see our point of view."
He turns away. "Enough talk." He beckons. "Commander?" Battle droid OOM-9 steps forward, narrow metal snout lowering slightly in response. "Process them," the viceroy orders.
OOM-9 signals for one of his sergeants to take over, metallic voice directing that the prisoners be taken to Camp Four. The battle droids herd the Queen, her handmaidens, Governor Bibble, Captain Panaka, and the Naboo guards from the room.
Nute Gunray's slit reddish-orange eyes follow them out, then shifts back to Haako and the room. He feels a deep sense of satisfaction take hold. Everything is going exactly as it should.
The sergeant and a dozen battle droids move the prisoners along the polish stone halls of the Theed palace and outside to where a series of terraced steps led downward through statuary and buttress work to a broad plaza. The plaza is filled with Federation tanks and battle droids and is empty of Naboo citizens. The tanks are squat, shovel-nosed vehicles with their main cannon mounted on a turret above and behind the cockpit and smaller blasters set low and to either side. They have the look of foraging beetles as they edge about the plaza's perimeter.
Beyond, the buildings of Theed stretch away toward the horizon, a vast sprawl of high stone walls, gilded domes, peak towers, and sculptured archways. Sunlight bathes the gleaning edifices, their architecture in counterpoint to the lush greenness of the planet. The rush of waterfalls and a bubble of fountains form a soft, distant backdrop to the strange silence created by the absence of the populace.
The prisoners are taken across the plaza past the Trade Federation machines of war. No one spoke. Even Governor Bibble has gone silent, his gray-bearded head lower in dark contemplation.
They depart the plaza and turn down a broad avenue that leads to the outskirts of the city and the newly constructed Trade Federation detention camps. STAPs hum overhead, shadows flitting off the walls of the buildings, metal shells gleaming as they dart away.
The Droids just turn their prisoners down a quiet byway when their Sergeant, who is leading the procession, brings them to an abrupt halt.
"I'm afraid the Queen and her entire Entourage is coming with me," a voice speaks thunderously, chills suddenly filling the hanger and causing the organics within the room to shiver almost naturally though there is a slight hiss in his voice.
The handmaidens look. The guards look. The fake and real queen looks. Almost, out of nowhere, a hooded figure emerges, a black hood raised over their head which conceals his appearance, a strange mask covering the lower part of his face. Their armor seems uncomfortable and damaged but it doesn't appear to be holding them back, but it doesn't appear to successfully restrain the person who wears it, cerulean eyes staring intently.
The Droid Sergeant suddenly seems to remember where he was and what he is doing. He gestures to his soldiers. "Clear him away!"
Four of the battle droids move to obey. They just shift their weapons into firing position when the strange Jedi activates their lightsaber; a crimson one, and cut them into pieces in under half a second. As the shattered droids collapse, what they presume as the Jedi move quickly to dispatch the others. Laser bolts are blocked, weapons are knocked aside, and the remaining droids are reduced to scrap metal.
The sergeant turns to flee, but the Jedi outstretches his hand, grasping the droid in mid-air before clenching his fist and the droid crushes up into little pieces.
Swiftly, the Naboo soldiers move to recover the fallen weapons, keeping a cautionary view of the exceptional being. He is intimidating, his physical form larger than all of them, a strange dark glory enough to make one shiver.
The looming tower that is the Jedi approaches, deactivating his lightsaber and clipping it onto his belt.
"It is an honor to meet you, your royal highness," he states in greeting. He always had a close acquaintanceship with the handmaidens and treated most of them like the 501st, most notably this one. He cringes slightly at his voice still sounding like it did on the second Death Star, like a snake hiss wheeze, sounding weaker and making him feel less intimidating than those times.
For under a second, his eyes linger on Padmé in anguish before staring away, reminding himself she is no longer his angel and that he lost her in his pride. He mustn't unintentionally alert them yet that he knows who the real Queen is.
"The honor is all mine..." the fake queen begins.
"Vader. My name is simply Vader." He declares, keeping his senses up so if the Jedi choose to attack him, he would be ready to counter. "For the moment, we should move quickly to a less populated area to speak in privacy, your Highness."
The group moves to the nearby abandoned courtyard, and Vader catches Padmé eyeing him with caution. She likely wishes she can speak up to question him but she knows the risks of blowing her cover so Sabé will have to for her.
"Your skills are quite impressive. Did the Republic send you, Master Jedi? Are you the Jedi Ambassador that came here to negotiate with the Trade Federation?" Captain Panaka inquires, staring him over as if attempting to make his own interpretation of his own but failing much like many others.
"No," Vader replies. "I have no affiliation with the Republic nor the Jedi Order. My reasoning and motives are for my own. But for now, we must relocate you back to your Republic."
"How do we know you are not a threat?" Panaka inquires, eyes lingering on him suspiciously.
"You don't," Vader admits not unkindly. "Or you could just remain behind here and I can escort them to Coruscant." There is an extra weight to his words.
Panaka offers no response so Vader takes the initiative.
"Captain, keep the Queen safe and wait until I return. Something must be done." Vader commands.
And with that, Vader is off. The entourage waits patiently for what felt like hours as a worried feeling fills their guts. Despite being armed, there are more battle droids in this palace that will be able to overwhelm them in sheer numbers.
Footsteps are suddenly heard, and they all aim their guns in the direction, believing the battle droids have already come to wipe them out. Surprisingly, two men stand directly in their way, both wearing loose robes over belted tunics, the taller with his hair worn long, the shorter with his cut to a thin braided pigtail. Their arms hang loosely at their sides, but they did not have the look of unprepared men.
For a moment, each group stares at the other in silence. Then the narrow face of a Gungan peeks out from behind the two robed figures, eyes wide and frightened.
Qui-Gon Jinn steps forward. "Are you Queen Amidala of the Naboo?" he asks the young woman in the feathered headdress.
The Queen hesitates. "Who are you?"
"Ambassadors from the Supreme Chancellor." The Jedi Master inclines his head slightly. "We seek an audience with you, Your Highness."
"The Queen and her entire entourage are with me," a voice spoke up, surprising all in the scene as one didn't have to be Force Sensitive to notice the tension suddenly forming in the atmosphere as they turn to see their mysterious ally. There is a strange something on his holster now that is clouded by his cloak, something that is unseeable. "Don't stand in my way, Jedi."
"Ambassadors, this is Vader," the fake Queen greets the former Sith Lord, indicating her hand to Vader.
Qui-Gon narrows his eyes at the former Sith while Kenobi fixates him with a glare. Most notably, their hands are edging down towards their lightsabers, preparing to defend themselves.
"Why should we entrust you with the Queen and her entourage... my Lord?" Obi-Wan inquires, wanting to see if he can spite who they believe is a Sith.
"Spare me the titles," he responds, "to you, I am obviously Sith, but if I so wish, your lives would be claimed and the Queen would have signed the treaty or been dead. I maintain no aggression to the Jedi as long as you linger out of my way," Vader announces, walking carelessly and rudely past the Jedi Master and Padawan, showing both Force Users that their presence did not concern him. "Now, are you going to attack me, Jedi, or shall we evacuate before more battle droids arrive? Manifestly, I am not an ally to the Trade Federation. You are supposed to be peacekeepers. Assuredly, you wouldn't attack one for sharing different beliefs."
"Your kind have been killing the Jedi for thousands of years before they were purged!" Obi-Wan shouts angrily.
"My kind, Jedi, but am I to blame for things my so-called ancestors do. I am not a Sith, but must a child be blamed for the crimes of a parent?" Vader counters.
They offer no response to that, for as much as they distaste it, they know he is correct. Still, unquestionably, this Sith - they still foolishly believe he is - would be the one behind this. He may act as a rescuer to the Queen to receive the position of power, but there is no proof of that. If the Jedi does indeed pull an arrest, the Senate will dismiss the case since the lack of evidence and the Naboo will not be exactly pleased with someone being falsely accused. Additionally, his aura is beyond powerful so they may not only lose but their lives would be claimed.
"Sith commit crimes. Like murder, or manufacturing fraudulent wars to consolidate power. Committing crimes and conquering people is part of your charter as an organization, and the Dark Side is defined as using the Force to perform acts of unnecessary cruelty for personal gain or spite." Qui-Gon counters, scowling at his back. "Such an organization will not change over thousands of years."
"Do not assume you know everything, Jedi," Vader responds brusquely, the Force itself adding extra magnetism to his words. "While the Sith maintain their own aspirations, I for one possess intentions to save this broken galaxy. Now unless you intend to continue soaking in my presence, we should depart."
Surprise comes across Qui-Gon's face as he can sense the truth in his words. While light side Sith occurred in ancient times, they apparently disappeared during the Cold Wars, all of them being purged. Is it possible for a few to manage to escape and continue their legacy?
It is simply impossible for the Jedi and Sith to coexist, if the Jedi allow the Sith to still be evil, they are being evil by allowing evil to survive. The Sith will just attempt to destroy the Jedi in the end. The Republic can maintain its security from the Sith with its own military to ensure they don't betray them in the process.
"We should work this out later," Qui-Gon finally yields, furrowing his brows as he stares at Vader and then Obi-Wan, planting his hand on the Jedi Padawan's shoulder to prevent conflict and provoking further argument.
"Your negotiations seem to have failed, Ambassador," Sio Bibble observes with a snort, obviously oblivious to the tension in the air but wishing to break it.
"The negotiations never took place." Qui-Gon keeps his eyes directed toward the Queen. Her painted face shows nothing. "Your Highness," he continues, "we must make contact with the Republic."
"We can't," Panaka volunteers, stepping forward. "They've knocked out all our communications."
An alarm is being given from somewhere close, and there is the sound of running. Qui-Gon glances toward the street where the battle droids lay.
"Do you possess indispensable transports, Captain?" Vader questions.
The Naboo captain nods, quick to see what the former Sith intends to do. "In the main hangar. This way."
He leads the little group to the end of the alleyway, where they cross to other passageways and backstreets, encountering no one. They move quickly and silently through the growing sound of alarms and the wicked buzz of STAPs. To their credit, the Naboo did not resist Vader's leadership nor dare to question his appearance. With Panaka and his men newly armed, the Naboo Queen and her companions had a sense of being in control of their own destiny once more and seemed more than ready to take a chance on their rescuers. For some reason, a substantial being such as Darth Vader leading them is more of a comforting thought since none would rather have him opposing them given that coldness that surrounds him. The Battle Droids possess fewer odds than they did mere hours ago.
It did not take them long to reach their destination. A series of connected buildings dominate one end of a broad causeway, each one dome and cavernous, the central structures ward by arch entrances and low, flat-walled outbuildings. Battle Droids are stationed everywhere, weapons hold at the ready, but Captain Panaka is able to find an unguarded approach down a narrow corridor between adjoining buildings.
At a side door to the main hangar, Panaka brings the group to a halt. After a quick glance over his shoulder for droids, he unlocks and nudges open the hangar door. With Qui-Gon Jinn press close, he peeks inside. A handful of Naboo ships are grouped at the center of the hangar, sleek gleaming transports, their noses pointing toward a wide opening in the far wall. Battle droids guard each position themselves across the entire floor of the hangar to cut off any unseen approach.
Panaka points to a long, low ship on the far side of the hangar with swept-back wings and powerful Headon-5 engines. "The Queen's personal transport," he whispers to the Jedi Master.
Qui-Gon nods. A J-type 327 Nubian. In the distance, the alarms continue to sound their steady wail.
"That one will do," he says.
Panaka scans the hangar interior. "The battle droids. There are too many of them."
The Jedi eases back from the door. "That won't be a problem." He faces the Queen. "Your Highness. Under the circumstances, I suggest you come to Coruscant with us."
Vader prompts to remain silent and instead stands beside the fake Queen and her handmaidens. They were willing to protect him when he was younger and he is now willing to should they be spotted and a stray bullet comes for them. The handmaidens' lives are more important to him than the guards, and the Jedi can defend themselves. Only Padmé would be the one who he would view as more important than the handmaidens.
The young woman shakes her head, the feathers on her headdress rustling softly. Her white-painted face is calm and her gaze steady. "Thank you, Ambassador, but my place is here with my people."
"I don't think so," Qui-Gon responds, locking eyes. "The Trade Federation has other plans. They will kill you if you stay."
Sio Bibble pushes to the Queen's side. "They wouldn't dare!"
"They need her to sign a treaty to make this invasion of theirs legal!" Captain Panaka points out. "They can't afford to kill her!"
"Just like they could not afford to imprison or kill millions of innocent natives on this planet," Vader speaks up at last. "Don't underestimate the Trade Federation. This is an assassination."
The Queen looks from face to face, the barest flicker of uncertainty showing in her eyes.
"The situation here is not what it seems," Qui-Gon presses. "There is something else going on, Your Highness. There is no logic to the Federation's actions. My instincts tell me they will destroy you."
A shadow of real alarm crosses Sio Bibble's face as the Jedi Master finishes. His strong features melt slightly. "Your Highness," he says slowly. "Perhaps you should reconsider. Our only hope is for the Senate to take our side in this matter. Senator Palpatine will need your help."
No one sees Vader clenching his hands up into fists at the last part.
Captain Panaka is having none of it. "Getting past their blockade is impossible, Your Highness-even if we were to get off the planet! An escape attempt is too dangerous-"
Vader corrects, "Nothing is impossible with the Force."
"Your Highness, I will stay here and do what I can," Sio Bibble declares, shaking his head at Panaka. "They will have to retain the Council of Governors in order to maintain some semblance of order. But you must leave-"
Queen Amidala brings up her hand sharply to silence the debate. Turning from her governor and head of security and the Jedi as well, she looks suddenly to her handmaidens, who are pressed close to her. "Either choice presents great risk to all of us..." she says softly, looking from face to face.
Perplexed, Qui-Gon watches the exchange. What is the Queen seeking?
The handmaidens glance at one another, faces barely visible within the confines of red and gold hooded robes. All are silent.
Finally, one speaks.
"We are brave, Your Highness," Padmé says firmly.
Through the Force, Vader can sense Sabé's satisfaction at being able to be in charge of Padmé. The handmaidens always quipped with one another. Worse is that they always bantered and pranked Skywalker. Combined, they are worse, Padmé and Sabé, especially.
Alarms continue to sound. "If you are to leave, Your Highness, it must be now," Qui-Gon urges.
Fake Queen Amidala straightens and nods. "So be it. I will plead our case before the Senate." She glances at Sio Bibble. "Be careful, Governor."
She takes the governor's hand briefly, then beckons to three of her handmaidens. Those not chosen begin to cry softly. Fake Amidala embraces them and whispers words of encouragement. Captain Panaka selects two of the four guards to stay behind with Sio Bibble.
Vader didn't have the heart to destroy that relationship. If they do not remain behind on Naboo, their feelings shall not swell. In reality, most of the people in this room deserve happier endings... all except him of course as he had destroyed that honor of having a good life. Child murderer. Butcher of the galaxy. All the titles everyone described him in his time as Dark Lord.
Vader tears out a datapad and hands it over to Sabé. "I had managed to hacked into their key points, their locations, and their plots with Naboo's database."
"How did you do that?" A handmaiden asks, eyes raise in curiosity. Vader recognizes her quickly as Rabé.
"Their intelligence is overly flawed at best. For example, B1 Battle Droids are less intelligent because they don't need to be smart, nor were they designed to be. As a matter of fact, they are originally designed to be coordinated by a Droid Control Ship which would coordinate and direct their strategy, fire patterns, and overall tactical movement." He replies, tipping his head at Qui-Gon Jinn.
The Jedi Master nods, almost as if they are communicating without any means of talking.
The Jedi and the former Sith moves through the side door and into the hangar, leading the way for Jar Jar and the Naboo.
"Stay close," Qui-Gon admonishes softly over his shoulder.
Captain Panaka moves next to him, face intense. "We need a pilot for the vessel." He points to where a group of Naboo is being held captive in a corner of the hangar by a squad of battle droids. The insignia on their uniforms indicates a mix of guards, mechanics, and pilots. "There."
"I'll take care of it," Obi-Wan declares, and veers toward the Naboo captives.
'And he said I was reckless! Humph! Where does the idiot believe I get it from?!' Vader couldn't help but rage skittishly in his inner thoughts, remembering all of the times the same man reprimanded him whenever he went headfirst into battle without hesitation.
Without a word, Vader's outward response is a mere tilt of his head, offering no argument with Obi-Wan in perpetuating his plan, though the old man didn't see it. He has an assignment to do and would not quip to his former Master in the other timeline. Besides, he has no plans to form any friendship of any sort with Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon; he would protect them if he must but wish to maintain a distant relationship with them. Their bond must always remain reserved for their protection.
Vader, Qui-Gon, and the rest continue on, striding boldly across the hangar floor, moving directly toward the Queen's vessel, ignoring the battle droids who move to intercept them.
Qui-Gon takes note of the fact that the boarding ramp to the transport is lower. More Battle Droids are closing on them, curious without yet being alarmed. "Don't stop for anything," he warns the Queen, and he reaches beneath his cloak for the lightsaber.
They are barely twenty meters from the Queen's transport when the nearest of the Battle Droids challenges them, guns drawn but not aimed threateningly.
One B1 Battle Droid Commander approaches the former Sith, a squadron of Droids behind their commander. Vader knows that the droids are meant to be disposable, that they are useless tools just like General Grievous, but still, their outdated designs irritate him. At least General Grievous was a respective warlord before the Jedi was able to analyze him, able to kill mere Masters during the beginning of the war, able to lead battalions of droids. He knows that Dooku and Sidious had to damage Grievous further for the cyborg not to single-handedly end the war in a week.
Otherwise, Ahsoka and many others would have died at the beginning of her involvement with him during the war.
"Where are you going and who authorized you taking these prisoners?" it asks in its blank, metallic voice.
There is no indication that Vader would move.
There is no indication that Vader would proceed on an onslaught.
He didn't stiffen, he didn't give any reaction of any type that conveys wariness that most warriors would before attacking. Even the handmaidens or guards who trained endlessly couldn't see anything; they were trained to see blasters being pulled from miles away but not this. Even the Queen who is experienced enough in spotting with sharp eyes could not see this instantaneous attack. Not even the Jedi Master who stands beside him saw him.
A red plasma sprouts from his hand. They didn't even realize he had his blasted cylinder lightsaber hilt in his gloved hand.
This is a mere waste of time. And due to his time as a veteran, he knows this would only result in combat.
The Droid's head is ejected from its humanoid shoulders in under a second and detaches on the ground. The other droids soon face the wrath of the living brute and are dispatched instantaneously. Vader is far more powerful than these insignificant Battle Droids and the ineptitude of the Trade Federation only adds more to his triumph.
Qui-Gon follows suit, activating his lightsaber as well, and begins dispatching the droids that Vader is utterly disregarding.
More of the Battle Droids rush to stop the former Sith and Jedi, who stood alone against them as their charges boarded the Nubian vessel. Captain Panaka and the Naboo guards form a protective screen for the Queen and her handmaidens as they hurry up the ramp. Jar Jar Binks clambers after, holding on to his head with his long arms. Laser bolts lance through the hangar from all directions, and new alarms blare wildly.
On the far side of the hangar, Obi-Wan Kenobi launches himself at the battle droids holding the Naboo hostage, cutting into them with ferocious determination. Qui-Gon watches his progress, long hair flying out as he withstood yet another rush from the battle droids attempting to reclaim the Queen's transport, blocking their laser bolts as he fought to hold the boarding ramp. Obi-Wan is running toward him now, a handful of the Naboo in tow. Explosions rise all around them, deadly laser fire burning into metal and flesh. Several of the Naboo went down, but the battle droids are unable to slow the Jedi.
Given who they assume as Sith cutting the battle droids in different forms similar to a Jedi or Sith warlord, it is fairly easy for them to keep watch over the Naboo and to deflect the ever few shots that are sent their directions.
Vader outstretches his hand and tightens it up into a fist, bringing a battalion before him and quickly dispatching them in what the bystanders would see as a red beam.
Qui-Gon backs quickly up the loading ramp and into the transport's dimly lit interior.
In a single rhythm of his saber, Vader runs his crimson lightsaber through four Droids before flicking his hand, and crates flew at a platoon, crushing them immediately. He cares little for how much damage is done to the hanger; this is war, and a couple of millions of dollars is insignificant next to how many Nubians' lives have already been claimed.
Kenobi Force Pushes five droids against the wall, them destroying upon impact. Positioning himself into an Ataru form, Obi-Wan lunges towards a batch of the battle droids, hacking away at them endlessly. Admittedly, it is an odd scene for Vader since he is used to his brother utilizing the Soresu form, even after all of these years. Ataru never suits him best. He would have to make a mental note to assure he transit his form at a later date.
Right now, however, Vader is not to concern himself with that. He is a juggernaut, cutting through battalions rapidly, his lightsaber driven by startling calm but barbarian movements. Whereas Anakin Skywalker would have been eager and arrogant and outright cocky, Vader had witnessed underestimating odds beforehand; the Phoenix Cell escaping him and the Devastation of Kashyyyk being evidence of that.
The Headon-5 engines are firing even before the Jedi Master reaches the main cabin and flung himself into a chair. Laser fire hammers at the sides of the sleek craft, but the ship is already beginning to move forward. The pilot sits hunch forward over the controls, his weathered face intense, a sheen of sweat beading his forehead, hands steady on the controls.
"Hold on," he commands.
Reinforcements are storming down to the hangar.
The Jedi Padawan races onboard, seeing their dark ally can handle this, deactivating his lightsaber.
Shortly, two Droids remain, firing at Vader and prompting him to raise his hand, throwing the blaster bolts to the side. A singular flick of his lightsaber disengages the left Droid, and as the last Battle Droid fires, he simply deactivates his lightsaber, plants it on his belt, and outstretch his hand, for the first time testing his abilities as a whole. The Droid begins to explode under his might, and suddenly Vader understands why Sidious loved such abilities.
Through the Force, he can sense shock from the passengers on the Nubian, and admittedly, he too is taken aback. He had known being one with the Force had granted him much power; the power that has been stripped from him when he'd lost to Obi-Wan on Mustafar. As a result of having artificial arms, Vader would never be able to conjure Sith lightning-nor be invulnerable to it and other such abilities. The second school, or focus, the Body, encompasses those abilities that draw from the living Force. They emanate from one own cell and affect the physical structures of others. For this reason, any cyborg limb or enhancement will hinder one ability to conjure the effects of the Body.
Vader was physically incapable of using it due to the lack of organic limbs. Moreover, he had taught such abilities to Galen by Sith Holocrons. Those lessons most likely rub off of him. Theoretically, the Force itself has welcomed its protege the attributes due to being one who truly touched different and unique sides of the Force. Vader isn't conclusive of that sentiment but it is the preeminent theory he could come up with at that moment.
Elegantly fixing his cape which has fallen out of place and over his chest piece, Vader hides his arms inwards and steps on board, the ramp closing behind him, the cloak concealing his hilt. He immediately catches the deadpanned faces of Kenobi and Jinn. He'd forgotten how limited the Jedi trained their students in the way of the Force as they believe going so far as even studying the dark leads down the path of the dark side.
"H-how?"
Vader smirks, wishing he could see his brother's face from the great beyond, but for now, Obi-Wan of this time will suffice. Well, Obi-Wan always said he is exasperating.
If Vader does say so himself, he honestly is.
"I have touched the light side and the dark side, Jedi. Your Council refuses to allow for one to touch the dark side and shuns it, resulting in them failing themselves. The nerve of your Council claiming they know the true meaning of the Force astonishes me." Vader thunders composedly, actually hoping for a meeting with the Jedi Council. Their arrogance holds no bounds. The only one who shall be spared so far of his berating wrath at least at the moment is Qui-Gon Jinn. "Now step aside. We have other resolutions to be trivial with. And when you do contact your Jedi Council, tell them I shall grant an audience on the condition that I am not to be restrained."
"You-" Obi-Wan opens his mouth to argue but stops himself, "is willing to answer questions of the Jedi Council willingly?"
"Correct," Vader responds, grinning at the surprised expression across both Jedi's faces. "It's time for any misunderstandings to be amended. Knowing your Council, they wish to arrest me."
Obi-Wan scowls at his apprentice from another time. "The dark side is a poison. It will corrupt all of its wielders."
"Says you, cryptic Jedi," Vader replies, rolling his eyes.
"I am hardly cryptic," Obi-Wan replies grimly.
Vader hums.
The Nubian shot through the hangar doors, ripping past battle droids and laser fire, lifting away from the city of Theed into the blue, sunlit sky. The planet of Naboo is left behind in seconds, the ship rising into the darkness of space, arcing toward a suddenly visible cluster of Trade Federation battleships blocking its way.
The pilot grunts. "Our communications are jammed."
"We're past the point of talking. Just keep the ship on course." Qui-Gon turns to Obi-Wan. "Make sure everyone is settled safely in place." His eyes move to where Jar Jar Binks is already up and poking about.
The younger Jedi moves quickly to take the Gungan in hand, propelling him forcibly through the main cabin door and into the entryway beyond. Ignoring Jar Jar's protests, he glances about somewhere to stash the bothersome creature. Catching sight of a low, cramping sentry with the words Astromech Droids letters above, he releases the retaining latch and shoves the Gungan inside.
"Stay here," he directs with a meaningful look. "And keep out of trouble."
Jar Jar Binks watches the door close behind him, then glances around. A line of five R2 Astromech Droids stands against one wall, short, dome-topped, all-purpose mechanics painted different colors, their lights off, their engines quiet. Five identical units, each stout body positioned between two sturdy restraint arms, do not indicate being aware of him. The Gungan ambles along in front of them, waiting to be noticed.
'Maybe they weren't activated,' he thinks. 'Maybe they aren't even alive.'
"Heydey ho, yous," he tries, hands gesturing. "Tis a long trip somewheres, hey?"
No response. Jar Jar taps the closest R2 unit, a bright red droid, on the head. The tap makes a hollow sound, and the head pops up a notch from the cylindrical body.
"Whoa!" Jar Jar says, surprised.
He glances around, wondering why the Jedi had put him down here when everyone else is up there.
'Nothing much to do down here,' he thought disconsolately. 'Nothing much happening.'
Curious, he grips the red Droid's head and lifts it gently. "Dis opens?" he whispers. He lifts some more. Something caught. He yanks hard. "Dis... ooops!"
The head lifts right out of its seating. Springs and wires pop out in a tangled mess. Jar Jar quickly jams the red droid's head back into place, easing his three-fingered hands away cautiously.
"Oh, oh, oh," Jar Jar murmurs, glancing about to make sure no one had seen, hugging himself worriedly.
He moves down the line of droids, still looking for something to occupy his time. He didn't want to be in this room, but he doesn't think he should try to leave, either. The younger Jedi, the one who had stuck him in here, didn't like him much as it is. The Jedi would like him a whole lot less if he caught Jar Jar sneaking out of this room.
Explosions sounded close by the transport. Cannon fire. The ship rocks in response to a series of near misses. Jar Jar looks about wildly, suddenly not liking where he was at all. Then the running lights begin to flicker, and the transport shook violently. Jar Jar moans and crouches down in a corner. More explosions sound and the craft is buffeted from side to side.
"We doomed," the frightened Gungan mutters. "Tis bad'. business, dis."
Abruptly the ship begins to spin as if caught in a whirlpool. Jar Jar cries out, fastening his arms about a strut to keep from being thrown against the walls. The lights in the compartment all came on, and the droids are abruptly activated. One by one, they begin to whir and beep. Release from their restraints, they roll out of their racks toward an airlock at one end of the compartment-all but the red R2, who rolls directly into a wall and fell over, more parts tumbling out.
The R2 unit painted blue pauses as it motors by its red counterpart, then charges past Jar Jar, giving out a loud screech that caused the Gungan to jerk away in fright.
One after another, the four R2 units enter the airlock lift and are sucked up toward the top of the ship.
Left behind in the storage compartment with the droid he unwittingly sabotaged, Jar Jar Binks moans in despair.
Vader knows that none of the R2 units would secede past his R2. R2 is very loyal and courageous, and though he is not designed for combat, he is not afraid to fight when the situation demanded it. When forced into combat, R2 held his own by using his wide variety of mechanical features to serve as weapons, such as using oil to blind his opponents or make them slip, shocking them with his shock prod, tying them up in a cable, or simply bashing into them.
Despite being tempted to help the crew, he had known they must crash on Tatooine. His younger self must be trained in the ways of the Jedi, but differently; by Jinn, not Kenobi.
He makes a mental note that he will assist them shortly when he feels there is enough damage to this ship.
Besides, a childish part of Vader wants to see how his younger self talks as he could only remember blabbering away at his angel.
Obi-Wan Kenobi re-enters the transport's cockpit when explosions begin to buffet the ship. He can see a huge Trade Federation battleship looming ahead through the viewport, cannons firing. The Queen's transport is rocked so violently by the blasts that it is thrown from its trajectory. Ric Olie's glove hands are locked onto the steering grips, fighting to bring the slender craft back into line.
Vader approaches the cockpit, his composer in a calm state, almost as calm as the Jedi. Qui-Gon is admittedly surprised at how calm he is, due to the Sith being the ones who usually acted on their arrogance and impatience in recent history.
"We should abort, sir!" the pilot shouts at Vader, who is braced at his side, eyes fixed on the battleship. "Our deflector shields can't withstand much more of this!"
"Remain on course," the former Sith orders calmly.
Jinn nods at Vader, getting his idea, and glances down at the controls. "Do you have a cloaking device?"
"This is not a warship!" Captain Panaka snaps, looking angry and betrayed. "We have no weapons, Ambassador! We're a nonviolent people, which is why the Trade Federation was brave enough to attack us in the first place!"
A series of explosions jars the Nubian, and the lights on the control panel flicker weakly. An alarm sounds, shrill and angry. The transport shudders, its power drive stalling momentarily in a high-pitched whine.
"No weapons," Qui-Gon Jinn breathes. Obi-Wan is next to him, feeling the weight of the other's gaze as it shifts to find him, steady and unwavering. One hand settles on Ric Olie's shoulder.
"The Trade Federation utilizes Pulser tracking for its armaments. Rotate the ship. It will make it laborious for them to get an interpretation on us." Vader adds exactly what's on Qui-Gon's mind though in a much different speech pattern. It is obvious he is experienced in these types of life-threatening situations.
The pilot nods, flips a series of levers, and puts the ship into a slow spin. Ahead, the battleship fills the viewport, then lost focus. The Queen's transport accelerates, racing toward the enemy craft, whipping past towers and gunports, bays, and stabilizers, speeding down an alleyway of jagged metal protrusions and cannon fire. A laser bolt hammers into them, causing sparks and smoke to explode from one panel, sending the ship reeling. For a brief moment, they are tumbling out of control. Then Ric Olie pulls back hard on the controls, and the hull of the battleship recedes.
"Something's wrong," the pilot announces quietly, fighting the steering, feeling the ship shudder beneath. "Shields are down!"
They continue to spin, to hug the cavernous shell of the Trade Federation battleship, so close that the larger guns were rendered useless and only the smaller could chance to fire at them. But without shields, even a glancing hit could be disastrous.
"Sending out the repair crew!" Olie shouts and flips a lever.
On the viewscreen, an airlock snaps open, and one by one a series of Astromech Droids pops out of the hatch and onto the transport's hull. The transport straightens and levels out, and the spinning stopped. The droids motor swiftly across the hull, seeking out the damage as Ric Olie hugs the battleship's shadow in an effort to protect them.
But now there is a new threat. Unable to bring the weapons of their warship to bear in an effective manner, the Trade Federation command dispatches a squad of starfighters. Small, sleek, robot attack ships, consists of twin compartments attached to a rounded, swept-back head. As they roar out of the battleship bays, their compartments open into long slits that expose their laser guns. Down the length of the mother ship they tore, seeking out the Queen's transport. Fast and maneuverable, they have no trouble working close to the battleship's hull. In seconds, they are on top of the transport, weapons firing. Ric Olie struggles to find cover and gain speed. Two of the R2 units are blown away, one on a direct hit, the second when its hold on the transport hull is shattered.
On the viewscreen, the blue R2 unit can be seen working furiously to connect a series of wires exposed by a damaged hull plate. Laser fire lances all around it, but it continues its effort without stopping. The fourth droid, working close by, disappears in a cloud of shattered metal and brilliant fire.
Now only the blue unit remains, still busy amid the onslaught of Trade Federation starfighters. Behind him, Vader stares out the viewport that is racked with explosions, closing his eyes and reaching into battle meditation.
Battle meditation is the ability to use the Force to coordinate allies and even entire fleets of ships, allowing them to perform at maximum efficiency, acting as a single entity with the ability to counter every enemy move quickly and effectively. Though ideal for meditating large-scale conflicts, battle meditation is also effective when employed for the benefit of one's comrades in small skirmishes, attacks, and duels. It can also be appropriate to simultaneously demoralize the opponents, reducing their combat effectiveness. Battle meditation is used to influence armies and fleets to win battles and even wars.
While he was Emperor, Palpatine very rarely used a persistent form of battle meditation that stretched the galaxy. His forces were so effective because he was giving them all enhanced abilities. However, when he died at Endor, his forces fell apart and reverted to ensign level abilities because they had lost their contact with Sidious.
He boosts the morale of the pilot, those who are fighting back, the handmaidens, Padmé, and even the Jedi. More Droids' ships are being blasted out of the sky or obliterated on the spot. The ones who are doing it aren't even certain how they receive a sudden boost in morality, but they didn't question it.
Something changes on the cockpit display, and Ric Olie gives a shout of approval. "The shields are up! That little droid did it!" He jams the thrusters all the way forward, and the transport rockets away from both the battleship and the starfighters, leaving the Trade Federation blockade and the planet of Naboo behind.
The lone R2 unit turns and motors back into the airlock and disappears from view.
At those words, Vader opens his eyes and allows the meditation that he had influenced over all on board to cease and allows them to handle the rest. Naboo is not incompetent, something which his men in the 501st came to learn shortly after the rise of the Empire.
Obi-Wan approaches his Master, disturb. "Master, I suddenly felt the Sith's Force Presence against my own."
"I have reason to believe he used Battle Meditation." Qui-Gon answers. He had used the ability himself before, but Vader's own is much more powerful than his. "A dutiful ability for certain."
When they were well away from any Trade Federation presence, Ric Olie makes a thorough check of the controls, assessing their damage, trying to determine what was needed. Obi-Wan sits next to him in the copilot's seat, lending help. Qui-Gon and Captain Panaka stand behind them, awaiting their report. The Queen and the rest of the Naboo had been secured in other chambers.
Ric Olie shakes his head doubtfully. "We can't go far. The hyperdrive is leaking."
Qui-Gon Jinn nods. "We'll have to land somewhere to make repairs to the ship. What's out there?"
Ric Olie punches in a star chart, and they hunch over the monitor, studying it.
"Here, Master," Obi-Wan replies, his sharp eyes picking out the only choice that made any sense. "Tatooine. It's small, poor, and out of the way. It attracts little attention. The Trade Federation has no presence there."
"How can you be sure?" Captain Panaka asks quickly.
Qui-Gon glances at him. "It's controlled by the Hutts."
Panaka starts in alarm. "The Hutts?"
"It's risky," Obi-Wan agrees, "but there's no reasonable alternative."
Captain Panaka is not convinced. "You can't take Her Royal Highness there! The Hutts are gangsters and slavers! If they discovered who she was-"
"It would be no different than if we landed on a planet in a system controlled by the Trade Federation," Qui-Gon interrupts, "except the Hutts aren't looking for the Queen, which gives us an advantage."
The Queen's head of security starts to say something more, then thinks better of it. He takes a deep breath instead; frustration etches on his smooth, dark face, and turns away.
Vader hides a grimace, but he knows leaving his younger self in slavery would not be wise.
"Set course for Tatooine."