Chapter 22
Disclaimer: I think if I were George Lucas, I think I would have noticed by now, and besides, I don't think my long hair and my boobs would look all that great on him, anyway.
oOo
Anakin was bored. For the last few days, he had always been busy doing something exciting: racing virtual pods, hanging around with Qui-Gon, watching the awesome fight between Qui-Gon and the Sith, as he had learned they were called. He had asked Obi-Wan all the questions he could think of, spied on the handmaidens, unabashedly flirted with Padmé during political meetings with the Supreme Chancellor, watched a Jedi jump down from a platform at least two and a half kilometres above the ground and return completely unscathed (though feeling immensely stupid and maybe just a little out of breath) and much more. And now, the only one who was present to alleviate his boredom was Jar Jar, though that might turn out to be even worse than having no one, Anakin suspected.
So far, Jar Jar hadn't done anything funny or entertaining or even annoying, but that was only because he hadn't done anything at all. He only sat there and stared at the red wall opposite him. For Anakin, that made him about as interesting as the red wall he, too, had been staring at for the last half an hour, though the boy was not entirely sure about that: red could be a very fascinating colour to stare at.
Padmé had been nowhere in sight since she had gone to help the Queen exchange one terribly complicated dress for another, equally terribly complicated one, though Anakin failed to see how this dress was better suited to the occasion than the last one. He found them both hideous, anyway. For him, they held nothing of the fascination of Padmé's red and orange and yellow one. Though Anakin had studied it for hours, he still hadn't been able to figure just how the soft and shimmering fabric could be so orange at the top and such a pale yellow at the hem seemingly without changing colours at all. Every piece of cloth Anakin had seen so far in his life had either been a drab beige, tan, muted greyish-white or simply brown. But despite Anakin's readily apparent ignorance, something still seemed to tell him that the Queen's outfits were ghastly. It was probably this Force-thing Qui-Gon was always going on about. If it had a sense of humour, as Obi-Wan occasionally claimed (though sometimes he didn't seem all too pleased about that because the Padawan had admitted that he felt like the receiving part of its sarcastic jokes all too often for his taste), why shouldn't it have an opinion on fashion, too?
As Captain Panaka strolled past them, both Anakin and Jar Jar perked up hopefully. Maybe something would happen after all, and they could do something more interesting than just sitting there waiting for the political talks to finish, like going on a cruise around Coruscant or running down the seemingly endless corridors of the Senate building. It had been pointed out to Anakin on their flight here, and the boy thought that with a mushroom that huge, there must be a hallway going all the way around. Such a hallway that would essentially be circular but because of its size probably only had a slight curve would be the ideal place to play 'Large Hadron Collider' in. If he and someone else, like preferably Padmé or maybe Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon or the Captain – hell, he would even accept Jar Jar – ran around the great convocation camber in huge circles, they could collide once they reached the necessary velocity and then see what happened. Maybe they could even create a black hole that would swallow up the senate! Then these stupid talks he was excluded from would end for good.
Unfortunately, though, Panaka just walked past Anakin and Jar Jar without sparing them a glance. He had much more pressing matters on his mind than childish games, and he frankly had no idea what a 'Large Hadron Collider' was, anyway. So he briskly strode past them and into the room where Queen Amidala (this time, it was actually the real one, for once) and Senator Palpatine (also the real one) were talking about the situation on Naboo. Both the Senator and the young Queen wore formal attire, and for once Amidala's robe looked less like a harlequin's costume and more like a traditional Japanese kimono, which she probably only wore because it was the only piece of clothing which could be worn with an obi without looking completely ridiculous. The Queen's usually elaborately coiffed hair was hidden beneath what looked like a half-finished self-knit tablecloth and an extra-large brush.
Palpatine's robe seemed to be made from an old carpet, because it was just as stiff and with the same awful pattern as some of the carpets Anakin had seen in the huge building they were in.
"There is no civility, only politics," stated the Senator. Then, he paused for a moment, looking unsure. "Or did I get that wrong? I am not all that familiar with the Jedi Code, I have to admit. It might also be that it says 'There is no passion, there is senility'. Yes, that was it. I'm positive that I got it right this time, though you might want to check with your Jedi bodyguards later on. But the circumstantial evidence points to my being right, because Master Yoda would then be the perfect example of a perfect Jedi."
Palpatine almost seemed to spit the last bit of the sentence. Queen Amidala's questions about the Jedi Code had been the last thing Palpatine had expected. Apparently, it had something to do with a good-looking apprentice who had tried to discourage further advances by claiming that Jedi were forbidden attachments, anyway. Palpatine had gleefully made sure that the Padawan would be pestered by lovelorn handmaidens and the occasional monarch in the future. Although that didn't further his plans in the slightest, he still immensely enjoyed being the cause for many awkward and embarrassing situations in the Jedi Padawan's near future, out of sheer spite and malice.
"The Republic is not what it once was. The Senate is full of greedy, squabbling delegates," the Senator said, though he didn't sound all that upset by it. "Myself included, of course, with the minor difference that I'm the greediest and most squabbling of them all, and with the major difference that I will succeed where they have failed and will fail. I know. I have seen it," Papatine mumbled under his breath, with a satisfied purr like a cat that had just caught not just a particularly fat mouse but a full-blown member of the lagomorph family, like a hare or a rabbit. "There is no interest in the common good."
Palpatine paced up and down a bit in front of the couch the Queen was sitting on. This was what he was best at: telling people the truth, but with such a clever twist that he was far from being truthful. Sure enough, most of his fellow Senators were only interested in filling their own pockets with as much wealth as they would hold and in becoming even more powerful than they already were. What he didn't say, though, was that their petty duplicity paled next to what Palpatine planned for the Republic.
With a distressed sigh that was entirely false, he finally stopped his pacing and turned to face Queen Amidala. It was almost too easy to manipulate this naïve girl into doing what he wanted her to do. Palpatine's sithly side would have wished for someone who offered at least a bit of a challenge to his intellect, but he took what he got. In any case, it was not as if he wouldn't be defied on his way to galactic dominion at all, so he didn't complain if things were a bit easier to handle than expected, at least for the moment.
With a completely fake look of sympathy on his face, the part-time Senator and full-time Sith continued his carefully fabricated version of the truth.
"I must be frank, Your Majesty. There is little chance the Senate will act on the invasion."
"Chancellor Valorum seems to think there is hope," Padmé countered in her royally droning voice.
"Well, he's wrong then!" Palpatine answered a bit too testily. Immediately, he noticed and rectified his mistake: "If I may say so, Your Majesty, the Chancellor, unlike me, has little real power, though that may be excused since, also unlike me, the Chancellor is not a Sith Lord. He is mired by baseless accusations of corruption that I spread for my convenience. I am… erm, I mean the bureaucrats are in charge now."
Fortunately for Palpatine and rather less fortunately for the rest of the galaxy, Padmé hadn't been listening properly to the Senator because she had been trading funny faces with Anakin through the glass door. At that point, Jar Jar finally noticed Anakin was pulling faces at the Queen. Even as a hapless Gungan, he knew that that was probably uncalled for and so took the boy by the hand and they walked off together.
"What options have we?" she asked because her primary source of entertainment was being led away by Jar Jar but still she rather thought about the next grimace she could show Anakin than about a solution to their problem.
That was just what Palpatine had been waiting for.
"Our best choice would be to push for the election of a stronger Supreme Chancellor, one who could control the bureaucrats and give us justice and who will finally destroy the Republic in a long and brutal war which only serves to kill as many Jedi as possible and then crown himself Emperor. Yes, that's the kind of Chancellor we need…" Palpatine's voice faded away to a dreamy whisper and the Senator looked like his thoughts were about thirteen years ahead in daydreams of the future.
After a short moment of being lost in his daydreams – if they were anything as innocuous as simple dreams – he returned to business.
"You could call for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum," he suggested, the eager gleam in his eyes barely hidden by his concerned façade.
"He has been our strongest supporter," Padmé pointed out disbelievingly. Here was the Chancellor, willing to help them and according to Palpatine the accusations of corruption were untrue, probably the closest thing to an actually honest politician they could get, and Palpatine wanted to replace him? Padmé couldn't quite put a finger on it, but something seemed just a bit off about that plan and about the Senator.
"Our only other choice would be to submit a plea to the courts," Palpatine informed her.
"The courts take even longer to decide things than the Senate," Padmé said. If these courts were anything like her own court, they would even need ages just to decide which clothes to wear to the hearing. "Our people are dying, Senator, and my beloved wardrobe is being torn apart. We must do something quickly to stop the Federation," the young Queen insisted.
"To be realistic, Your Majesty-" Palpatine started to say.
"But I don't want to be realistic!" Padmé shouted, her juvenile temper finally getting the better of her. "I want to do something! I want to have my favourite clothes back so that I don't have to wear that terrible white one I'm wearing now any more. It looks hideous! And doesn't the thing on my head look just like a self-knitted tablecloth someone ripped apart and placed on my head? It's awful! I want to have the other white one back, the one with the many layers which I have particularly reserved for parades! It looks so much better on me. I can't just sit around here! I have to take some kind of action, even though it might be needlessly dangerous! I want to behead people!"
Palpatine was fascinated. This girl could be outright vicious if someone threatened her clothes! But as much as he was pro-rage and anti-serenity, he had no use for an upset Queen right now. Rather, he needed a determined and tragic one who wouldn't start demanding people's heads in front of the whole Senate.
So he started again: "To be realistic, Your Majesty, I think we're going to have to accept Federation control for the time being."
He studied Padmé from under raised brows, anticipating another tantrum from the girl who had been so volatile just seconds before.
Instead, though, the Queen just coolly countered: "That is something I cannot do." With that, this discussion was settled for her and she briskly stood up, regally inclined her head by ways of a goodbye, left the Senator's chambers, which were much too red and black for her taste, anyway, and headed off to find Anakin and show him the amusingly contorted face she had thought of earlier.
oOo
Anakin stared through the transparent door. Inside, Palpatine and the Queen were still discussing their oh-so-important grown-up-things while he had to sit outside and wait and be bored. At least watching them and trying to guess what they were saying from reading their lips was slightly less boring than staring at the inert wall, even though it was red, just like almost everything else in Palpatine's residence. The Senator was quite fond of red, it seemed. The only thing that wasn't red was the cylindrical device the curious boy had found wedged behind one of the more unsightly pieces of art scattered along the corridor - for some reason it reminded him of a Jedi's lightsaber, but why would Palpatine have one of those when he wasn't even a Jedi. Even though Anakin knew that it was probably a bad idea to play with something that belonged to someone as important as the Senator, he was intrigued and just had to push that little button there to the side.
Luckily, Anakin had angled the business end of the thing up and away from him, or else he would have clearly been stabbed by the crimson blade of what he assumed must be the most oversized laser bread knife in history.
Finally, this was getting interesting! Anakin was elated at the fascinating toy he had found.
"I am the mighty Qui-Gon Jinn," he declared, playing at being a Jedi and swinging the red blade around, "and I'm fighting that scary black guy because he almost ran over my best friend Anakin Skywalker!"
Enthusiastically waving the weapon around, Anakin almost decapitated Jar Jar before he managed to first literally disarm and then behead one of the statues of questionable beauty but incalculable value that were liberally distributed along the corridor.
Looking around sheepishly to see if someone beside the Gungan had noticed his little accident, he quickly put the bread knife back. It seemed only logical that oversized bread knifes also were extremely sharp-edged, especially since just about everything seemed to be overkill with politicians, be it clothes, apartments painted completely red or, apparently, bread knives.
So Anakin returned to staring at Palpatine and trying to read his lips.
His frown of concentration deepened as he quietly informed Jar Jar what was being said. "From what I could gather, the Senator just informed the Queen that it was his birthday a few days ago and that he plans to throw a big party in the evening. He invited the Queen and her entourage to come, too, and told her that there would be a giant cake the form of a huge spherical space station and lots of other food except eggplants because he doesn't like them and he even engaged a dee-jay because he likes some groovy music."
Anakin looked thrilled. "Do you think we can come to the party, too?" he asked Jar Jar, who only answered with a noncommittal shrug. "I hope so," Anakin said before turning back to his self-appointed task. "The Queen doesn't seem all too pleased with the idea of a party; she says she doesn't have the right kind of clothes with her. Oh pity, that means no party for us," he added disappointedly.
When he turned around again, Palpatine had his back to Anakin. Silently, the boy urged him to turn around again. He wanted to know more about the party.
Come on; just turn around a bit more. I wanna see your face! Hey, Palpy-what's your face, turn around! Hey, Mister Senator-guy! What's your first name, anyway?
As expected, the Senator didn't do him the favour of turning around - though unbeknownst to Anakin he had sensed the boy's thoughts quite clearly.
Anakin occupied himself for a few minutes with guessing the Senator's first name. Almost everyone else had a first name, like Anakin Skywalker or Qui-Gon Jinn, and then there were people who had even more than one first name, like Padmé Amidala Naberrie. Anakin wondered why her middle name was the same as the Queen's, but then decided that they were probably relatives or something. Of course there were also those who weren't actually important enough to get a first name, like Captain Panaka, but surely a Senator was much more important than a simple head of security, so Anakin was positive that Palpatine must have a first name.
At first he tried guessing, but none of the names Anakin came up with seemed to fit the dignified Senator, and the only name Anakin could really think of (never having known all that many other names in his life) was Ben, anyway.
In order to get a better look at Palpatine to intensify his scrutiny, Anakin stepped closer to the transparent door. To his alarm, the door swished open. He must have activated the proximity detectors of the automatic door.
Startled, Anakin quickly backed away from the door. Thankfully, no one inside had noticed his misstep.
Anakin had been much too stunned by the door suddenly opening to catch much of what had been said on the inside, but one thing he had understood quite clearly. The Senator had definitely said: "I must be Frank, Your Majesty."
Proud that he had managed to solve the mystery about the Senator's first name, he tried it out a few times, just to hear how it sounded. "Frank Palpatine. Frank Palpatine. Frank Palpatine… yeah, that does sound right," he finally decided.
That was the reason why, for many years to come, Anakin would privately think of Palpatine as Frank and occasionally call him by his alleged first name in public. Later, as the Senator who would by then have become Chancellor became a close friend of his, he would even go so far as to call him 'Frankie-Boy' when they had their private chats.
Palpatine (who really didn't have any first names just as Yoda didn't have any surnames) was puzzled by this seemingly random christening to no end. Also, Obi-Wan would worry for years about his Padawan's imaginary friend who apparently went by the ridiculous name of 'Frank' and whose opinions much too closely resembled those of a real Sith Lord for Obi-Wan's peace of mind.
Soon after, Jar Jar announced that he needed to go to the toilet. Apparently, he was afraid of doing so by himself, and so he asked Anakin to come along.
"Oh, all right." Anakin agreed, feeling a bit unsure if he really wanted to accompany the Gungan at all, but Jar Jar had already grabbed his wrist and was pulling him along.
Anakin just hoped he wouldn't obtain any permanent psychological damage from their trip to the fresher. One could never know with Jar Jar.
oOo
Qui-Gon Jinn was waiting right outside the doors to the Chamber of the Jedi High Council, the rhythmic stomps of his restless and impatient pacing slowly chipping away at his own dwindling restraint. Why was it always that one had to wait for the Council? Qui-Gon couldn't help but think that this was a demonstration of power, which only served to heighten his irritation. Why did they request his immediate presence when they refused to let him in once he arrived and instead continued whatever they did in there? They could just as well have finished their Council stuff and then called for him.
His pacing increased along with his blood pressure.
From the side of the foyer, where Qui-Gon's Padawan sat on a bench near the wall, came yet another soft sigh.
Of course, Obi-Wan wouldn't go so far as to ask him to stop pacing or even chide the Master for his un-Jedi-like behaviour, but the occasional sigh indicated that Qui-Gon's mood was affecting him, too.
Obi-Wan had to bite his tongue to refrain from once again asserting that he had a very bad feeling about this.
Unfortunately, though, he had a very bad feeling about this. Not only had the Sith, whom the Jedi had believed extinct for the last millennium, suddenly and unexpectedly reappeared – as if that in and of itself wasn't bad enough already.
Obi-Wan was also confused and on edge because of Anakin. Though he seemed like a nice enough boy and the Padawan had taken a tentative liking to him, the cold hard lump of dread that had settled in the bottom of his stomach unequivocally contradicted the air of innocent curiosity and friendliness Anakin radiated, and the Fore also told him something else entirely.
Obi-Wan's musings were suddenly interrupted when the Council's aide announced that the Council would see them now and bade them enter.
Qui-Gon flatly refused to do so and told the aide that since he had to wait till the Council was done with whatever it was they did when no one was looking, now they would have to wait till he was finished pacing. The aide backed off, completely bewildered, and retreated into the Council Chamber to inform the revered Masters of Master Jinn's decision.
This time, Obi-Wan's sigh was a bit louder than before.
After another five minutes of waiting the Council sent the aide again, and Qui-Gon could be convinced to finally come in without any more fuss.
The Master marched into the round chamber at the top of one of the towers of the Jedi Temple, followed by his Padawan who entered at a more sedate and appropriate pace.
They were greeted by the disapproving and hard stares of the Council members. This didn't bode all too well for the debriefing to come with both the Council and Qui-Gon already upset.
The Master-Padawan-team walked to the middle of the chamber and bowed – curtly in one and more respectfully in the other case. The eyes of the Council members were fixed on them from all sides. Obi-Wan always wondered why the seats were arranged in a full circle instead of a half-circle so that they could be faced all at once and not so that some of the Masters would have to look at their backs – though at least the female Masters hadn't protested against this arrangement so far.
As usual, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were primarily facing Master Yoda, and that by default meant that they were also facing Master Windu (who looked especially grim today), Master Mundi (the alien with the incredibly tall forehead) and Master Koon (who wore a breathing mask which was the precursor of the breathing apparatus for Darth Vader).
At least they didn't have to face the only genuine Yeti Jedi – his face was completely hidden behind a veil of thick and long fur and so his face was even more unreadable than everyone else's.
Obi-Wan was even more relieved that they didn't have to look at Master Poof. The Master had an extraordinarily long and thin neck, which shouldn't by all means be able to actually support his head. Somehow, his head still didn't simply fall off, but it constantly swayed back and forth. As a young child, Obi-Wan had been fascinated by Master Poof and had often had trouble paying proper attention to what the Council Masters were saying because he had stared at Master Poof's swaying head for too long and had gotten hypnotized by the continuous and unvarying motion. Thankfully, he hadn't been the only one to be so affected by the alien Master's head, and so Master Poof had been assigned a seat roughly opposite from Master Windu so that the people who talked to the Council didn't end up in a strange state of mind because they had looked at the swaying head for too long. It had also been made a requirement for any new Masters accepted into the Council to withstand Master Poof's hypnotic effect for at least half an hour.
Mace Windu greeted them, his customary frown even deeper than normal.
"Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi."
Qui-Gon answered just as grimly. "Masters of the Council," he said, with a terse nod.
Obi-Wan silently pleaded that his Master wouldn't bring up the whole waiting issue again, and for once Qui-Gon did him the favour of not immediately quarrelling with the Council.
The Padawan was immensely grateful that his Master instead recounted the mission moderately accurately. He quickly summed up the events on Naboo and skimmed the surface of what had happened on Tatooine. Before the Masters of the Council could further investigate Qui-Gon's somewhat un-Jedi-like and arguably legal actions, Qui-Gon baffled them with the revelation of the warrior he had fought in the desert.
"He was trained in the Jedi arts," he stated. Somewhere in the galaxy, Darth Maul silently thanked him for referring to him as a 'he' instead of 'it'. He had been really angry about that back on Tatooine.
After a short pause in which Qui-Gon sensed the appreciation of someone he really didn't know for a reason he really didn't know, he resumed his mission report: "My only conclusion can be that it was a Sith Lord."
With his usual bluntness, Qui-Gon once again had completely forestalled the Council's agreement. "Impossible," Ki-Adi Mundi immediately protested. "The Sith have been extinct for a millennium!"
"I do not believe the Sith could have returned without us knowing," Mace Windu agreed.
For some reason, though, both didn't seem all that sure because they looked at Yoda expectantly.
"Hmmmm…" Yoda harrumphed. His eyes were half-closed and he looked distinctly sleepy – he probably had been looking at Master Poof too much.
"Hmmm, hard to see, the Dark Side is. Probably because dark, it is, and our eyes, light they need to see," Yoda reasoned.
Qui-Gon didn't look exactly pleased with the Council's verdict, but then, Obi-Wan would have been very surprised if he had.
"We will use all our resources to unravel this mystery," Mace promised. "We will discover the identity of your attacker. May the Force be with you," he finished, clearly dismissing Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.
The two Jedi bowed once again, Qui-Gon's bow noticeably less deep and respectful than his Padawan's, barely more, in fact, than a brusque nod. And while Obi-Wan had all intentions to heed the dismissal, Qui-Gon showed no signs of leaving.
The Padawan was already halfway to the door before he turned around and awaited the inevitable. The debriefing had gone unexpectedly well so far, but of course Qui-Gon couldn't possibly leave it at that. Obi-Wan couldn't quite ban the look of aggravation from his face.
"Master Qui-Gon," Yoda inquired, "more to say you have?"
"With your permission, my Master," Qui-Gon began – Obi-Wan was quite impressed with the way his Master could suddenly become polite when he wanted something – "I have encountered a vergence in the Force."
Qui-Gon looked around, challenging the Council to disagree.
"A vergence, you say?" Yoda asked disbelievingly. "What kind of word, that is? My spellchecker, not know this word, it does, and find it in my Oxford Advanced Learner's Dictionary, I could not."
Mace Windu also seemed sceptical. "Located around a person?" he inquired warily.
"A boy," Qui-Gon finally admitted. "His cells have the highest concentration of midi-chlorians I have seen in a life-form."
In the background, Obi-Wan shrugged apologetically. He had done all he could to reconcile his Master with reason, but Qui-Gon had proven as stubborn as always.
The Council Masters were not pleased. They had quite enough of Qui-Gon's Chosen Ones, and this was clearly where the maverick Jedi was headed. Besides, they were really tired of Qui-Gon's state of continuous ignorance concerning cell biology when they had specifically instructed Obi-Wan to enlighten his Master about the difference between real mitochondria and imaginary midi-chlorians. And now Qui-Gon completely topped it all by adding: "It is possible he was conceived by the midi-chlorians."
Considering the disbelieving looks some of the Council Members traded at the ignorance of a certain Jedi Master, Obi-Wan dreaded that now he would also have to inform his Master about the details of reproduction, and that was not exactly a task he was looking forward to.
Master Windu could already guess where his dear yet sometimes obstinate friend was headed with this. "You refer to the prophecy of the one who will bring balance to the Force. You believe it's this boy?" Mace sounded incredulous. So Qui-Gon still believed strongly in what was essentially considered a joke – albeit a rather bad one – by the Council.
"I don't presume to-" Qui-Gon started to say, but he as interrupted by a gloating Yoda: "But you do! Revealed your opinion is."
"I request the boy be tested, Master," Qui-Gon requested, true to his word.
Yoda crossed his eyes – which made him look even more stupid than he did, anyway – and he said in his strange raspy voice: "Trained as a Jedi, you request for him, hmmm?"
"Finding him was the will of the Force. I have no doubt of that," Qui-Gon firmly insisted.
Master Mundi could barely refrain from saying that certainly only Qui-Gon was the single Master in the entire Jedi Order who would claim to know the precise will of the Force.
The Council Members traded meaningful looks, though Obi-Wan was not sure about their actual meaning, aside from the fact that the Council seemed as displeased with his Master as he was, if not even more so.
Finally, with a disgruntled shake of his head, Mace acquiesced: "Bring him before us, then."
Without another word but with a slightly deeper bow this time, Qui-Gon left the Council Chamber, and Obi-Wan fell in step behind him. The Padawan felt like he had to have a rather serious and possibly also very embarrassing talk with his Master about cellular biology, the manner of mammal reproduction and Anakin.
oOo
Anakin had finally found his way back from the fresher. With Jar Jar's navigational skills, they had been in the basement, in the attic and even in the adjacent building before they had actually found a fresher that was to the Gungan's liking – or any fresher at all, for that matter.
It had taken Anakin half an eternity to find his way back to Palpatine's senatorial quarters. Now he stood at the front door and one of the security guys who had come with them on the Naboo cruiser wouldn't let him through.
"The boy's here to see Padmé," he said into his comm. link.
Now Anakin was affronted. He was about to strictly tell the man that he had a name, thank you very much, when a female voice answered: "Let him in."
The door swished open and Anakin entered the quarters, which were decorated in just the same shade of red as the whole rest of this part of the building. As soon as he had taken a few steps inside, one of the handmaidens intercepted him.
"I'm sorry, Ani, but Padmé's not here right now," the dark-clad handmaiden explained.
"Who is it?" the Queen asked from the next room. Obviously the numerous layers of make-up must have affected her hearing because the handmaiden had clearly said Anakin's name and she had just been a few meters away.
"Anakin Skywalker to see Padmé, Your Highness," the handmaiden answered in a strange accent. Why she should have such a strange accent when she was from Naboo and nobody else on Naboo talked in the same unusual way was very odd, though.
The Queen was obviously busy deciding which dress to wear for her address in the Senate. Several of the silver boxes in the room were open and revealed what they contained: lots and lots of clothes.
Anakin politely bowed to the Queen, though no matter how much he tried, he couldn't quite keep the chortle at the Queen's ridiculous dress from escaping his lips.
"I've sent me… erm, I mean Padmé on an errand. I really must pay attention. I get so mixed up sometimes," she said, displeased with her own lack of focus.
"I'm on my way to the Jedi Temple to start my training, I hope," Anakin elaborated. "I may never see her again before I'll marry her – at least not for the next ten years or so – so I came to say goodbye."
"We will tell her for you. We are sure her heart goes with you," the Queen said in her emotionless voice, which made the assurance seem somehow a bit hollow.
Still, Anakin bowed again and said "Thank you, Your Highness" before he left, feeling disappointed that he hadn't seen Padmé again, and confused about how the Queen and Padmé would continue living if their hearts would leave their bodies to go with him when they didn't.
Padmé had decided that addressing the Senate qualified as important enough so that she would do it herself instead of having one of her handmaidens do it, though she certainly would have preferred to go on a sightseeing tour. She had heard that recently, the Jedi Council had granted access to the more public parts of the Temple which were all shown to interested visitors by a guided tour. As fresher duty had slowly failed to stop rampant Padawans from playing pranks – mostly on Masters Yoda and Windu, for some reason – they had to come up with something else, something infinitely more dreadful than cleaning filthy freshers or the refectory's dishes – guiding nosy tourists around the Temple, politely answering their stupid and prying questions.
The prank rate had instantly dropped by 73 per cent.
Padmé threw a wistful glance in the direction where she thought the Jedi Temple was located – in fact she was staring towards the building that housed the CIA, which was short for the Caring Individuals of Alderaan, a charity organisation which obviously came from Alderaan and mostly stood for galactic peace, gave food and medical help to poor people and regularly protested against the immense pollution of Coruscant's last remaining three and a half trees still existing outside the Jedi Temple. They did have a rather extraordinary and impressive building, though, so Padmé's mix-up was easily understandable.
Then, the young Queen took a calming breath, straightened her back and marched into the Great Convocation Chamber where most Senators were already in their little flying saucers.
She didn't have to wait long for the session to begin. Unfortunately, it started with a roll call, which took about two and a half hours. At first, Padmé was impressed and honoured that so many Senators had come: there were Wookies, Twi'leks, Neimoidians and all kinds of funny-looking aliens, like the E.T.s with their short, squat bodies, their turtle-like necks and their glowing fingertips. But soon, the endless list of names was becoming boring, and so Padmé simply sat next to Palpatine and they quietly made fun of Senators with a noticably alien physique.
They had so much fun chatting about the peculiarities of Senator Krak'chrwns-Priglumos that they almost didn't notice that Chancellor Valorum had just called the last name on the list and now announced: "The chair recognizes the Senator from the sovereign system of Naboo."
Padmé was a bit confused. Of course, she also found chairs which were capable of recognizing Senators – or any people, for that matter – pretty amazing, but she didn't understand why the Chancellor would announce that during a special session that was about her planet. Maybe he was a salesman who wanted to sell a few of these immensely intelligent chairs to her?
Thankfully, though, Palpatine knew what to do. He stepped up to the steering panel of their UFO – which should correctly be termed KFO, since it was a Known Flying Object rather than an Unknown one, but UFO simply sounded better – and they floated towards the Chancellor's podium.
"Supreme Chanellor, delegates of the Senate," Palpatine greeted everyone present in a magnified voice that echoed through the huge dome containing thousands of Senators from all over the galaxy. "A tragedy has occurred which started right here with my devious scheming…" Palaptine suddenly stopped. There he had almost gone and uncovered his secret plans again. He really should pay better attention to what he proclaimed in the Senate.
Qui-Gon would have envied the casualness of the Force suggestion that ensued, had he known about it, and seconds later the previous few seconds were effectively obliterated from the minds of everyone present.
Palpatine calmly started again. "A tragedy has occurred which started right here with the taxation of trade routes and has now engulfed our entire planet in the oppression of the Trade Federation."
It took exactly 2.47 seconds for the representatives of the Trade Federation to vehemently deny this. "This is outrageous! I object to the Senator's statements!"
The Chancellor vainly tried to reinstall some semblance of order. "The chair does not recognize the Senator from the Trade Federation at this time!" he rebuked the Neimoidian delegates.
Padmé's opinion of that obscure chair Valorum so desperately wanted to sell went up by a few notches – five notches to be correct. She was still a bit unsure as to the meaning of all this chair-business, but if the chair didn't want to look at the Neimoidians, she could fully understand and even heartily agree with that.
The Trade Federation seemed to be effectively silenced by that for the moment, and Palpatine took the chance to introduce Padmé: "To state our allegations, I present Queen Amidala, recently elected ruler of the Naboo, who speaks on our behalf."
A few of the Senators wondered why someone would elect a ruler who was so obviously unfit to serve the purpose of drawing straight lines with her, but the rest of them were aware that the ruler was in that case a monarch instead of a piece of plastic marked with centimetres.
Palpatine left the dais of their UFO and Padmé stepped up. She had donned the most ridiculous dress with huge shoulders and complete with what resembled a jester's hat on her head for the occasion to impress the Senators, but now she felt distinctly stupid. All the other Senators wore much more elegant yet much less garish and bizarre robes than her.
But since it was too late to do anything about that now – she should have listened to the chortles and foolish grins she had received from just about anyone who met her when there had still been time to change her attire – she valiantly took the place the Senator had just vacated and for a few seconds tried to remember her text.
"Honourable representatives of the Senate," Padmé began. "I come to you under the gravest of circumstances. The Naboo system has been invaded by the droid armies of the Trade-" was as far as she got before the Trade Federation rudely interrupted her.
"I object! There is no proof! This is incredible!" The Neimoidians were livid, their faces flushed a bright blue – red would look rather strange on them – and they vented their disbelief at such vile accusations by loudly protesting. "We recommend a commission be sent to Naboo to ascertain the truth," they demanded.
Padmé looked like she would burst into tears any minute. Here she was, feeling really stupid already with her ludicrous clothes and her droning voice, and now these bastards were accusing her of lying and simply wouldn't let her finish her carefully prepared and memorized speech! This was her great moment, her chance to leave a good first impression with all these important politicians and while she was at it, she might as well help her people, and these slimy green aliens were completely ruining it!
Now it was her turn to start protesting. Stamping her food like a willful child (which, with barely fourteen years of age, she still could be) she started out with her furious tirade: "Oh my gosh, I can't believe you just said that! I am the Queen of the Naboo, and I am important and will not be interrupted by such ugly creatures as you, and I want my planet back! And if I find you have destroyed a single one of my dresses, I will… I will… I will…" Padmé's breath hitched theatrically. "I will start to cry!" The Queen's chin wobbled alarmingly and she seemed so miserable that many a Senator couldn't help but feel sympathy for that poor child.
Not so the three-eyed aliens, though. They felt they should say something, too, because they hadn't said anything in quite some time, and since they were genetically lacking the capacity to feel sympathy, they agreed with the Trade Federation. "The Congress of Malastare concurs with the honourable delegate from the Trade Federation. A commission must be appointed," the representative insisted.
Padmé thought that Malastare sounded somehow familiar. Wasn't that the planet where, according to Qui-Gon, they had very fast and very dangerous pod races? Why would such a planet be in the Republic and why wouldn't the Republic take action against illegal races if this planet were a part of it? This seemed all awfully strange to her.
"The point –" the Chancellor was about to say when he was interrupted by the horned blue alien standing next to him. "Excuse me, Chancellor…" and the two politicians started whispering urgently.
"Enter the bureaucrats," Palpatine commented. "The true rulers of the Republic, although you can't draw a straight line with them at all. I know, I tried. There is just nothing straight about them whatsoever. And they are on the payroll of the Trade Federation, I might add. This is where Chancellor Valorum's strength will disappear."
Just to make sure that Valorum wouldn't suffer from an inconveniently timed bout of courage and decide to help Queen Amidala, he added another Force suggestion for good measure. The secret Sith vowed to cut down on them, though, once this vital part of his plan was over, because he didn't want a bunch of very inquisitive Jedi on his doorstep. He didn't feel ready to come out of the closet yet.
"The point is conceded," the Supreme Chancellor announced shortly after. "Will you defer your motion to allow a commission to explore the validity of your accusations?"
Padmé needed a about half a minute to figure out what Valorum had just said. Not even a certain Jedi Padawan she knew talked that complicated.
Since Palpatine had told her that the Chancellor would propose a solution which wasn't in her favour, though, she objected, hoping that her course of action was the right one.
"I will not defer. I have come before you to resolve this attack on our sovereignty now." Take that, man who likes complicated words! Padmé struck back with some of the more convoluted words in her own vocabulary. "I was not elected to watch my clothes being destroyed and to watch my people suffer and die while you discuss this invasion in a committee."
The silence which settled over the Senate Chamber was complete – except for the buzzing of Palpatine's comm. link, which he had forgotten to turn off. Quickly, he switched the offending device off.
Somewhere outside on a landing platform stood the delivery man with Palpatine's order of Chinese food, which was slowly becoming cold, and stared disbelievingly at his comm.
The tiny sound quite effectively destroyed the serious and somber mood in the Senate.
Before the situation could become any more embarrassing, Padmé continued.
"If this body is not capable of action, I suggest new leadership is needed. I move for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum's leadership."
Suddenly, the previously quiet and dignified Senators all jumped up and all of them simultaneously stated their opinion to anyone who wanted to hear it – which was no one except themselves, of course – in loud voices. The Grand Convocation Chamber suddenly transformed into something resembling the arena of a major sporting event, and Valorum was the referee who had just made an unpopular decision.
The Wookie Senators roared their approval – or perhaps it was their disapproval. One could never be sure with Wookies, because no matter what they said, it invariably sounded like they said "Roooaaaaar!"
They always pronounced their roars very carefully, though, so that they couldn't be misunderstood as howls, which equaled the most offensive insult possible for a Wookie.
The E.T.s also animatedly shouted at each other, trying to get a connection to their home planet with the comm. links implanted into the tips of their glowing fingers, but it seemed Naboo hadn't been the only planet not to pay the phone bill on time, and so they couldn't tell their wives/best friends/neighbours/generally anyone willing to listen to them about this upheaval in the Galactic Senate.
Gradually, the excited yells changed to a chorus of "Vote now!"
Valorum had to sit down. He still thought that his suggestion had been the most reasonable course of action. After all, they were a democracy, and it was unacceptable to simply take any accusations at face value without first checking whether they were true. And really, such a commission wouldn't have taken any longer than a day to reach a conclusion if the situation was as straightforward as the Queen had described. In fact, the commission wouldn't even have needed to travel to Naboo, they would probably just have asked the two Jedi involved to elaborate on the whole affair. The Queen's vote of no confidence had caught him completely unawares, and he felt shocked and deeply sad about her mistrust when he had only honestly tried to help her.
The booming shouts for order by the horned blue alien next to him startled him out of his misery. Finis Valorum, former Supreme Chancellor, didn't dare look anyone in the face for fear of seeing the condemnation in the Senator's eyes. He had tried to be a good and honest Chancellor, but obviously good and honest wasn't what the Republic wanted. He felt deeply ashamed and withdrew as soon as possible.
"Now they will elect a new Chancellor," Palpatine whispered to Queen Amidala, "a strong Chancellor, one who will not let our tragedy continue, one who will hopefully be me."
Padmé looked all but assured at these words. She had no idea how the situation could have slipped out of control so easily, and she wasn't entirely sure that the vote of no confidence had been a good idea.
She, too, was starting to have a very bad feeling about this.
oOo
Obi-Wan had the strong feeling of déjà-vu as he once again sat outside the Council Chamber with Qui-Gon pacing restlessly up and down the foyer. After having picked up Anakin from the Senator's apartment, they had spent the afternoon in the traffic jam because Qui-Gon had insisted they take the main route which was in fact a sole traffic catastrophe any time of day. Everyone's nerves were a bit frayed by the time they arrived back at the Jedi Temple.
Qui-Gon had rushed off to see the Council about Anakin as soon as they touched down in the hangar, and the fact that they had to wait for a good fifteen minutes before the Council admitted them had done nothing to soothe the Jedi Master's already worn patience.
Anakin had been admitted a short time ago, but Qui-Gon and his Padawan had to wait outside while the Council tested Qui-Gon's newest protégé. Qui-Gon's serenity was nothing more as a considerably cracked veneer of calm as he snapped after pacing for another five minutes: "Let's get away from here. We shall go for a walk."
Obi-Wan stood up and followed his Master on his aimless stroll through the Temple, staying the traditional distance behind Qui-Gon.
And Qui-Gon was not the only one to be tense. Since Anakin had disappeared inside the Council Chamber, the Force was insistently showing Obi-Wan nightmarish flickers of images of what the Padawan presumed to be either glimpses of the future (but what a bleak future that would make) or his own overactive imagination once again getting the better of him.
The Padawan would much prefer if Anakin didn't become a Jedi. Not that he didn't like the boy, but Obi-Wan thought that he would be much better off with a temporary family or even with the Queen whom he seemed to have a huge crush on until they could somehow free his mother. Maybe they could get the Queen to part with one or two of her not-quite-so-favourite dresses to raise a bit of money to send to Miss Skywalker, because as Jedi, neither Qui-Gon nor he had anywhere near the wealth needed to free a slave.
Besides, Anakin was already nine years old. Obi-Wan highly doubted that the Council could let go of enough of their inflexibility to allow anyone who was over six years older than the usual age limit to be trained. Qui-Gon had already asked for quite a lot of people (and things, too) to be trained, claiming that they were the 'Chosen One' and the Counil had refused every time so far. Granted, they almost gave in once when Qui-Gon presented them a mildly Force-sensitive stray puppy, but Obi-Wan had always suspected that that rather had to do something with the huge puppy-eyed look the admittedly quite adorable little creature had given them than with its actual potential as a Jedi.
Qui-Gon had been crushed every time the Council refused his request because he was always so sure to have finally found his Chosen One that it never even crossed his mind that the Jedi Order really didn't have need of either a smelly and rather vicious rat or an even smellier piece of meat that had already come alive again and was crawling not just with germs but – according to Qui-Gon – also with the Living Force, or the puppy with the huge eyes the Council had almost accepted. Or, one of Qui-Gon's more recent applicants, a piece of toast.
Obi-Wan felt he had to inform his Master of the Council's most likely decision, to at least try to soften the impact the Council's refusal would have on him.
"The boy will not pass the Council's test, Master. He is too old," he said quietly just as they stepped onto a balcony to watch the mandatory sunset – there had to be at least one fiery sunset in every episode, and due to Coruscant's extremely polluted atmosphere, they were especially fiery and red on the Republic's capital planet.
But as always, Qui-Gon stubbornly clung to his twisted convictions.
"Anakin will become a Jedi, I promise you," he answered just as quietly.
Obi-Wan's stomach did a back flip at these words, and it was a quite impressive one for a stomach to perform, too.
Even though knowing that it would probably prove just as futile as all the other attempts to get Qui-Gon to see reason, Obi-Wan didn't give up.
"Please don't defy the Council, Master, not again," he implored his stubborn mentor. "I know I said that already about a thousand times, but I will say it a thousand times should it be necessary. I have a bad feeling about this, and I really don't think that the Council will admit Anakin into the Order. Nor am I all too sure that they should. It's not like I wish the boy bad, I just think that he would be much happier – and much less dangerous – if he just stayed with a real family, preferably with his mother. I fear that if he becomes a Jedi, terrible things will happen. Anakin will inexorably spiral out of control. He will slaughter a tribe of the Sand People, he will clandestinely marry a politician – a politician of all people! – and then join the Dark Side because of some irrational fear about his secret wife's death because of birth complications – as if anyone still dies of that in such a highly technological universe as ours, never mind that Jedi are not supposed to have a wife and children. A war will break out which will eventually lead to the destruction of the Jedi Order, and Anakin will be the one to attack the Temple. When Master Windu will fight the Sith Lord, Anakin will chop off his hands so that consequently the Sith Lord can defenestrate Master Windu. And when almost all Jedi are dead, Master Yoda will pick some miserable soul who is already completely devastated by the death of all his friends and the turning of his brother to face this Chosen-One-turned-Sith on a horrible volcanic planet, where they will fight until one of them gains the higher ground. Due to the volcanic nature of the planet their fight takes place on, Anakin will develop a severe Pneumono-ultra-microscopic-silico-volcanoiosis because of all the ashes and dust in the planet's atmosphere and his lung will be permanently damaged so that he will need a shiny black suit and a machine to breathe for him."
Obi-Wan drew in a shaky breath. He seemed a bit overwhelmed at his own pessimistic view of the future as much as he was shaken by this premonition.
Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice, his eyes reflecting concern for that unexpected outburst and exasperation in equal parts.
"You are such a drama queen, Obi-Wan! That's just plain ridiculous. I mean, have you had a good look at Anakin? His round, angelic face, his golden hair and skin, his huge and curious bright blue eyes and these adorable dimples in his cheeks? How can you accuse someone as innocent and sweet as that of such vile crimes? Defenestrate Mace Windu! Kill the Jedi! Next thing you'll start accusing him of killing younglings or some such nonsense. Anakin a Sith, my arse! Padawan, you are much too old for this kind of irrational, childish behaviour," Qui-Gon reproached his apprentice.
Obi-Wan looked properly ashamed of his behaviour. What had he thought, letting his absurd fears run away with his reason like this? This bleak version of the future was such a ridiculous exaggeration that now, come to think of it, even Obi-Wan doubted himself.
And yet… he still once again pleaded with his Master to please accept the Council's verdict and not argue with them any more.
To Obi-Wan's dismay Qui-Gon, with an almost pitying expression in his eyes, told him quietly: "I shall do what I must, Obi-Wan."
The wind seemed to carry a ghostly whisper as if from a great distance to Obi-Wan. He thought he could almost hear the words "You will try!" on the evening breeze, closely followed by a much more familiar voice which insisted that "There is no try!"
Obi-Wan chased the diminutive green Master and the creepy other voice from his thoughts and realized that Qui-Gon had walked away from him, to the edge of the balcony, and was staring down into the busy traffic. He followed his Master and also gazed off into the distance. It seemed so much easier to do than look into Qui-Gon's eyes at the moment.
Though he knew it would presumably be a moot point, Obi-Wan still pointed out that Qui-Gon would in his opinion clash less often with the Council if he just would be a bit less of an obstinate maverick.
"If you would just follow the Code, you would be on the Council." The apprentice paused for a moment before adding, just in case Qui-Gon had forgotten about it again: "They will not go along with you this time."
Qui-Gon heaved a sigh. Ah, the delusions of youth, he thought. Sometimes, he wished for an apprentice who was just a bit more unconventional and a bit more like himself. Then again, the Jedi Master couldn't help but realize that he would be constantly at odds with someone who had a similar tendency to do what he pleased and defy everything and everyone if he felt like it.
Still, Qui-Gon thought that it wouldn't hurt if his independent streak rubbed of at least a bit.
"You still have much to learn, my young apprentice," he said, giving Obi-Wan's shoulder a squeeze. What the gesture was supposed to mean was beyond Obi-Wan, though, but he decided to take it as a gesture of reassurance and maybe affection and as a promise that Qui-Gon would be there to teach him all he still had to learn, ignoring the bad feeling that once again told him that this would be not the case.
oOo
Edited on 4th May, 2010
Edited on 13th February, 2011