Back to Naboo

Coruscant was a world of lights and shadows, soaring spires and politics wrapped in civility. But behind the pageantry of the Senate and the towering majesty of the Jedi Temple, it was a world of quiet war, the kind that rarely made noise until it was far too late.

The Senate dome loomed vast and glittering above the heart of Coruscant as the day wore on, sunlight fading into the glow of the city's endless skyline. Within a private chamber draped in deep reds and carved stone reliefs of past Chancellors, Padmé stood before Senator Palpatine, the weight of recent events heavy on her shoulders.

She looked tired but resolute, her dark hair now unadorned, her regal robes traded for a simpler maroon travel gown. Yet even stripped of ornament, Padmé Amidala radiated a quiet authority, her youth sharpened by recent trials.

"The Senate has decided to proceed with a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum," Palpatine said, his voice calm and measured. "It was not easy, but the allegations of inaction and manipulation were too grave. He will step down."

Palpatine stood across from her, clasping his hands lightly in front of him. His manner was calm, almost fatherly, but behind his eyes was that gleam again, soft, elusive, and unreadable.

Padmé blinked slowly. Her mind churned through the implications. "And what of Naboo? Will the Senate act now?"

Palpatine sighed, turning to look out through the tall arched window behind him, where the streams of traffic glittered like stars.

"They might, eventually… A new, stronger Chancellor must be elected before decisive intervention can be authorized. That will take days, if we're lucky. Perhaps longer."

"Days?" Her composure cracked. "My people are dying now. Every day that passes, the Federation tightens its grip. What will be left of Naboo by the time the Senate finishes its process?"

Padmé stepped forward. "My people do not have days. If I wait, Naboo may be lost entirely."

Palpatine turned back to face her, his voice measured. "I understand your pain, Your Highness. I share it. But if you return now, without the Senate's formal backing, you risk everything. The Federation will retaliate. They will not let your resistance go unanswered."

Her jaw tightened, but her eyes stayed on his. "Then I will be with them when it happens. I will not rule from afar while my people suffer in my name. I will stand with them, fight for them if I must."

Palpatine spread his hands, gently. "Your Highness, I urge you to be cautious. To return without military support would be dangerous. The Trade Federation is desperate to secure legitimacy for its actions. If you are captured or killed—"

"Then I will have died doing my duty," she cut in. "Unlike so many others here."

The silence that followed was palpable. Palpatine's expression didn't shift, but something in his eyes cooled.

A shadow passed over Palpatine's expression, subtle and brief. "You're braver than most senators I've known. But it's foolish to think bravely alone can repel an army."

Padmé drew a slow breath. "Yes it is, but as long as we don't lose hope, then it might. And I will not be alone, the Jedi have pledged to help. Master Jinn and Master Kenobi will accompany us."

Palpatine raised a brow. "The Jedi will only protect you, Your Highness, they will not fight a war."

Not fazed by the Senator's statement, she continued, "I trust that hope works through those who serve it. And I believe the people of Naboo will rise when they see we have not been abandoned. I'm not returning to die, Senator. I'm returning to save my people."

"You are brave," he said finally, with a nod. "Braver than many, but remember, even queens are mortal. And the fate of Naboo may hinge not just on courage, but on timing. I urge you to wait."

Padmé turned toward the door. "And I urge you to act faster."

She swept past him, the long hem of her gown whispering across the floor. Palpatine hesitated, watching her walk away. 

Palpatine's smile was slow, almost fond, but distant, as if his thoughts were already elsewhere. "Then I wish you luck, Your Highness. And should you survive this, and I believe you will, we will speak again."

Padmé turned back and dipped her head with formality, her gaze still hard. "Goodbye, Senator."

She turned and strode from the chamber, the sound of her boots echoing in the marble halls. Palpatine remained where he stood, hands still calmly folded, watching her disappear.

His reflection shimmered in the window as he murmured to himself, almost inaudibly.

"You are more stubborn than I expected. Perhaps too stubborn."

The Jedi Temple was quiet in the late afternoon, its great halls filled with hushed voices and the soft hum of distant training sabers. High above the city, within the Council Chamber, Anakin stood at the center of the circular room surrounded by the most powerful Jedi Masters in the galaxy.

He felt their gazes like cold light upon him, curious, intense, measuring. Mace Windu, stoic and sharp, his presence like a blade. Ki-Adi-Mundi with his arched brow of skepticism. Plo Koon's hidden expression was unreadable beneath his mask. Yoda, ancient and still, his eyes bottomless, and weary. Almost like they can pierce into time itself.

Anakin stood still, hands at his sides, spine straight, but inside his mind flickered with thought after thought. He was being watched not by mere teachers, but by astute Force users, wise mentors, and guardians of peace. They would see through him, especially Yoda and Windu. He couldn't hide the depth of what he was. He wasn't even sure if he could or… if he should.

But he had to try.

He breathed in slowly, calming the heat that stirred in his chest. The Force settled over him like a shroud, cloaking his presence. It reminded him, bitterly, of how Sidious had hidden himself for so long. Anakin did not wish to become like him, but he had learned the value of patience. Of masks.

What he truly wanted had little to do with the Jedi Council or even the Jedi Order. He did not crave or value their approval, not anymore. He already knew their path was flawed and flooded with countless restrictions.

What he sought, above all, was to learn from Master Qui-Gon. A Jedi who listened not to texts or rigid codes, but to the living Force itself.

"Your mind, young Skywalker," Yoda said, leaning forward. "We will test. Focus on the present. Let go your fear."

Anakin met the ancient Master's eyes and bowed his head. "Yes, Master Yoda."

The testing began.

The tests were varied, one involved levitating a series of orbs in sequence while simultaneously identifying images presented through the Force.

They tested his precognition as they let a training bot fire at him and dodged without looking, while also catching a falling ball before it slipped off the platform. Mace's brow furrowed.

"He reacts too fast," Mace Windu said at one point, watching a flicker of Anakin's hand in response to the threat while simultaneously catching the ball. "Almost as if he sees the future."

"Strong in the Force, this boy is," Yoda agreed. "Much fear I sense in him. Fear... and something more."

Anakin tensed, though he did not show it. They could sense too much, He had trained to mask his deeper emotions, but even so, the scars of his past, his original life, echoed in ways he couldn't entirely erase.

Yoda gave a small hum. "Hiding, he is. Not only his emotions... but strength."

When they tested his instincts, Anakin responded quickly but not too quickly, with calculated answers. When they challenged his emotional control, he centered himself, breathing slowly, remembering not just Jedi teachings but the hard-earned balance he had begun to reclaim in this second life.

But they were not easily convinced.

Anakin felt a chill. They could see it, part of it. The raw, immense power just beneath the surface. He had cloaked it, held it back, smoothed the edges of his presence like smoke through cracks in stone.

And yet, despite all their insight, they could not see the full truth. They sensed the cloud, but not the storm.

The room then shifted as they moved to another test. He now stood amid a battlefield littered with clones and Jedi alike. A disembodied voice posed a choice:

"Save the village... or stop the enemy general before he escapes. Innocents, or victory?"

He chose the village. 

He answered calmly, and with empathy when it counted. With strength when it was needed. Each time, his mind moved swiftly, not just reacting, but calculating outcomes several steps ahead.

As the holograms danced around him, they began to replicate memories and simulate threats. 

But what came next was truly striking and unexpected.

He was confronted with unseen illusions of his mother in danger, fear of Padmé, of Luke and Leia burning. 

A flickering projection sprang to life beside him in his mind, a smoky vision of a burning homestead under twin suns. His mother, hunched and bound, reached for him through the flames.

"Ani!..." she cried out, voice broken. "Why didn't you come for me?"

He stepped toward her on instinct, the room melting into sand and blood, but the illusion blinked away before he could speak. 

Another test.

Then came the image of Padmé, dressed in regal white, her eyes full of betrayal. Her voice trembled, holographic tears on her cheeks.

"I don't know you anymore... Anakin... you're breaking my heart… you're going down a path I can't follow!"

"Stop now...Come back..."

"I love you..."

"...LIAR!"

The words were like stabbing daggers, ones he'd heard and dreaded before. He clenched his fists, steadying his breath.

Not real. Not now.

The scene dissolved, only to be replaced by another horror. Luke and Leia…newborns he hadn't even known in his first life…screaming inside a crumbling structure, wreathed in red flame. 

Their faces twisted in pain as they reached out for a father they had never met.

The Council shifted to more simulations. 

Crying children on the verge of death.

A bloody, devastating battlefield. 

More impossible questions follow.

He didn't move this time. He let the horrors pass through him, like wind through ash. His mind stayed quiet, focused.

These illusions were vastly different. They weren't based like the ones in the past, not the ones the Jedi knew. They were shaped by his memories. 

Of futures yet to happen. 

Of choices already made and regretted.

Of loss and war and the smell of burning metal and flesh. 

He recognized these images too well.

He remembers Mustafar, Padmé dying in his arms, kneeling before Sidious.

He understood these tests now.

These were not just illusions, these were truths, his truths. A pure reflection of his soul. Projections of what the Council feared, and what he feared they would see.

They have no right to see this… They have no right to inflict these memories on him…

They have no right!

And he has had enough!

Anakin's eyes narrowed. The air around him shimmered.

Then, suddenly, the Force surged.

He raised his hand, and the illusions shattered.

The holograms crackled and collapsed in a storm of fractured light, vanishing into the floor. A gust of raw energy swirled from him, rattling the floor tiles and making several of the Masters lean back in alarm. Even Windu stepped forward, hand instinctively near his saber.

Yoda's eyes widened, and for a heartbeat, the entire chamber was silent.

Anakin stood at the center, steadying his breathing, the Force swirling around him like a living storm.

"You have no right to look inside me like this. No right to tear through my memories just to see if I fit your mold."

"Please, no more visions," he said. "You want to know who I am? Ask. But don't keep throwing illusions at me. I'm not some puzzle for you to solve."

The silence held. Even Yoda did not speak.

They had seen a glimpse of what was buried beneath his restraint, not just strength, but will. A choice to act, not simply obey.

When the moment passed, the Council composed itself, but the unease remained.

The testing ended, and Anakin stepped out of the room. The Council fell into a long, heated, and quiet exchange.

Then the doors opened. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan entered.

Qui-Gon stepped forward, hands clasped. "Surely you see his potential. You saw how he subdued his fear. His connection to the Force is unlike anything I've seen."

"The boy has extraordinary power and shows control beyond his years. Both emotionally and mentally," Mace Windu began. "There is no doubt, but he is not open. He guards his mind as if from attack."

"His control is advanced, too advanced for one his age."

"And yet," Ki-Adi-Mundi said, "we sense… something. A potential too vast. Too unpredictable."

"Uncertainty, the future holds," Yoda added softly. "Fearless he seems, and yet… fear hides deep, beneath the surface."

Qui-Gon's mouth tightened.

"You speak as if his power is a flaw. It is a gift."

"A gift… that could become a storm," Mace said. "And storms destroy more than they illuminate."

"Too old to begin the training, he is," Yoda echoed. "Too much life already shaped him."

 "And clouded, his future remains."

Qui-Gon stepped forward, steady and resolute. "And yet he resists anger. He remains composed. He feels deeply that's true, but he does not lash out."

"What more would you ask of a boy who has seen slavery, death, and fear?"

Ki-Adi-Mundi frowned. "That may be so. But there is something veiled in him. His future is unreadable, and that concerns me."

Yoda's ears drooped slightly. "Much uncertainty surrounds this boy. A threat he may be. Or a great ally. Cannot tell."

"And that is what troubles us," Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "It is not only the strength of his power, but how rapidly he adapts. He is... unreadable."

"Then guide him so that his unreadable nature serves the light," Qui-Gon said firmly. "Help him find clarity. Don't turn him away because he is different."

"Because you fear what you cannot predict."

"Exactly," Mace said. "And what we cannot predict... we cannot trust."

Yoda sighed deeply. "A choice this is. Not lightly made. Dangerous, his path may be."

Windu's voice was final. "He will not be trained."

A silence hung heavy in the chamber.

Master Windu's tone softened. "We do not say this lightly. But our doubts remain. For now, he must walk another path."

Qui-Gon's shoulders were tense. "Then I will train him myself."

"That is not the Jedi way," Ki-Adi-Mundi warned.

But before the argument could deepen, a transmission interrupted the meeting. A hologram shimmered into view, Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan.

"The Queen of Naboo is departing," Bail said. "Her ship is being prepped for immediate departure. She refuses to wait for Senate authorization. Intelligence suggests the Trade Federation is preparing for a full-scale occupation."

Mace turned to Qui-Gon. "We must put this matter on hold and ask that you escort her. Naboo is now a flashpoint. The Federation may attempt to capture or assassinate her."

Yoda nodded gravely. "Agree, we do. Dangerous the situation has become. And..." he paused, "an opportunity to learn more about the Sith, it may be. Mysterious, this attacker on Tatooine was. Not alone, he is."

Plo Koon's filtered voice added, "If he appears again, bring him to us. Alive, if possible."

Qui-Gon reluctantly bowed. "As the Council wills."

"Dangerous, this mission may be. Protect her, you must. Until the truth is known."

They turned to leave. Obi-Wan's glance toward Anakin was unreadable, half doubt, half wonder. As they stepped into the corridor, Anakin walked in silence.

Qui-Gon placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "The Council does not always see clearly, Anakin. They fear what they don't understand. But I see you."

Anakin looked up. "And what if they're right? What if I am dangerous?"

"You are," Qui-Gon said without hesitation and a slight smile. "But so is every flame before it's tempered."

"The question is not if, but to whom. The galaxy is full of people who fear what is different. But the Force doesn't fear you. It calls to you."

Anakin nodded slowly. "I don't need the Order."

"No," Qui-Gon said, his smile faint. "You need the truth. And that, we will seek together."

They walked toward the ship, toward Naboo, toward the dark horizon of things yet to come. But Anakin's steps were steady. The future was clouded, yes, but he would walk through it with eyes wide open.

The journey to Naboo has begun.