When he got to the main room, he found to his relief that he wasn’t the only one who’d thought of sleeping there. Jar Jar was stretched out in a chair, head back, murmuring quietly in his sleep. Artoo-Detoo rested in standby mode next to the wall. Anakin found a corner and sat down.
It was still too cold. No matter how tightly he curled, he didn’t feel warm. This is too different, he thought miserably. Qui-Gon and Padmé were too busy to talk, and no one else on board cared about him. Well, maybe Jar Jar and Artoo-Detoo. I shouldn’t have come. I should have stayed with Mom. I want to go home!
A soft sound in the passageway caught his attention. A moment later, Padmé entered the room. She looked tired, and the sadness on her face made Anakin feel even worse than he already did. He shrank back into the corner, hoping she wouldn’t see him.
At first, she didn’t. She crossed to one of the monitors and switched on a crackly recording of a hologram message. The sound was too low for Anakin to hear clearly, but whatever it was saying made Padmé look sadder than ever. He clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering.
Suddenly, Padmé looked up and saw him. She came over and looked at him with concern. “Are you all right?”
“It’s very cold,” Anakin admitted, trying to control his shivering.
Padmé tsked and stripped off her red silk overjacket. “You’re from a warm planet, Annie,” she said as she tucked it around him. “Too warm for my taste. But space is cold.”
Encouraged by her kindness, Anakin said, “You seem sad.”
“The Queen is worried,” Padmé said softly. “Her people are suffering…dying. She must convince the Senate to intervene, or…” She shook her head. “I’m not sure what will happen.”
How can I help with that? Anakin thought. I don’t know anything about queens. I guess I’ll have to learn. Suddenly, he felt very lonely. Padmé was the Queen’s handmaiden, part of a whole world he knew nothing about. When they reached Coruscant, she would go with the Queen, and he would go…wherever people went to be trained as Jedi. But Qui-Gon had said the Council might not accept him. If they didn’t—
“I’m—I’m not sure what’s going to happen to me,” Anakin said in a low voice. “I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.” He squirmed to get a hand into his pocket, and pulled out the pendant he had been working on. “I made this for you,” he said, not daring to look directly at Padmé. “So you’d remember me. I carved it out of a japor snippet.” He held it out to her. “It will bring you good fortune.”
Padmé took it. After a moment, she said, “It’s beautiful, but I don’t need this to remember you.” Anakin looked up, and she smiled at him. As she hung the pendant around her neck, her expression changed. “Many things will change when we reach the capital, Annie,” she said soberly. “But my caring for you will always remain.”
“I care for you, too,” Anakin told her. “Only—only I miss—” He stopped, blinking back tears.
“You miss your mother.” Padmé’s voice was soft and gentle and understanding. She leaned forward and gave Anakin a hug. Gratefully, Anakin leaned against her shoulder. It wasn’t the same as his mother hugging him, but it was a great comfort. And it was all he had now.
Coruscant resembled a giant pincushion, with its enormous buildings sticking out in all directions like hundreds of needles. Over the centuries, the planet had become a single, giant, multilevel city. The air taxis that ferried citizens from skyscraper to skyscraper made it possible for some people to live their whole lives without ever actually setting foot on the ground. Like the buildings, the taxis were enormous; some of them were as large as cruisers and could hold hundreds of passengers.
Given a choice, Obi-Wan preferred the open spaces of a planet like Tatooine. But Coruscant was the capital of the Galactic Republic, and the home of the Jedi Temple. And we’re lucky we made it back, he thought as Ric Olié landed the spaceship.
Supreme Chancellor Valorum, current leader of the Republic Senate, was waiting for the Queen on the landing platform. With him was Senator Palpatine, the Naboo representative. The Chancellor was a thin, white-haired man with an air of nervous tension. In contrast, Palpatine stood calm and smiling in his blue Senatorial robes.
Palpatine greeted Queen Amidala smoothly, and presented the Chancellor. “Welcome, Your Highness,” Valorum said. “It is an honor to finally meet you in person. I must tell you how distressed everyone is over the current situation. I’ve called a special session of the Senate to hear your position.”
“I am grateful for your concern, Chancellor,” Amidala said, inclining her head gracefully.
Courtesies over, Palpatine motioned Amidala and her guards and handmaidens toward an air taxi at the far end of the platform. As they started off, Obi-Wan heard him say something about procedures. He shook his head ruefully. She’s barely arrived, and he’s already talking politics. Well, I suppose that’s why she came.
Then, to Obi-Wan’s surprise, the Queen waved at Anakin and Jar Jar to join her. He was about to stop them, when he saw Qui-Gon nod to Anakin. He arranged this with her before we landed, Obi-Wan realized.
As the air taxi pulled away, Qui-Gon turned to the Supreme Chancellor. “I must speak with the Jedi Council immediately, Your Honor,” he said. “The situation has become…more complicated.”
And that’s why he didn’t want Jar Jar and Anakin with us. Obi-Wan looked at his Master and frowned. Qui-Gon was worried about something, deeply worried. Something more than the attack in the desert. Obi-Wan could sense it. What has he not told me?
It is good to be Queen Amidala again, thought Amidala, but it was also hard. She had not realized how much the responsibility weighed on her mind until she had let go of a tiny fraction of it to become Padmé. Now she knew—but she was still the elected Queen of Naboo, and her people were depending on her. Why else did I come to Coruscant? She had taken back her proper role as the ship entered Coruscant’s atmosphere; now she sat with Senator Palpatine, planning their presentation to the Galactic Senate.
Senator Palpatine had put more than half his living quarters at his Queen’s disposal. The rooms were as lavish as the royal palace on Naboo—and a great relief after the cramped quarters on the Royal Starship. Too much of a relief, perhaps; Amidala found it difficult to concentrate on what Palpatine was telling her.
“The Republic is not what it once was,” Palpatine said as he paced the floor before her. “There is no interest in the common good—no civility, only politics. It’s disgusting.” He paused and said in a heavy tone, “I must be frank, Your Majesty. There is little chance the Senate will act on the invasion.”
Amidala frowned, startled. “Chancellor Valorum seems to think there is hope.”
“If I may say so, Your Majesty, the Chancellor has little real power,” Palpatine said. “The bureaucrats are in charge now.”
If that is true, then this whole trip has been wasted effort. Amidala pressed her lips together. I will not let it be wasted.
“What options do we have?” she asked.
“Our best choice would be to push for the election of a stronger Supreme Chancellor,” Palpatine said. “You could call for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum.”
“But he has been our strongest supporter.” To force him out of office would feel like betraying him. She couldn’t do it…but to save her people? Her planet? “Is there any other way?”
“We could submit a plea to the courts.”
“There’s no time for that,” Amidala said. The courts took even longer to decide things than the Senate. Remembering Governor Bibble’s message, she went on, “Our people are dying, Senator. We must do something quickly to stop the Federation.”
Palpatine shook his head. “To be realistic, Your Highness, I’d say we are going to have to accept Federation control. For the time being.”
Amidala stared at him. How could he speak of it so calmly? Perhaps he had been on Coruscant too long; perhaps he had forgotten too much about the ordinary people
he represented in the Senate. “That is something I cannot do,” she told him. I will find a way to stop this invasion. Even if I have to face down every bureaucrat on Coruscant to do it.
The Jedi Council chambers were located at the peak of the Jedi Temple, just below its crowning spire. The glass walls of the circular room looked out over Coruscant in all directions, interrupted only by the great pillars that supported the spire above. Qui-Gon had been there often over the years, to report on his various missions. Now he and Obi-Wan stood once more before the Jedi Council—twelve Jedi from different planets and different species who guided the whole Jedi order. This time, Qui-Gon’s report to them was different. He touched only briefly on the events on Naboo and the Podrace, but he described the fight on the Tatooine dunes in great detail. Then he finished, “My only conclusion can be that it was a Sith Lord.”
There was an instant silence. Qui-Gon could feel the Council’s shocked surprise. Then Mace Windu, a senior Jedi on the Council, leaned forward, his dark face grim. “A Sith Lord?”
“Impossible!” said Ki-Adi-Mundi, raising his bushy eyebrows almost to his skull ridge. “The Sith have been extinct for a millennium.”
On the other side of Mace Windu, Master Yoda’s long ears twitched. “The very Republic is threatened, if involved the Sith are.”
“I do not believe they could have returned without us knowing,” Mace said.
“Hard to see, the dark side is,” Yoda responded. Around the Council circle, heads nodded. “Discover who this assassin is, we must.”
“I sense he will reveal himself again,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said slowly.
“This attack was with purpose, that is clear,” Mace Windu said. “And I agree that the Queen is his target.”
Yoda turned toward Qui-Gon. “With this Naboo Queen you must stay, Qui-Gon. Protect her.”
“We will use all our resources here to unravel this mystery and discover the identity of your attacker,” Mace added. “May the Force be with you.”
The other Jedi Councilors echoed him, plainly expecting Qui-Gon to leave. Qui-Gon stayed where he was. After a moment, Yoda said in a dry tone, “Master Qui-Gon, more to say have you?”
“With your permission, my Master,” Qui-Gon said respectfully. Yoda nodded, and Qui-Gon continued, “I have encountered a vergence in the Force.”
The Council stirred. Yoda eyed Qui-Gon narrowly. “A vergence, you say?”
“Located around a person?” Mace Windu asked.
Qui-Gon nodded. “A boy. His cells have the highest concentration of midi-chlorians I have seen in a life-form. It is possible that he was conceived by the midi-chlorians.”
Mace Windu sat back. “You refer to the prophecy of the one who will bring balance back to the Force.” He gave Qui-Gon a long, skeptical look. “You believe it’s this…boy?”
“I don’t presume—” Qui-Gon began.
“But you do!” Yoda broke in. “Revealed, your opinion is.”
“I request the boy be tested,” Qui-Gon said stiffly. Whatever they thought of his opinions, he had the right to request that much.
The Council members exchanged looks. Then Yoda said, “Trained as a Jedi, you request for him?”
“Finding him was the will of the Force,” Qui-Gon replied firmly. “I have no doubt of that. There is too much happening here.…”
“Bring him before us, then,” Mace said.
“Tested, he will be,” Yoda added in an ominous tone.
Qui-Gon nodded. Bowing, he turned and left the Council chamber.
The Galactic Senate chambers reminded Amidala just a little of the Tatooine Podracing arena. But instead of a semicircle of viewing stands, ranks of floating platforms hugged the curving walls of the Senate chambers. Each carried representatives and their aides from one of the member planets or organizations; most displayed the symbols or banners of their homeworlds. Sternly, Amidala repressed the urge to gawk. She wasn’t here to stare at the Senators, but to persuade them to help Naboo.
Beside her, Senator Palpatine urged her yet again to force a change in the Senate leadership. He knows more of Coruscant than I do, Amidala thought. But Chancellor Valorum has done so much for us.…Surely it won’t be necessary to force him out of his position.
From the central pillar, the Chancellor announced that Naboo would address the Senate. The Naboo platform dipped smoothly to take up a position next to the Chancellor’s pillar. Amidala’s stomach lurched. She was eager to speak.
Senator Palpatine stood and described the history of the dispute between Naboo and the Trade Federation. The Senators from the Trade Federation tried to interrupt, but the Chancellor quashed them. Palpatine finished his remarks and said, “I present Queen Amidala of Naboo, to speak on our behalf.”
As Amidala rose to address the Senate, she heard a smattering of applause. “Honorable representatives of the Republic,” she began, “I come to you under the gravest of circumstances. The Naboo system has been invaded by force. Invaded—against all the laws of the Republic—by the droid armies of the Trade Fed—”
“I object!” the Trade Federation delegate interrupted loudly. “There is no proof.”
Proof? I was there! Amidala thought. She opened her mouth to reply, but the Trade Federation Senator went on, “We recommend a commission be sent to Naboo to ascertain the truth.”
A commission? My people are dying! Surely, the Chancellor won’t take this proposal seriously! But other delegates were speaking in favor of the delay, and talking about procedures. And Chancellor Valorum was listening. Was Palpatine right, after all? If Valorum does not support us…
At last the Chancellor turned back to the assembly. “The point is conceded,” he said heavily. “Queen Amidala of Naboo, will you defer your motion in order to allow a commission to explore the truth of your accusations?”
They didn’t even let me finish speaking! “I will not defer,” Amidala said angrily. “I have come before you to resolve this attack on our sovereignty now.” She took a deep breath. “I move for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum’s leadership.”
“What?” Valorum said, horrified. “No!”
Around the hall, the delegates murmured in surprise, then began to cheer. In a few moments, the motion had been seconded. The Trade Federation tried to send this motion, too, to a committee, but the rest of the Senate would not cooperate. In unison, the delegates began chanting, “Vote now! Vote now!”
Palpatine leaned toward Amidala. “You see, Your Majesty? The time is with us. Valorum will be voted out, and they will elect a new Chancellor, a strong Chancellor, one who will not let our tragedy continue.”
Amidala stared at him. He sounded so certain and so…complacent. As if it did not matter that she had been forced to bring down one of Naboo’s oldest and strongest supporters. Almost as if he were pleased about it.
The vote was set to begin the following day. As the final arrangements were made, Valorum turned toward the Naboo box. “Palpatine, I thought you were my ally—my friend,” he said. “How could you do this?”
Palpatine bowed his head almost sadly, but Amidala thought she saw the ghost of a smile cross his face. He’s only pleased because we now have a chance to make the Senate stop the invasion, she reassured herself. And we didn’t have any other choice. I couldn’t let them spend months studying the situation while my people die. I had to call for the vote. But looking at former Chancellor Valorum, she knew his expression of betrayal would haunt her dreams for a long, long time.
The setting sun washed the balcony outside the Jedi Council chambers with soft color, and tinted the forest of buildings below to match. The view of Coruscant was unequalled. But, Obi-Wan noticed, Qui-Gon was not watching the view. His eyes kept straying toward the Council chambers, where Anakin Skywalker was being tested by the Jedi Council. Obi-Wan sighed.
“The boy will not pass the Council’s tests, Master, and you know it,” he said. “He is far too old.”
“Anakin will become a Jedi,” Qui-Gon s
aid with renewed calm. “I promise you.”
Did his confidence come from one of the rare glimpses of the future that sometimes came to Jedi Masters? Or did Qui-Gon plan to train Anakin whether the Council approved or not? Obi-Wan frowned. “Don’t defy the Council, Master,” he said, half-warning, half-pleading. “Not again.”
“I will do what I must.”
He is planning to defy them, Obi-Wan thought with a sinking feeling. “Master, you could be sitting on the Council by now—if you would just follow the Code.”
Qui-Gon said nothing. Obi-Wan sighed again. Qui-Gon can be so stubborn.… “They will not go along with you this time,” he warned. And I don’t want to have to watch what will happen then.
Much to Obi-Wan’s surprise, Qui-Gon smiled. “You still have much to learn, my young apprentice,” he said quietly.
Uneasily, Obi-Wan turned back toward the city.
The Jedi tests were nothing like what Anakin had expected. Not that he’d actually thought much about what they would be like. Maybe they’re just confusing because I’m older, he thought. The Jedi Master named Mace Windu had a view screen in front of him, which Anakin couldn’t see. As images flashed on the screen, Anakin had to see if he could sense what they were. It was an exhausting challenge—Anakin had no idea how he was doing. Finally, the screen clicked off, and he relaxed a little.
“Good, good, young one,” said Master Yoda. “How feel you?”
“Cold, sir,” Anakin replied without thinking. He had been cold ever since he left Tatooine, it seemed.
“Afraid, are you?” Master Yoda said.
“No, sir,” Anakin said, startled. That wasn’t the kind of cold he’d been thinking of at all.
Beside Master Yoda, Mace Windu stirred. “Afraid to give up your life?”
Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace Page 8
