Suddenly, two destroyer droids appeared on either side of the throne room door. Amidala turned and saw two more at the opposite end of the hall. They were trapped. Battle droids we can fight, but these—our weapons will get through their shields eventually, but by then, they’ll have shot most of us. Amidala dropped her laser pistol. “Throw down your weapons,” she said to Captain Panaka. “They win this round.”
“But we can’t—”
“Captain, I said throw down your weapons.” Amidala stared at him until he and his troops dropped their pistols. The destroyer droids moved forward to escort them into the throne room.
The wheel droids rolled through the Gungan army’s energy shield, reshaped themselves into their battle configuration, and began blasting. One of them hit a shield generator. The generator exploded, killing the fambaa that had been carrying it, along with several Gungans.
Uh-oh, Jar Jar thought, looking up. The protective shield wavered and began to fall apart.
“Retreat!” shouted General Ceel.
Jar Jar was only too happy to comply. With the rest of the Gungans, he turned and ran. Glancing back, he saw tanks moving up behind the destroyer droids. The Trade Federation droid general had lost no time in taking advantage of the weakened shield. In another moment, the tanks were in among the Gungans, firing steadily.
One of the explosions lifted Jar Jar off the kaadu he was riding. He shrieked as he flew through the air…and landed on top of one of the tanks. The tank swung its gun around, trying to knock Jar Jar off, but he clung to the barrel. At least thisen not shooting Gungans righty now, he thought. Oie boie, what mesa thinking? Mesa getting killed here!
A Gungan warrior rode his kaadu up beside the tank and signaled. Gratefully, Jar Jar jumped down behind him. Maybe mesa not dying yet, hey? Another tank shot exploded close by, and Jar Jar flinched. But there were explosions everywhere now.
That Queen saying her pilots stopping the droids, Jar Jar thought. Mesa hoping they hurry. Or wesa losing bombad.
The starfighter, with Anakin inside, continued to rise. Artoo beeped worriedly.
“The autopilot is what?” Anakin replied. He studied the controls. “There is no manual override, Artoo! You’ll have to rewire it or something.”
Artoo beeped that he was trying. Anakin looked up. Ahead, he could see the sharp golden Naboo starfighters buzzing like wasps around a large, circular battleship. That must be the Trade Federation’s Droid Control Ship. Clouds of droid starfighters had emerged from the Trade Federation ship and were attacking the Naboo craft. And the autopilot was taking them straight into the battle.
“Artoo!” Anakin screamed. “Get us off autopilot!”
Artoo screeched an answer. Hoping it was positive, Anakin flipped a switch and tried the controls. This time, the ship responded. “Yes! I’ve got control. You did it, Artoo!” Frantically, he pulled on the controls, dodging shots and enemy fighters. As long as I’m up here, maybe I can get one of them. That’d be something to tell Pad—Queen Amidala!
But figuring out the strange controls in the middle of a battle was not easy. As much by luck as skill, Anakin dodged and ducked and avoided the Trade Federation droid ships. Or maybe the Force is with me—maybe that’s…whoops! A shot whizzed by, narrowly missing him. Artoo shrieked.
“I know this isn’t Podracing, Artoo!” Anakin said, just as another shot connected with his ship, sending it into a spin. Anakin struggled to regain control as the ship headed straight for the Trade Federation space station.
Desperately, he hauled on the steering. The ship responded sluggishly. I’m going to smash into the Droid Control Ship! Wait—there’s an opening. Anakin aimed for it, trying to kill his momentum. It wouldn’t do any good to dodge into the opening if he smashed into a wall on the inside.
The opening was some sort of ship hangar. Anakin had to dodge droids and transports. At last he found the right switch, and the reverse thrusters fired. The crippled starfighter skidded to a stop just short of the rear wall. Anakin heaved a sigh of relief and bent to examine the control panel. “Everything’s overheated, Artoo. All the lights are red.”
Artoo’s answering beep sounded frantic. Cautiously, Anakin peered over the edge of the cockpit. Battle droids! Lots of battle droids. This is not good. He ducked back down, wondering how long it would take Artoo to fix the ship.
The deadly laser walls cycled off, and Obi-Wan sprinted down the hall. Ahead, he could see Qui-Gon, already battling the Sith Lord. The two fighters circled the melting pit, aiming terrible blows at each other. I will make it in time.…
Something flickered at the edge of his vision; the laser walls behind him were closing. Obi-Wan flung himself forward—but not quite far enough. The last laser wall flickered into being just in front of him, so close that he nearly ran straight into the deadly rays. No! he thought, but it was too late. He was trapped again, just short of the battle, unable to help Qui-Gon.
Obi-Wan stared through the laser wall. For just an instant, Qui-Gon’s opponent seemed to be wearing a black helmet, and Obi-Wan felt a cold chill. This is wrong, this is all wrong. I’m supposed to be the one fighting the Dark Lord. Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to clear it. The Sith Lord wasn’t wearing a helmet; it was only the light of the laser walls on the black of his tattoo. And Qui-Gon was fighting more fiercely than Obi-Wan had ever seen him fight before. Yet the feeling persisted: That should be me out there, not Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan shook his head again. Won’t these laser walls ever come down again?
Qui-Gon blocked one awful stroke and parried another, then struck back. The Sith Lord blocked—and then slammed the wide handle of his lightsaber into Qui-Gon’s chin. Qui-Gon staggered backward, half-dazed from the force of the unexpected blow. The Sith Lord grinned in triumph. Reversing his lightsaber, he struck Qui-Gon through.
Qui-Gon crumpled to the floor.
“NO!” Obi-Wan screamed. The sound echoed strangely, almost as if some other voice had joined his in crying out the same desperate denial. But the laser wall was down at last, and Obi-Wan had no more time for thinking. He leaped forward to face the Sith Lord.
Alone.
The Neimoidian viceroy was waiting inside the throne room with more battle droids. Amidala looked at him with dislike, and he smiled.
“Your little insurrection is at an end, Your Highness,” he said smugly. “Time for you to sign the treaty—”
The door opened again. Sabé appeared, dressed in a uniform identical to Amidala’s and wearing royal makeup. Behind her, Amidala could see the ruins of several destroyer droids, and she felt a surge of new hope.
The Neimoidian looked uncertainly from Amidala to her double. Sabé called, “I will not be signing any treaty, Viceroy! You’ve lost!” Turning, she vanished down the hall.
“After her!” the viceroy shouted. “This one’s a decoy!”
As most of the droids rushed out of the room, Amidala crossed slowly to her throne. The viceroy turned back to her. “Your Queen will not get away with this!” he said.
Amidala sank down on the throne as if overcome…and pressed the security button. The hidden panel in her desk slid open—and the laser pistols were still inside! She tossed two to Captain Panaka and another officer, then snatched a third for herself and blasted the last of the battle droids.
One of her officers ran toward the open door—no, toward the door control panel. Good idea. Amidala hit the switch on her desk that closed the door, and the officer jammed the controls. For the moment, they were safe. “Viceroy, this is the end of your occupation,” she said fiercely.
“Don’t be absurd,” the viceroy said, though he was plainly frightened. “There are too few of you. It won’t be long before hundreds of destroyer droids break in here to rescue us.”
Not if my pilots blow up your Control Ship, Amidala thought. But they hadn’t succeeded yet, or the destroyer droids wouldn’t be active. What’s keeping them?
The lights on Anakin’s control panel were still red. “The system’s still
overheated, Artoo,” he said softly, hoping the astromech droid would hear…and the battle droids surrounding his starfighter wouldn’t.
“Where’s your pilot?” a mechanical voice outside the ship demanded.
They haven’t seen me! Anakin thought as Artoo whistled a reply.
“You’re the pilot?” the battle droid said skeptically. “Let me see your identification!”
The lights on the control panel blinked green. “Yes!” Anakin cried, and started the engine.
“You!” the battle droid called. “Come out of there or we’ll blast you!”
“Not if I can help it!” Anakin retorted, flipping the switch to raise his shields.
More battle droids were arriving through the open door at the end of the hangar. This should stop them! Anakin fired, first his lasers, then the ship’s torpedoes. The lasers hit, but the torpedoes flew over the heads of the droids and through the wide-open doors behind them.
“Darn it, I missed,” Anakin muttered. A moment later, he heard an explosion as the torpedoes went off somewhere inside the Droid Control Ship. Through the doors, he caught a glimpse of a large, unidentifiable object beginning to come apart. At least I did some damage! “Come on, Artoo. Let’s get out of here!”
Swinging the ship around, Anakin gunned the engines. The starfighter roared through the hangar and back out into space, just ahead of a sheet of flame. “Now, this is Podracing!” Anakin shouted. “Whoopee!”
Behind him, the Droid Control Ship began to shake. Fire burst from its ports and windows as it slowly exploded from the inside out. Anakin grinned. I wish Padmé had seen that!
Trade Federation battle droids had rounded up the Gungan army. The officers were the first to be captured. “Disa bad,” Jar Jar said to General Ceel as they watched. “Berry bombad.”
“Mesa hopen dissa working for da Queen,” the general replied.
Abruptly, all of the droids paused. Some began to shake. Others ran in circles. A few of the flying machines crashed. Then, suddenly, they all stopped moving completely.
The Gungans stared in frozen surprise. When the droids stayed motionless, the Gungans came slowly forward. Jar Jar pushed one of the battle droids. Like a wobbly statue, it fell over.
“Weirding,” Jar Jar said. The Queen be keeping her promise, he thought. Looks like wesa winning after all.
The Sith Lord attacked Obi-Wan relentlessly, backing him around the melting pit. All Obi-Wan’s efforts could not break through his guard. And Obi-Wan was tiring, while his opponent seemed as fresh as ever.
Halfway around the melting pit, Obi-Wan dodged a vicious swing. The Sith Lord was on him before he could recover his balance. With a mighty stroke, the Sith knocked the young Jedi into the melting pit.
Time seemed to slow. Obi-Wan could hear the voices of his teachers in his memory: Qui-Gon saying over and over, Trust the living Force, my young Padawan, and Master Yoda, long ago, commanding, Do, or do not. There is no try. And now, for this moment, he understood. As he twisted to grab one of the input nozzles on the side of the pit, he thought dreamily, That’s what I have been doing wrong. I’ve been trying.
On the walkway, the Sith Lord looked down at him, grinning evilly. With deliberate malice, he kicked Obi-Wan’s lightsaber into the melting pit and watched it fall. Then he raised his lightsaber for the kill.
At the last minute, Obi-Wan flipped himself back up onto the walkway. Using the Force, he called Qui-Gon’s lightsaber to him. The weapon slapped into his hand as he landed. The unexpected move caught the Sith Lord off guard. Smoothly, without trying, resting in the living Force, Obi-Wan swung his Master’s lightsaber. The Sith Lord tried to parry, but he could not get his weapon around in time. He screamed and fell into the melting pit. Obi-Wan felt the tremor in the Force as he died.
Turning off the lightsaber, Obi-Wan ran back to Qui-Gon. “Master!”
“It is too late,” Qui-Gon said in a voice filled with pain. “It’s—”
“No!”
“Obi-Wan, promise—” Qui-Gon fought to get the words out. Obi-Wan could feel the effort he was making not to give in to the call of the Force. “Promise me you’ll train the boy.”
“Yes, Master.”
Qui-Gon’s face had a gray undertone, and his voice was growing fainter. Someone outside was cheering, and Obi-Wan had to lean closer to hear what his Master was saying. “He is the chosen one,” Qui-Gon said. “He will…bring balance…” He gasped. “Train him!”
As the distant sounds of celebration grew louder, Obi-Wan felt the last breath leave Qui-Gon’s body. He wanted to deny it, to refuse to believe, so that he could pretend to have even one more moment with the man who had been the only father he had ever known, but he could not. Weeping quietly, Obi-Wan knelt beside his dead Master, while outside the citizens of Naboo rejoiced in their sudden victory.
The following day, word came that the new Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic would be arriving soon. Better late than never, Queen Amidala thought, although she had to admit that she would have been glad indeed to see him if her plans had failed.
The cruiser landed in the courtyard in front of the main hangar. Amidala had her troops bring the two Neimoidians, Nute Gunray and Rune Haako, to meet the ship. As they waited for the entrance ramp to be lowered, she turned to Gunray and said, “Now, Viceroy, you are going to have to go back to the Senate and explain all this.”
“I think you can kiss your trade franchise good-bye,” Captain Panaka added with considerable satisfaction.
The ramp opened at last. Obi-Wan and Panaka led the Neimoidians toward the ship as the new arrivals disembarked. First came Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, followed by several Republic guards. After them, a number of beings in Jedi robes came down the ramp. Obi-Wan stopped to talk to them.
Amidala moved forward to greet Palpatine. “Congratulations on your election, Chancellor,” she said warmly. “It is so good to see you again.”
“It is good to be home,” Chancellor Palpatine said, smiling. “But it is you who should be congratulated. Your boldness has saved our people.”
But many died, Amidala thought sadly. Many of my people, and many Gungans. And Qui-Gon Jinn. That news had hurt more than she would have believed possible.
“Tomorrow, we will celebrate our victory,” she told the Chancellor. “Tonight…tonight we will grieve for those who are no longer here to celebrate.”
The afternoon was a busy one. Obi-Wan spoke with Yoda and the other Jedi Masters, describing the battle with the Sith Lord in detail. When he finished, Mace Windu frowned. “There is no doubt. The mysterious warrior was a Sith.”
“Always two there are,” Master Yoda said pensively. “No more, no less. A master and an apprentice.”
Master Windu nodded. “But which one was destroyed—the master, or the apprentice?”
No one had an answer. But either way, there’s still one of them out there, Obi-Wan thought. And if that was an apprentice, I hope I never have to face the master.
When the discussion ended at last, Obi-Wan made his request—that once he passed the trials and became a full-fledged Jedi Knight, he be allowed to take Qui-Gon’s place as Anakin Skywalker’s Master. I can never take his place, not really. But I can train Anakin. The Masters looked thoughtful, and went off to confer in private. Late in the day, they summoned him again.
To Obi-Wan’s surprise, only Master Yoda waited in the many-windowed room. He knelt and waited for the Jedi Master to speak. Master Yoda paced back and forth several times before turning to say abruptly, “Confer on you the level of Jedi Knight, the Council does.” He frowned. “But agree with your taking this boy as your Padawan learner, I do not!”
“Qui-Gon believed in him,” Obi-Wan said steadily. “I believe in Qui-Gon.”
Yoda resumed his pacing. “The chosen one, the boy may be. Nevertheless, grave danger I fear in his training.”
A shiver ran down Obi-Wan’s spine, but he raised his head. “Master Yoda, I gave Qui-Gon my word. I will
train Anakin. Without the approval of the Council, if I must.”
“Qui-Gon’s defiance I sense in you,” Yoda said. “Need that, you do not!” He sighed. “Agree, the Council does. Your apprentice, young Skywalker will be.”
Anakin stood staring at the funeral pyre. Everyone was here—Queen Amidala, Captain Panaka and his troops, Jar Jar and the Gungan leaders, Chancellor Palpatine, and the entire Jedi Council. Anakin looked around at them all, once, and then his eyes came back to the pyre where Qui-Gon’s body burned. He told me that if I stayed near him, I would be safe. He sniffed, and rubbed the back of his hand against his nose. I’ve lost everybody—Mom, Padmé, all my friends at home, and now Qui-Gon.
Hands touched his shoulders, and he looked up. Obi-Wan looked gravely down at him. “He is one with the Force, Anakin,” the Jedi said. “You must let go.”
“What will happen to me now?” Anakin asked. Even to himself, he sounded forlorn.
“I am your Master now,” Obi-Wan said solemnly.
Anakin looked up, startled. Master? Not just guardian? He felt hope rising. I get to be a Jedi after all?
As if he could read Anakin’s thoughts, Obi-Wan smiled and nodded. “You will become a Jedi. I promise.”
Comforted, Anakin stared into the flames. I’ll work hard to become a great Jedi, he swore silently to Qui-Gon as the sparks of the funeral pyre rose into the night sky. I’ll make you proud of me.
I’ll make you both proud.
More Star Wars eBooks from Disney • Lucasfilm Press
MAY 2014
Star Wars: Episode I The Phantom Menace
Star Wars: Episode II Attack of the Clones
Star Wars: Episode III Revenge of the Sith
Star Wars: Episode IV A New Hope
Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace Page 11
