| abstract
| - Padmé stood outside the Jedi Council chamber, on a balcony overlooking the city. The sun was setting and the reflected light given from the orbital mirrors was lessening. Her eyes turned towards the closed doors, Anakin was inside and while she had told him what she could nothing could prepare him for the tests the Council would put him through. While Qui-Gon had sent her to fetch Anakin as he said the boy was quite taken with her, Padmé suspected that it had more to do with the growing animosity between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. It was not just apparent in the Force, but even to the way they stood together, not looking, not talking. Obi-Wan took a breath and let his frustration out with it, but the feelings that had caused it stayed. Why did his Master constantly feel the need to go against the Council? If Qui-Gon just toed the line and stuck to the code he would be on the Council. And as for the boy, Obi-Wan doubted that even something like the Chosen One existed, and even if Anakin may fit the mould there was no way the Council would accept him for training. Anakin was too old to begin the disciplined life of a Jedi, and there were no exceptions. “Master,” Obi-Wan felt he had to say something, “you know as well as I do that the boy will not pass the Council’s trial. They won’t accept him, he is too old.” “Anakin will become a Jedi, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said as if it were an established fact. “Don’t defy the Council, Master,” Obi-Wan sighed, “not again.” “I will do what I must, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon murmured. And what about me? Obi-Wan wanted to ask, don’t you see that already the boy has divided us? Won’t you even listen? With another breath he let his frustration go, a Jedi is always calm, he told himself. “Master, they will not go along with you this time,” Obi-Wan said in the calmest voice he could summon. “If you would simply follow the code you would be on the Council.” Qui-Gon turned to face his Padawan and studied him wordlessly. He had hoped to find acceptance from Obi-Wan, was it small surprise that it was not there? “You still have much to learn, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said, then turned back to look at the darkening city. “A cup, a bantha, a speeder,” Anakin said, Mace Windu was holding up a viewscreen that Anakin could not see and the boy was supposed to name the images as they appeared. So far there had not been one mistake, clearly his strength in the Force was astonishing, even Mace had to admit that. That was not all they had done, the Council had asked him about his history, his life as a slave. His mother, Watto, his friends…they knew everything about his past, including what Qui-Gon had told him. Anakin shivered, he felt very uncomfortable in the middle of the circle, all eyes were on him like a group of sand panthers sizing up their prey. They could see right through him, Padmé had said, see his innermost thoughts and feelings. The one named Master Kuan Yin smiled warmly at Anakin for a moment. He felt better, a little. “How feel you?” Yoda asked, his gaze looked so penetrating that Anakin swore the Jedi Master could see what he had for breakfast that morning. “Cold, sir,” Anakin replied, shivering again. “Afraid are you?” Yoda probed. “No sir,” Anakin said, and he wasn't. Nervous? Yes. Uncomfortable? Definitely. But not afraid. “Afraid to give up your life?” Renust Nju asked. “I don’t think so,” Anakin said, not sure if this was the right thing to say. “See through you we can,” Yoda reminded, “your thoughts, your feelings.” “Be mindful of them,” Mace Windu added. “Your thoughts dwell on your mother,” Kuan Yin said kindly. “I miss her,” Anakin admitted. “Afraid to lose her, I think,” Yoda said and there was a general agreement. “What has that got to do with anything?” Anakin flashed. “Everything,” Yoda said slowly, his stare so formidable Anakin figured it could look through solid rock. “To the dark side, fear leads,” he told the boy. “Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering.” “I’m not afraid!” Anakin said with spirit, but Yoda ignored him. “A Jedi must have the deepest commitment, the most serious mind,” he continued. “Much fear I sense in you, young one.” Relax, Qui-Gon had told him before he went in, don’t let your feelings take over. Anakin took a deep breath, letting his anger, frustration and fear escape him. “I am not afraid,” he repeated, and this time he meant it. “Then continue, we will,” Yoda said, his tone milder, his gaze softer but the undertone of authority still there. He nodded to Mace and the examination resumed. In Palpatine’s apartment Queen Nalanda stood with Danta Pela watching night falling on the city. The Gungan was still very much in awe of the Queen, more so since he had watched her in the Senate. They had left the Senate an hour before when Palpatine informed Nalanda that there was nothing to be done except wait around while the nominations for Supreme Chancellor were discussed. Nalanda had changed from her ceremonial garments into more sombre ones of black and gold. Yet even with the elaborate embroidery and beads, she looked very small and slight beside the gangling Gungan. “Mesa sometimes wonder why da Guds invent pain,” Danta said, trying to alleviate the situation. “To motivate us, I imagine,” Nalanda replied, “make us stronger.” “Yousa think yours people gonna die?” Danta asked. “I don’t know, Danta,” the Queen said. “Gungans get pasted too?” “I hope not.” “Wesa Gungans no die without fight,” Danta said with pride. “Wesa warriors, wesa have army!” “An army?” Nalanda looked at Danta with interest. “A grand army!” Danta told her with a flourish. “Lotta Gungans come from allover. Dat why no swamp beings give us no trouble. Too many Gungans. Got big energy shields too,” he added. “Nuttin can get through. Got energy balls, fly out of slings and splat electric and goo. Flyers too, bombad from above.” He was silent for a moment, something occurred to him. “Mesa think tat why Naboo no like us.” Nalanda was about to make a proposition to Danta when Senator Palpatine entered with Panaka in tow. “Your Highness,” Panaka beamed as he bowed. “I have good news, Senator Palpatine has been nominated to succeed Valorum as Supreme Chancellor.” “That is…good news,” Nalanda managed to say. “A surprise, Your Majesty, but a pleasant one, I assure you,” the senator said mildly. “I promise that if I am elected I will restore democracy to the Republic and I will put an end to the corruption in the Senate. The Trade Federation will lose its influence and our people—” “Who else has been nominated?” Nalanda interrupted. “Bail Antilles of Alderaan, Aks Moe of Malastare and Chiron Dunai of Mamphra,” Panaka told her. “Your Majesty,” Palpatine said, having recovered from Nalanda’s interruption, “I feel confident that our situation will generate strong support for us when the voting takes place tomorrow. I will be chancellor,” he said with surprising confidence, “I promise you.” This is a fair jump, Nalanda mused, thirty seconds ago you were telling me what would happen if you were elected. Now you act as if you have already won. My, my, doesn’t the galaxy move fast? And the worst part is, Nalanda concluded dismally, I helped you get there. Aloud she said. “I wish you well, Senator, but I fear by the time you succeed there will be nothing left of our cities or our way of life to salvage.” “I understand your concern, Your Majesty,” Palpatine said in a low voice, “but you know how forcibly the Trade Federation have secured our planet. It will be nigh impossible to remove them.” “Perhaps,” Nalanda agreed reluctantly, though she was willing to challenge the notion of impossibility if need be. “But with the Senate in transition there is nothing more I can do here,” she looked straight at Palpatine. “This is your arena, Senator, I feel it is time that I returned to mine. My place is with my people, I have decided to go back to Naboo.” “Go back?” Palpatine asked incredulously, his face paled noticeably. “But Your Majesty, you must be realistic. It’s too dangerous, they will force you to sign the treaty.” “I will sign no treaty, Senator,” Nalanda said, her expression daring anyone to challenge her. “My fate will be no different than that of our people.” She nodded to Panaka. “Captain.” “Yes, Your Highness?” “Ready my ship,” she was already on her way out of the room. Palpatine moved to stop her. “Please, Your Majesty,” he said quickly, “stay here where it is safe.” “No place is safe,” Nalanda countered, “that much is certain if the Senate cannot condemn the invasion. It appears to me that the Republic no longer functions correctly, if it functions at all. If you are elected,” she continued, “I know you will do all in your power to stop the Federation. I pray you will find a way to bring sanity and compassion back to the Republic. Until then,” she concluded dryly, “I will do what I can.” She walked out of the room, followed by Panaka and her handmaidens. This time Palpatine made no attempt to stop her.
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