The Phantom Menace (AU)/Chapter 22

Among the tallest and most imposing buildings on Coruscant, the Jedi Temple was a surprisingly modern-looking structure given the ancient origins of the order. Yet most Jedi knew the high walls and spiring towers were merely what was on the surface, deeper into the planet was the older structure, more closer to the flow of the Force.

In one of the four towers of the Temple was the Jedi Council chamber where twelve Jedi Masters sat in a circle, mixture of both species and gender. It was in the middle of the circle that Padmé stood with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.

She was giving the report on the mission to Naboo with no more emotion than if she was outlining the week’s weather. She had never given a mission report before, though had watched her Master give several so she had an idea of what was needed.

When it was finished there was an awkward silence and Qui-Gon continued the report, beginning when he and Obi-Wan had arrived on Naboo.

Padmé took this opportunity to study the faces of the Jedi Masters, normally they were close to unreadable but sometimes you could get an indication. A tiny flicker in the Force, the changing of a facial expression. Yet one Master, a human by the name of Renust Nju, had regarded Padmé’s assertions on what had killed her Master with barely veiled scepticism. He was a tall man with pale skin as if he spent most of his time inside. His black-streaked grey hair was pulled back tight from his face and flowed down his back and on each hip he had a lightsaber. Renust Nju was primarily known for his mastering of the dual lightsaber form Jar’Kai. He had also taught Padmé lightsaber combat before she had become a Padawan learner.

“And so,” Qui-Gon finished after he had outlined the clash he had had with Shakya’s killer on Tatooine. “My conclusion is that the one who killed Shakya Devi is in fact a Sith.”

What? was Padmé’s first reaction, she knew a little about the Sith, but they were supposed to have all died out a long time ago, weren’t they? The creature who had killed her Master was certainly at one with the dark side, but was she a Sith?

The Jedi Council seemed to see along these lines as well, there was another long, sustained silence before Mace Windu looked at Qui-Gon sceptically.

“A Sith?” he asked, glancing at Padmé for a moment but her eyes were on the floor.

“It’s impossible,” stated Ki-Adi-Mundi. “The Sith have been extinct for a millennium.”

“They could not have returned without our knowledge,” asserted Renust Nju.

Qui-Gon chose to say nothing, he knew his suggestion would be dubious to the Council, it would even seem ludicrous. But it was irrefutable in his eyes, someone as honed and disciplined as Shakya’s slayer was could not be an ordinary servant of the dark side of the Force. If that had been the case either he himself or Shakya would have managed to defeat her.

No, Qui-Gon thought, she has been trained to well to be anything but a Sith.

“Threatened, the Republic is, if the Sith are involved,” Yoda said in a voice that no one could dispute.

“This is extremely difficult to accept, Qui-Gon,” Renust said, though the uncertainty in his voice could still be heard. Qui-Gon imagined it would be, it was hard for him to accept at first, but once he had been certain there was no alternative.

“Difficult to see, the dark side is,” Yoda murmured, his face deep in concentration. “Discover we must, the identity of this attacker.”

“Perhaps she will reveal herself again,” suggested Ki-Adi-Mundi, this seemed a fair assumption that not even Renust Nju could dispute.

“The attack was with purpose, but why did it not follow through?” Renust asked. “The queen was definitely her target, but why did she not proceed when the way was cleared by Shakya’s death? This all points to a random attack where a Jedi has been killed, not a Sith.”

“Perhaps she was acting on someone’s orders,” suggested a female voice.

Qui-Gon turned to regard Master Kuan Yin Nevu, a small and rather slight woman with tattoos adorning her dark face and hands. She was known for her keen perception as well as her subtle way of convincing others. Yet what she had suggested Qui-Gon had thought of as well, for they all knew that the Sith had changed to have only two of their numbers at a time. If Shakya’s killer was merely the apprentice…

“Masters,” Padmé felt embarrassed about interrupting so serious a discussion. “I was under the impression that she was working with the Trade Federation.”

There was another long silence; either option did not bode well.

“Clear this much is, much danger Queen Nalanda is in,” Yoda said curtly, “remain with her you must.”

“We will use all our resources to reveal the identity of this attacker,” Mace interjected, he then turned to Padmé. “You are relieved of this mission and any further action until another Master can continue your training.”

“But Master I—” Padmé protested, but Yoda cut her off.

“Want you do, to face your Master’s killer, hmmm?” the little Jedi Master said, staring at Padmé sharply. “End up like your Master you want, say you?”

Padmé swallowed hard, Yoda was right and there was no use arguing. But that didn’t quiet her thoughts, nor her feelings Mace Windu raised his hand in dismissal. “May the Force be with you,” he intoned, indicating that the session was at an end.

Padmé and Obi-Wan bowed and headed for the door, but Qui-Gon did not. Obi-Wan shot Padmé a questioning look, she merely shrugged her shoulders but she had some idea about what the Qui-Gon would say.

“More to say, have you Qui-Gon?” Yoda asked.

“With your permission, Masters,” Qui-Gon said carefully, “I have encountered a vergence in the Force.”

“A vergence,” Mace Windu repeated, “centred around a person?”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon replied with a nod. “A boy. He has the highest midi-chlorian count I have encountered in a lifeform. And,” Qui-Gon knew that his next suggestion would be even more unbelievable than the re-appearance of the Sith. “I have reason to believe he was conceived by midi-chlorians.”

There was another long silence, this one slightly different than the ones before. There was an old Jedi prophecy speaking of such an occurrence, of a being conceived by the will of the Force with more power than any Jedi that had come before.

“You speak of the prophecy of the Chosen One,” Mace said, speaking what they were all thinking, “of the one who will bring balance to the Force. You believe it is this…boy?”

“I don’t presume—” Qui-Gon faltered.

“But you do, you do!” Yoda interrupted. “Revealed, your intention is!”

Qui-Gon sighed, he should have known better than to hide anything from the Council, least of all Yoda. Even if you didn’t acknowledge something to yourself, Yoda could find it for you.

“I request that the boy be tested,” he said evenly.

“To be trained as a Jedi, you wish for him?” Yoda probed.

Once again Yoda had hit directly on the real issue in Qui-Gon’s mind. Qui-Gon, of course, knew better than to suggest it to the Council as there was no guarantee that it would happen.

“Finding him was the will of the Force, there is no doubt in that,” Qui-Gon admitted. “And from what I have seen it was only a small step to run the test before what I suspected became more or less actual.”

Mace held up a hand to stop him. “Bring him before us,” he said.

“Test him, we will,” Yoda said.



Once outside, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were deep in some sort of disagreement so Padmé excused herself and walked off alone. Somehow, now that she was back at the Temple, the reality of her Master’s death set in, more so than when she was out in the field.

Word had gotten around that she was now an ‘orphaned’ Padawan and Padmé was stopped several times as she walked through the Temple, but she always continued walking. Padmé didn’t want sympathy, or well-intentioned words of comfort, or even good wishes. She just wanted to be left alone.

She finally arrived at her room and, seeing there was no one waiting for her outside, she went in and closed the door behind her, falling back on her bed and staring at the ceiling.

Most of the younger members of the Jedi adorned their rooms with models of starship—some replicated craft, others of original design—Padmé had no real liking for starfighters and instead had decorated her ceiling with her favourite constellations. It had been an exercise in patience itself, using the Force to levitate the adhesive stars and align them in the right positions. Yet Padmé was pleased with the effect, by day they reflected light and in darkness emitted it in soft flashes like real stars.

Faintly, she heard footsteps in the corridor, Padmé buried her face in her pillow as they stopped at her door. The doorchime sounded but she ignored it, she didn’t want to talk to anyone now.

The chime sounded again and with a sigh she propped herself up on her elbow and used the Force to open the door. It took several attempts, but finally the door opened.

In the door way stood Master Kuan Yin Nevu.

“Master Nevu,” Padmé said as she jumped to her feet and bowed slightly, as was fitting with meeting a member of the Jedi Council.

“I hope I am not disturbing you,” the Jedi Master said politely.

“No, not at all,” Padmé stammered, clearly she was not here just to deliver a message. “Won’t you come in?”

The Master entered the room, closed the door behind her then took the chair at Padmé’s desk, folding her tattooed hands in her lap. Padmé sat opposite her on the side of the bed.

“I came to ask how you were getting on,” Kuan Yin said calmly.

“Barely, it’s still fresh in my mind,” Padmé shuddered, remembering the dream she had had. “But Master—”

Kuan Yin held up a hand before she could say anymore. “I am not here to give any words of advice, or even to offer my condolences,” she explained, “I dare say you have had enough of that by now.”

“You could say that,” Padmé assented, “I keep trying to forget what I saw, of how my Master died but…” Padmé faltered, not knowing how to explain what she felt.

“You don’t want to forget,” Kuan Yin finished for her, “because you are afraid that if you do forget, even the final painful memory, you will forget her.”

“Yes,” Padmé agreed, “that’s it exactly.”

“That was I felt when I lost my former Master,” she averted her eyes, focusing on something she alone could see, remembering what had happened. “We were on a mission together two years ago; he sacrificed himself so that I could get away with the hostages we had come for. He said one of us had to live so the mission could be completed.”

She seemed to have touched a nerve. “I’m sorry,” Padmé said, not sure what to say.

“Sorry?” Kuan Yin repeated. “Sorry for whom? For my former Master? He accepted his death when it came. And as for myself I have accepted it and moved on. I took his place on the Council when I returned and I have never looked back with regret.” She paused, smiling at Padmé. “I have remembered fondly what he has taught me, but I can’t let his loss overwhelm me and I know that he would want me to go on living. Don’t worry,” she said gently, “it’ll happen to you in time, and only if you let it.”

At this auspicious moment Padmé’s comlink buzzed. She smiled depreciatingly at Kuan Yin and took the call. It was Qui-Gon.

“Padmé,” he said without preamble. “Could I see you in a few minutes?”

He told her where he was then Padmé shut the ‘link down.

“Looks like I'm going somewhere already,” she said lightly.

“It can only help,” said Kuan Yin as she got to her feet. “Remember what I have said, and may the Force be with you.”

“I will, and thank you Master Nevu,” Padmé said gratefully, then something occurred to her. “Master?”

Already at the door, Kuan Yin turned to face her.

“Do you think you could have it arranged so that I could go back to Naboo with Master Jinn?” It was a hope against all hope, but it needed to be said.

“The Council is confident in its decision,” Kuan Yin replied glibly, “and the reasons for their decision are perfectly valid.”

“Yes, I know,” Padmé said impatiently, “but couldn’t you…” she let the rest of the sentence peter out, not wanting to force her request.

But Kuan Yin merely smiled, understanding completely.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, but that was all she would promise.