The Phantom Menace (29 page)

Qui-Gon found himself frustrated all over again. He understood their thinking. It was bad that Anakin was so old, but not fatal to his chances. What troubled them was not his age, but the conflict they sensed within him. Anakin was wrestling with his parentage, with his separation from his mother, his friends, and his home. Especially his mother. He was old enough to appreciate what might happen, and the result was an uncertainty that worked within him like a caged animal seeking to break free. The Jedi Council knew that it could not tame that uncertainty from without, that it could be mastered only from within. They believed Anakin Skywalker too old for this, his thinking and his beliefs too settled to be safely reshaped. He was vulnerable to his inner conflict, and the dark side would be quick to take advantage of this.

Qui-Gon shook his head, staring over at the boy from the back of the cockpit. Yes, there were risks in accepting him as an apprentice. But few things of worth were accomplished in life without risk. The Jedi order was founded on strict adherence to established procedures in the raising and educating of young Jedi, but there were exceptions to all things, even this. That the Jedi Council was refusing even to consider that this was an instance in which an exception should be made was intolerable.

Still, he must keep faith, he knew. He must believe. The decision not to train Anakin would be reconsidered on their return and reversed. If the Council did not embrace the boy’s training as a Jedi voluntarily, then it would be up to Qui-Gon to find a way to make it do so.

He turned away then and walked from the cabin to the
passageways beyond and descended one level to the Queen’s chambers. The others she had called together for this meeting were already present when he arrived. Obi-Wan gave him a brief, neutral nod of recognition, standing next to a glowering Captain Panaka. Jar Jar Binks hugged the wall to one side, apparently trying to disappear into it. Amidala sat on her shipboard throne on a raised dais set against one wall, two of her handmaidens, Rabé and Eirtaé, flanking her. Her white-painted face was composed and her gaze cool as it met his own, but there was fire in the words she spoke next.

“When we land on Naboo,” she advised the Jedi Master after he had bowed and taken up a position next to Panaka, “it is my intention to act on this invasion at once. My people have suffered enough.”

Panaka could barely contain himself, his dark face tight with anger. “When we
land
, Your Highness, the Trade Federation will arrest you and force you to sign their treaty!”

Qui-Gon nodded thoughtfully, curious as to the Queen’s thinking. “I agree. I’m not sure what you hope to accomplish by this.”

Amidala might have been carved from stone. “The Naboo are going to take back what is ours.”

“There are only twelve of us!” Panaka snapped, unable to keep silent. “Your Highness,” he added belatedly. “We have no army!”

Her eyes shifted to Qui-Gon. “The Jedi cannot fight a war for you, Your Highness,” he advised. “We can only protect you.”

She let her gaze drift from them to settle on Jar Jar. The Gungan was studying his toes. “Jar Jar Binks!” she called.

Jar Jar, clearly caught off guard, stiffened. “Me, Your Highness?”

“Yes,” Amidala of the Naboo affirmed. “I have need of your help.”

Deep in the Naboo swamps, at the edge of the lake that bored downward to the Gungan capital city of Otoh Gunga, the fugitives from the Queen’s transport were grouped at the water’s edge, waiting for the return of Jar Jar Binks. Amidala and her handmaidens, the Jedi Knights, Captain Panaka, Anakin, R2-D2, Ric Olié and several other pilots, and a handful of Naboo guards clustered uneasily in the misty silence. It was safe to say that even now no one but the Queen knew exactly what it was she was attempting to do. All she had been willing to reveal to those in a position to inquire was that she wished to make contact with the Gungan people and Jar Jar would be her emissary. She had insisted on landing in the swamp, even after both Panaka and the Jedi had advised against it.

A single battleship orbited the planet, all that remained of the Trade Federation blockade. Housed within was the control station responsible for directing the droid army that occupied Naboo. When Panaka wondered aloud at the absence of the other battleships, Qui-Gon pointed out rather dryly that you don’t need a blockade once you control the port.

Anakin, standing apart from the others with R2-D2, studied the group surreptitiously. Jar Jar had been gone a long time, and everyone but the Queen was growing restless. She stood wrapped in her soft robes, silent and implacable in the midst of her handmaidens. Padmé, Eirtaé, and Rabé had changed from their crimson hooded cloaks
into more functional trousers, tunics, boots, and long-waisted overcoats, and there were blasters strapped to their waists. The boy had never seen Padmé like this, and he found himself wondering how good a fighter she was.

As if realizing he was thinking of her, Padmé broke away from the others and came over to him.

“How are you, Annie?” she asked quietly, her kind eyes locking on his.

He shrugged. “Okay. I’ve missed you.”

“It’s good to see you again. I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to talk with you before, but I’ve been very busy.”

They hadn’t spoken more than a few words to each other since leaving Tatooine, and Anakin hadn’t even seen Padmé since their departure from Coruscant. It had bothered him, but he’d kept it to himself.

“I didn’t—I—” he stuttered, looking down at his boots. “They decided not to make me a Jedi.”

He recounted the story for her, detailing the events surrounding his appearance before the Jedi Council. Padmé listened intently, then touched his cheek with her cool fingers. “They can change their minds, Annie. Don’t give up hope.”

She bent close then. “I have something to tell you. The Queen has made a painful, difficult decision—a decision that will change everything for the Naboo. We are a peaceful people, and we do not believe in war. But sometimes there is no choice. Either you adapt or you die. The Queen understands this. She has decided to take an aggressive posture with the Trade Federation army. The Naboo are going to fight to regain their freedom.”

“Will there be a battle?” he asked quickly, trying unsuccessfully to hide his excitement.

She nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

“Will you be involved?” he pressed.

She smiled sadly. “Annie, I don’t have a choice.”

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood together some distance away. The Jedi still weren’t speaking to each other, or only barely so. Their words on the journey out from Coruscant had been reserved almost exclusively for others. The hard feelings caused by Qui-Gon’s bid to train Anakin did not soften. The boy had tried to talk to Obi-Wan once aboard the Queen’s ship, just to say he was sorry this had happened, but the younger Jedi had brushed him off.

Now, though, Obi-Wan was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the situation. He had been close with Qui-Gon for too long to let a momentary disagreement put an end to twenty-odd years of friendship. Qui-Gon was like a father to him, the only father he knew. He was angry that the Jedi Master would dismiss him so abruptly in favor of the boy, but he realized, too, the depth of Qui-Gon’s passion when he believed in something. Training this boy to be a Jedi was a cause Qui-Gon championed as he had championed no other in Obi-Wan’s memory. He did not do so to slight his protégé. He did so because he believed in the boy’s destiny.

Obi-Wan understood. Who could say? Perhaps this time Qui-Gon was right. Perhaps Anakin Skywalker’s training was a cause worth fighting for.

“I’ve been thinking,” Qui-Gon announced suddenly, keeping his voice low, his eyes directed toward the others. “We are treading on dangerous ground. If the Queen intends to fight a war, we cannot become involved. Not even in her efforts to persuade the Gungans to join with the Naboo against the Federation, if that is what she
intends by coming here. The Jedi have no authority to take sides.”

“But we do have authority to protect the Queen,” Obi-Wan pointed out.

Qui-Gon’s eyes shifted to find his. “It is a fine line we walk, then.”

“Master,” Obi-Wan said, facing him now. “I behaved badly on Coruscant, and I am embarrassed. I meant no disrespect to you. I do not wish to be difficult in the matter of the boy.”

“Nor have you been,” the older Jedi replied, a faint smile appearing. “You have been honest with me. Honesty is never wrong. I did not lie when I told the Council you were ready. You are. I have taught you all I can. You will be a great Jedi, my young Padawan. You will make me proud.”

They gripped hands impulsively, and as quickly as that the breach that had opened between them was closed.

Moments later, a dark shape broke the surface of the water with a splash, and Jar Jar Binks climbed from the lake, shaking water from his amphibious skin onto the assembled. Long ears dripping, billed mouth shedding water like a duck’s, he shook his head worriedly.

“Tis nobody dere! Deys all gone!” His eyestalks swiveled. “Some kinda fight, deys have. Maccaneks, mebbe. Very bombad. Otoh Gunga empty. All Gungans gone. All gone.”

“Do you think they have been taken to the camps?” Panaka asked quickly, glancing around at the group.

“More likely they were wiped out,” Obi-Wan offered in disgust.

But Jar Jar shook his head. “Me no think so. Gungans
too smart. Go into hiding. When dey in trubble, go to sacred place. Maccaneks no find dem dere.”

Qui-Gon stepped forward. “Sacred place?” he repeated. “Can you take us there, Jar Jar?”

The Gungan sighed heavily, as if to say “Here we go again,” and beckoned for them to follow.

They traversed the swamp for some time, first skirting the lake, then plunging deep into a forest of massive trees and tall grasses, following a water-screened pathway that connected a series of knolls. Somewhere in the distance, Trade Federation STAPs buzzed and whined as a search for the transport fugitives commenced in earnest. Jar Jar glanced about apprehensively as he picked his way through the mire, but did not slow.

Finally, they emerged in a clearing of marshy grasses and stands of trees with roots tangled so thickly they formed what appeared to be an impassable hedge. Jar Jar stopped, sniffed the air speculatively, and nodded. “Dissen it.”

He lifted his head and made a strange chittering noise though his billed mouth, the sound echoing eerily in the silence. The group waited, eyes searching the misty gloom.

Suddenly Captain Tarpals and a scouting party of Gungans riding kaadu emerged from the haze, electropoles and energy spears held at the ready.

“Heydey ho, Cap’n Tarpals,” Jar Jar greeted cheerfully.

“Binks!” the Gungan leader exclaimed in disbelief. “Notta gain!”

Jar Jar shrugged nonchalantly. “We come ta see da Boss!”

Tarpals rolled his eyes. “Ouch time, Binks. Ouch time for alla yous, mebbe.”

Herding them together, Gungans on kaadu providing
a perimeter escort on all sides, Tarpals led them deeper into the swamp. The canopy formed by the limbs of the trees became so thick that the sky and the sun almost disappeared. Bits and pieces of statuary began to surface, crumbling stone facades and plinths sinking in the mire. Vines snaked their way across the broken remains, dropping down from limbs that twisted and wound together in vast wooden nets.

Pushing through a high stand of saw grass, they arrived in a clearing filled with Gungan refugees—men, women, and children of all ages and descriptions, huddled together on a broad, dry rise, many with their possessions gathered around them. Tarpals led the company past the refugees to where the ruins of what had once been a grand temple were being slowly reclaimed by the swamp. Platforms and stairs were all that remained intact, the columns and ceilings having long ago collapsed and broken apart. The massive heads and limbs of stone statues poked out of the mire, fingers clutching weapons and eyes staring sightlessly into space.

At the far end of the ruins, Boss Nass appeared, lumbering out of shadows with several more of the Gungan council to stand atop a stone head partially submerged in the water. Amidala and her retinue approached to within hailing distance over a network of causeways and islands.

“Jar Jar Binks, whadda yous doen back?” Boss Nass rumbled angrily. “Yous suppose ta take dese outlanders and no come back! Yous pay good dis time!” The fleshy head swiveled. “Who yous bring here ta da Gungan sacred place?”

The Queen stepped forward at once, white face lifting. “I am Amidala, Queen of the Naboo.”

“Naboo!” Boss Nass thundered. “No like da Naboo!
Yous bring da maccaneks! Dey bust up our homes! Dey drive us all out!” A heavy arm lifted, pointing at the Queen. “Yous all bombad! Yous all die, mebbe!”

Anakin noticed suddenly that they were completely surrounded by Gungans, some on kaadu, some on foot, all with electropoles, energy spears, and some sort of throwing device. Captain Panaka and the Naboo guards were looking around nervously, hands straying toward their blasters. The Jedi flanked the Queen and her handmaidens, but their arms hung loose at their sides.

“We wish to form an alliance with you,” Amidala tried again.

“We no form nutten wit da Naboo!” Boss Nass roared angrily.

Abruptly Padmé detached herself from the others and stepped in front of the Queen. “You did well, Sabé. But I will have to do this myself,” she said quietly, and turned to face Boss Nass.

“Who dis?” the head Gungan snapped.

Standing next to Anakin, R2-D2 beeped softly in recognition. The droid had figured it out first.

Padmé straightened. “I am Queen Amidala,” she announced in a loud, clear voice. “Sabé serves from time to time as my decoy, my loyal bodyguard. I am sorry for my deception, but given the circumstances, I am sure you can understand.” She turned to the Jedi, her eyes shifting momentarily to find Anakin. “Gentlemen, I apologize for misleading you.”

Her eyes returned quickly to Boss Nass, who was frowning suspiciously, clearly not understanding any of what was happening. “Although our people do not always agree, Your Honor,” she continued, her voice softening, “we have always lived in peace. Until now. The Trade Federation, with its tanks and its ‘maccaneks,’ has
destroyed all that we have worked so hard to build. The Gungans are in hiding, and the Naboo have been imprisoned in camps. If we do not act quickly, all that we value will be lost forever.”