The doors to the senator's office were open, and the boy and the Gungan could see inside clearly. The Queen was present, dressed now in a gown of purple velvet, which was wrapped about her slim form in layers, the sleeves long and full, hanging gracefully from her slender arms. A fan-shaped crown with ornate beadwork and tassels rested upon her head. She was sitting in a chair, listening as Palpatine spoke to her. Her handmaidens stood to one side, crimson robes and hoods drawn close about them. Anakin did not think either was Padme. He wondered if he should try to find her instead of waiting here, but he did not know where to look.
The conversation within seemed decidedly one-sided, Senator Palpatine gesturing animatedly as he stalked the room, the Queen as still as stone. Anakin wished he could hear what was being said. He glanced at Jar Jar, and he could tell from the Gungan's restless eyes he was thinking the same thing.
When Captain Panaka walked past them and entered the room beyond, screening them from view for just a moment, Anakin rose impulsively. Motioning for Jar Jar to stay where he was, putting a finger to his lips in warning, he moved to one side of the doorway, pressing close. Through the crack between the open door and the jamb, he could just make out the voices of Palpatine and the Queen, muffled and indistinct.
Palpatine had stopped moving and was standing before the Queen, shaking his head. 'The Republic is not what it once was. The Senate is full of greedy, squabbling delegates who are only looking out for themselves and their home systems. There is no interest in the common good-no civility, only politics.' He sighed wearily. 'It's disgusting. I must be frank, Your Majesty. There is little chance the Senate will act on the invasion.'
Amidala was silent a moment. 'Chancellor Valorum seems to think there is hope.'
'If I may say so, Your Majesty,' the senator replied, his voice kind, but sad, 'the chancellor has little real power. He is mired in baseless accusations of corruption. A manufactured scandal surrounds him. The bureaucrats are in charge now.'
The Queen rose, standing tall and fixed before him. 'What options do we have, Senator?'
Palpatine seemed to think on the matter for a moment. 'Our best choice would be to push for the election of a stronger supreme chancellor-one who could take control of the bureaucrats, enforce the laws, and give us justice.' He brushed back his thick hair, worrying his forehead with steepled fingers. 'You could call for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum.'
Amidala did not seem convinced. 'Valorum has been our strongest supporter. Is there no other way?'
Palpatine stood before her. 'Our only other choice would be to submit the matter to the courts-'
'There is no time for that,' the Queen interrupted quickly, a hint of anger in her voic. 'The courts take even longer to decide things than the Senate.' She shifted purposefully, an edge sharpening her words further. 'Our people are dying-more and more each day. We must do something quickly. We must stop the Trade Federation before this gets any worse.'
Palpatine gave Amidala a stern look. 'To be realistic about the matter, Your Highness, I believe we are going to have to accept Trade Federation control as an accomplished fact-for the time being, at least.'
The Queen shook her head slowly. 'That is something I cannot do, Senator.'
They faced each other in the silence that followed, eyes locked, and Anakin Skywalker, hiding behind the door without, found himself wondering suddenly what had become of Qui-Gon Jinn.
Unlike other buildings in the vast sprawl of Coruscant, the Jedi Temple stood alone. A colossal pyramid with multiple spires rising skyward from its flat top, it sat apart from everything at the end of a broad promenade linking it with bulkier, sharper-edged towers in which solitude and mediation were less likely to be found. Within the Temple were housed the J edi Knights and their students, the whole of the order engaged in contemplation and study of the Force, in codification of its dictates and mastery of its disciplines, and in training to serve the greater good it embodied.
The Jedi Council room dominated a central portion of the complex. The Council itself was in session, its doors closed, its proceedings hidden from the eyes and ears of all but fourteen people. Twelve of them - some human, some nonhuman - comprised the Council, a diverse and seasoned group who had gravitated to the order from both ends of the galaxy. The final two J edi, who were guests of the Council this afternoon, were Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi.
The seats of the twelve Council members formed a circle facing inward to where Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood, the former relating the events of the past few weeks, the latter a step behind his Master, listening attentively. The room was circular and domed, supported by graceful pillars spaced between broad windows open to the city and the light. The shape of the room and the Council seating reflected the Jedi belief in the equality of and interconnection between all things. In the world of the Jedi, the balance of life within the Force was the pathway to understanding and peace.
Qui-Gon studied the faces of his listeners as he spoke, each of them familiar to him. Most were Jedi Masters like himself, among them Yoda and Mace Windu, seniors in rank among those seated. They were more compliant in the ways of the Jedi order than he had ever been or would probably ever be.
He stood apart in the mosaic circle that formed a speaker's platform for those who addressed the Council, his tall, broad form and deep voice commanding the attention of those gathered, his blue eyes fixing them each in turn, constantly searching for a reaction to his words. They watched him carefully- stately Ki-Adi-Mundi, young and beautiful Adi Gallia, slender Depa Billaba, crested and marble-faced Even Piell, and all the others, each different and unique in appearance, each with something vital to offer as a representative of the Council.
Qui-Gon brought his eyes back to Mace Windu and Yoda, the ones he must convince, the ones most respected and powerful of those who sat in judgment.
'My conclusion,' he finished quietly, his story completed, 'is that the one who attacked me on Tatooine is a Sith Lord.'
The silence that followed was palpable. Then there was a stirring of brown robes, a shifting of bodies and limbs. Glances were exchanged and murmurs of disbelief quickly voiced.
'A Sith Lord?' Mace Windu repeated with a growl, leaning forward. He was a strong, dark-skinned man with a shaved head and penetrating eyes, smooth-faced despite his years.
'Impossible!' Ki-Adi-Mundi snapped irritably, not bothering to hide his dismay at the suggestion. 'The Sith have been gone for a millennium!'
Yoda shifted only slightly in his chair, a small and wizened presence in the company of much larger beings, his eyes gone to slits like a contented sand panther's, his whiskery wrinkled face turned toward Qui-Gon's
