'But I will give her your message.'
The boy grinned. 'Maybe I will become a Jedi Knight!' he exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement.
Amidala nodded. 'Maybe you will.'
'I think Padme would like that.'
'I think she would, too.'
Anakin backed away. 'I didn't mean to...' He searched for the word and couldn't find it.
'Good luck, Anakin,' the Queen said softly. 'Do well.'
He wheeled away with a broad smile and was out the door.
The day passed quickly for Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi, and sunset found them standing together on a balcony outside the Jedi Temple overlooking Coruscant. Neither had said anything to the other for some time. They had collected Anakin Skywalker from Senator Palpatine's quarters following his return from the Republic Senate and brought him before the Council for examination. Now they were awaiting a decision.
As far as Obi-Wan was concerned, it was a foregone conclusion. The young Jedi was frustrated and embarrassed for his Master, who had clearly overstepped his bounds once again. Qui-Gon had been right in his suspicion that the boy was possessed of an inordinately high midi-chlorian count. Obi-Wan had run the test himself. But that alone was not enough to demonstrate Anakin was the chosen one. If there even was such a one, which Obi-Wan seriously doubted. There were hundreds of these old prophecies and legends, handed down through the centuries as a part ofJedi lore. In any case, Qui-Gon was relying on instinct once again, and instinct was useful only if born of the Force and not of emotion. Qui-Gon was insistent on championing the causes of underdogs, of empathizing with creatures he found in some peculiar, inscrutable way he alone could comprehend significant in the scheme of things. Obi-Wan studied his mentor surreptitiously. Why did he insist on pursuing these hopeless causes? The Council might find the boy possessed of more midi-chlorians than normal, but they would never accept him for Jedi training. The rules were clear and established, and the reasons supporting them were proven and unassailable. Training for the order after more than a year of life was doomed to fail. At nine years of age, Anakin Skywalker was simply too old.
But Qui-Gon would not let it go. He would brace the Council once again, and the result would be the same as it had been on so many other occasions Qui-Gon would be denied and his stature as a Jedi Master would fall a little further.
Obi-Wan moved to where the older Jedi stood staring out at the endless horizon of skyscrapers. He stood close to him, silent for a moment longer before speaking.
'The boy will not pass the Council's tests, Master,' he said softly, 'and you know it. He is far too old.'
Qui-Gon kept his gaze directed toward the sunset. 'Anakin will become a Jedi, I promise you.'
Obi-Wan sighed wearily. 'Don't defy the Council, Master. Not again.'
The older man seemed to go very still, perhaps even to stop breathing, before he turned to his protege. 'I will do what I must, Obi-Wan. Would you have me be any other way?'
'Master, you could be sitting on the Council by now if you would just follow the code. You deserve to be sitting on the Council.' Obi-Wan's frustration surfaced in a burst of mom entary anger. His eyes sought the other's and held them. 'They will not go along with you this time.'
Qui-Gon Jinn studied him a moment, then smiled. 'You still have much to learn, my young Padawan.'
Obi-Wan bit off his reply and looked away, thinking to himself that Qui-Gon was right, but that maybe this time he should consider taking his own advice.
Inside, Anakin Skywalker faced the Jedi Council, standing in the same place Qui-Gon Jinn had stood some hours earlier. He was nervous at first, brought into the chamber by Qui-Gon, then left alone with the twelve members of the Council. Standing in the mosaic circle and ringed by the silent assemblage, awestruck and uncertain of what was expected of him, he felt vulnerable and exposed. The eyes of the Jedi were distant as they viewed him, but he sensed they were looking not past him, but inside.
They began to question him then, without preliminary introductions or explanations, without expending any effort at all to make him feel comfortable or welcome. He knew some of them by name, for Qui-Gon had described a few, and he was quick to put faces to names. They questioned him at great length, testing memory and knowledge, seeking insights at which he could only guess. They knew of his existence as a slave. They knew of his background on Tatooine, of his mother and his friends, of his Podracing, ofWatto, of everything factual and past, of the order of his life.
Now Mace Windu was looking at a screen the boy could not see, and Anakin was giving names to images that flashed across its liquid surface. Images appeared in Anakin's mind with such speed he was reminded of the strange blur of desert and mountains whipping past his cockpit during a Podrace.
'A bantha. A hyperdrive. A proton blaster.' The images whizzed through his mind as he named them off. 'A Republic cruiser. A Rodian cup. A Hutt speeder.'
The screen went blank, and Mace looked up, at the boy.
'Good, good, young one,' the wizened alien called Yoda praised. The sleepy eyes fixed on him, intent behind their lids. 'How feel you?'
'Cold, sir,' Anakin confessed.
'Afraid, are you?'
The boy shook his head. 'No, sir.'
'Afraid to give up your life?' the dark one called Mace Windu asked, leaning forward slightly.
'I don't think so,' he answered, then hesitated. Something about the answer didn't feel right.
Yoda blinked and his long ears cocked forward. 'See through you, we can,' he said quietly.
'Be mindful of your feelings,' Mace Windu said.
