Star Wars - Episode I Journal - Queen Amidala

by Jude Watson

  “You assume too much,” I fired back. I told him that I didn’t see the wisdom of putting our fate in the hands of a young boy.

  Qui-Gon looked impatient. “And did the Naboo err when they put their fate in the hands of a girl?” he asked.

  He didn’t say it to be cruel. But I felt the sting. Did they err? So far, I haven’t handled my first crisis very well.

  He realized that he had hurt me somehow, though he couldn’t have realized why. To him, I’m just Padmé.

  “You need to have faith,” he said.

  I wasn’t ready to forgive him. I replied crisply that I only have faith in the things I can see and touch.

  “Ah,” Qui-Gon said softly. “Perhaps that is your mistake, handmaiden.”

  Infuriating! He wouldn’t speak that way to the Queen.

  I hope.

  In a nearby box, I saw the biggest Hutt I’ve ever seen. His body consisted of rolls of undulating fat. Around him swarmed servants and slaves and nasty-looking hangers-on.

  Shmi followed my gaze. “Jabba the Hutt,” she observed bitterly. “Proof that no matter how bad it is to be a slave, it could be worse. Jabba could be your master.”

  “They seem to be waiting for his signal to begin,” I said.

  “Nothing happens on Tatooine without Jabba’s permission,” Shmi said, disgusted.

  The pilots gunned their engines. Jabba gave the signal.

  They were off!

  Almost immediately, Anakin stalled. But his engines started again with a roar, and he took off again. But now he is so far behind!

  I can’t write anymore. Later.

  AFTER THE RACE

  We watched the distant part of the race on view screens. The track wound through narrow canyons, tall cliffs, high dunes, and flat desert. It was treacherous. I didn’t know how anyone could pilot a Podracer at such speeds and survive.

  Whenever I caught sight of Anakin, I was amazed at his skill. He swerved, dove, plummeted, corrected, and hopped over other racers. He was one with the machine. He had no time to plan a move—he just moved. By the middle of the first lap, he’d regained the distance he’d lost.

  Suddenly, I saw a parallel between us. Aren’t I moving, swerving, dodging, all without a plan? I am doing things I couldn’t have dreamed I could do. Can I, too, regain the ground I have lost?

  But now I worried, along with Shmi, about Anakin. Sebulba didn’t race fairly. He used any dirty trick he could get away with. Already he had disabled a rival’s engine. The driver hit a cliff dead-on in a shattering crash.

  No wonder Shmi hates these races. There are no rules!

  After the first lap, Sebulba was comfortably in first place. Anakin was in sixth. We cheered wildly as he zoomed past, even though he couldn’t hear or see us.

  On the second lap, I thought the tension would break me. I wanted to scream, cry, run out onto the track to help Anakin. All of my training in silence and control didn’t help with this agonizing tension. The usually calm Shmi was twisting her tunic in her hands until it was a sodden mess. Jar Jar kept up a constant hum of panic.

  And Qui-Gon? He sat as if he was enjoying a sunny day! Sometimes, he even closed his eyes. He had risked my life on a nine-year-old’s racing skills, and he didn’t even break a sweat!

  Here is another vow: If I am ever elected Supreme Chancellor of the Senate, I will decree that all Jedi must demonstrate an emotion at least once a year.

  Three more racers exploded. We saw the plume of smoke from the last one in the air. Shmi let out a low moan and scanned the view screen. We leaned close, our eyes straining.

  Qui-Gon closed his eyes again and breathed.

  “There he is!” I screamed the words. Shmi collapsed against me.

  For the final lap, Anakin was neck and neck with Sebulba. Our throats were raw with cheering as he zoomed into the arena.

  The battle for first place was agonizing. Anakin gained it by faking an inside run, then zooming on the outside. Enraged, Sebulba began to smash his Podracer into Anakin’s, beating it relentlessly. Shmi reached for my hand. Anakin’s Podracer wasn’t built for this abuse. We knew that.

  Sebulba gained on the final stretch. Shmi’s hand squeezed mine until my bones came together. I didn’t even feel it.

  Suddenly, Anakin’s racer spun out of control. We gasped in terror. But the Podracer smashed into Sebulba’s, driving it into a large statue. Sebulba’s engine exploded in a fireball. Sebulba was catapulted out as the Podracer crash-landed. He was furious, but was immediately distracted when he realized that his pants were on fire.

  Then Anakin burst through the smoke and flame and crossed the finish line.

  It was incredible. Amazing. I screamed and laughed and jumped up and down. Not like a queen. Like a girl. At that moment, I was glad to be Padmé. She gives me freedom to do the things that the Queen cannot.

  LATER

  Even Qui-Gon looked excited. So the Jedi did have feelings, after all. We started down toward the hangar. Shmi ran ahead, her eyes streaming tears of joy… and relief.

  I gazed at the brawling, shouting crowd. Fights were already erupting over bets lost. Winners crowed. Anakin had been a long shot.

  “You’re just as much of a gambler, Qui-Gon,” I said. “Today luck was on your side.”

  “If you want to call it that,” Qui-Gon answered serenely. “Luck is just a word for a force you can’t explain.” His rugged features softened for a minute. His eyes twinkled. “Something you can’t see or touch has just helped you reach a goal, handmaiden. Do you believe in the unseen now?”

  I’d just like to know one thing. Why can’t you ever get the last word with a Jedi?

  When we got to the hangar, Anakin had just returned from being carried around the arena on the crowd’s shoulders. His hair was matted and his face was streaked with dirt. He flashed me a joyous grin.

  I hugged him close to me and told him I was proud of him. We owe him everything. At last, we could leave Tatooine!

  Watto had brought the part we needed to the arena, as he had promised Qui-Gon. There was nothing to keep us here.

  Qui-Gon loaded the parts on the eopie’s harness. He tied the last knot and turned to me. It was time to go.

  The joy faded from Anakin’s face. He looked at me, confused. I suppose that he hadn’t truly realized that by winning the race, we would leave.

  “Can’t you stay?” He looked hopeful.

  “I’m sorry, Anakin,” I said. “We must go. We’ve stayed too long. I won’t forget you.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  I climbed on the eopie behind Qui-Gon. Jar Jar struggled to stay on his. We started off.

  Qui-Gon turned to tell Shmi and Anakin that he would be back to return the eopies by midday.

  I wanted to turn, too. I wanted to say a last goodbye. I knew Anakin was waiting for me to turn back. But I looked forward. I could feel the girl Padmé slipping away and the Queen taking her place.

  Already my thoughts had turned to Coruscant. I was bursting to plead my case before the Senate. To see justice done. To see my people freed.

  Padmé would have looked back for a last goodbye.

  A Queen cannot.

  How long does it take to return two eopies? Qui-Gon has been gone all afternoon.

  He must have had another mission to accomplish. That’s my guess. If I were Queen Amidala, I’d send for him upon his return and give him a tongue-lashing. I can’t trust Sabé to be quite mean enough.

  I don’t think I can stand being on this planet for one more second. The faces I saw from the palace window on the morning of the invasion cry out to me, urging me to hurry.

  I can’t stand this. I feel so helpless. We’ve already wasted too much time here. It could already be too late. Not to mention that every minute we stay in one location, we place ourselves in danger.

  Even the normally inscrutable Obi-Wan looks annoyed. Why is Qui-Gon taking so long? What business could—

  LATER
<
br />   I had to interrupt my griping at Qui-Gon. Anakin burst in. I was so shocked to see him!

  He managed to gasp out that Qui-Gon was in trouble. They had met some creature on the way who challenged him. Someone sent by the Trade Federation, I’m sure. Qui-Gon was locked in a deadly battle with him.

  We moved fast. Ric Olié took the controls, and we took off. I took a seat in the cockpit. Flying low, we sped over the desert.

  At first we could only see a cloud of dust. Then I recognized the strong figure of Qui-Gon. He was battling a dark-caped figure with a horned head. I watched the acrobatic way he moved, the economy and power of his gestures. Any irritation I had ever felt for the Jedi left in a rush.

  I am fervently glad that Qui-Gon is on my side. Qui-Gon must have caught sight of us, though I didn’t see him turn his head. Suddenly, he leaped over his adversary. He landed on the ramp outside the ship.

  I gasped as the dark-cloaked figure leaped after him. Obi-Wan hurtled out of his seat and ran toward the loading area.

  I could only wait, every nerve screaming. Then the comlink crackled.

  “He’s safe,” Obi-Wan said.

  I sat rooted to my seat. That brief glimpse of the cloaked figure caused fear, brittle as ice, to strike my heart.

  That creature was not some Trade Federation goon or mercenary. Some great evil was working here. Something stronger than I’d imagined. I am sure of it.

  Are the stakes higher than even I have feared?

  LATER

  Sabé has told me that Sio Bibble sent a transmission while I was on Tatooine. He begged me to return to Naboo. The people are starving. The Federation has cut off all food supplies.

  Obi-Wan thinks the transmission is a trick to lure me back. Probably. But that doesn’t mean my people aren’t suffering. I had to wait until everyone was asleep before I sneaked out to the bridge to see the message for myself.

  The hologram was grainy and unclear. But Sio Bibble’s kind face cut to my heart. Trade Federation trick or not, the suffering on Naboo was written on every feature as he pleaded for me to return.

  At least he was still alive.

  Worry and anguish filled me. I felt trapped and paralyzed. And tired. So tired.

  At that moment, I heard a sound—an echo of the tears locked inside me. I thought I had conjured it from the air, but it was real.

  Anakin sat huddled in the corner, trembling. I crossed to him, and he looked up at me with tears in his eyes.

  “It’s very cold,” he said.

  I slipped out of my over-jacket and draped it around his shoulders. “You’re from a warm planet, Annie,” I said. “Space is cold.”

  But I knew it was more than cold. Qui-Gon’s bet with Watto had freed Anakin. He might even be allowed to train to be a Jedi. All of this was good. But he’d had to leave everything he loved behind.

  Anakin knew something was wrong in my heart, too. He always seems to know things. “You’re sad,” he told me.

  I chose my words carefully. “The Queen is worried. Everything depends on her appearance before the Senate. She doesn’t know if she has the power to change things. I’m not sure, either. I don’t know what will happen.”

  Anakin sighed. “I don’t know what will happen to me, either. And I don’t know if I’ll see you again.” He pulled a pendant out of his pocket and handed it to me. I turned it in my hand. The wood felt smooth and polished. I liked the feel of it in my palm.

  “I carved it out of a japor snippet,” he said. “It will bring you good fortune.”

  How funny. Those are almost exactly the words my father used when he handed me my amulet. I fastened Anakin’s pendant around my neck. It bumped softly against my breastbone. I touched it, and I felt the same sense of comfort and protection. Anakin has given me something more precious than he knows.

  I told him I didn’t need a necklace to remember him. Things would change when we got to Coruscant. But my caring for him would always remain.

  “I’ll always care for you, too,” Anakin said. “But I miss—” His voice faltered.

  “You miss your mother,” I said softly. “When we go forward, we miss the things we leave behind. That’s what makes our hearts so full.”

  A vision rose in my head of my family’s farm. Emerald-green fields dotted with yellow flowers. The rich scent of the earth. The strength of my father’s hands. The gentle way my mother braided my hair.

  I can’t lose those things. I won’t.

  So much lies ahead. So much danger. So much to do. But tonight, I had a moment to comfort someone else. It helped my fear. Maybe the worst fear is when you think you’re alone.

  Thanks to Anakin, I had a moment of peace. Sometimes, just one moment is enough.

  From space, Coruscant sparkles like a star. You think you must be approaching a world of silver and light.

  And you are, in a way. The main city of Coruscant long ago spread itself to take in the surrounding countryside. It grew with the wealth and power of the Republic until it covered the entire planet. Streams, rivers, and forests have all been covered over by layers of roads and buildings.

  The silver towers flash in the sun. It is a beautiful sight, but not a sight that I am used to.

  I thrive on the thousand greens of Naboo. I like to see the rivers run wild, and trees to spread their branches like dancers, and grasses to wave in the breeze.

  But Coruscant is the world I must adapt to. It is here that I must make my stand.

  When we arrived, Senator Palpatine and Supreme Chancellor Valorum himself met us at the spaceport. I took that as a good sign.

  The Chancellor told Sabé that everyone in the Senate was distressed about the situation on Naboo. I hope he means it. He’s called for a special session of the Senate so I can present my case.

  I had to wait until we reached Palpatine’s Senatorial quarters to switch places with Sabé. Here, no one will notice if Padmé disappears. And Sabé will shroud herself and fade into the background.

  As Sabé and I changed places, I thanked her for her courage and skill.

  “We all need courage now. You most of all,” Sabé answered and pressed my hand. There is a fierceness to her quiet ways. Her touch was gentle, but her eyes blazed. “I know you will see us through this, Queen Amidala.”

  Her faith gives me courage.

  I know Sabé is glad to help. But I sensed her relief when she donned her handmaiden’s cloak again. I’m relieved, too. At last, I can act. Everything we’ve done has led to this moment before the Senate.

  Senator Palpatine requested an audience so that we could go over strategies. It was good to see him again, and to confer with him. He’s always been one of my most trusted advisors. When those on the Council of Governors doubted my abilities, he always backed me. Together, we should be able to sway the Senate.

  To my surprise, Palpatine informed me that the Chancellor has been weakened by accusations of corruption. I had thought Chancellor Valorum still held his power base. The news that he is possibly weaker than I thought was distressing.

  “The accusations are baseless, but it doesn’t matter,” Palpatine told me with a worried frown. “It weakens him.”

  I considered this. Perhaps Palpatine was overestimating the scandal’s effects. I asked him what our options could be.

  “Our best choice is to push for the election of a new Supreme Chancellor,” he said. “Someone strong, an ally. He or she could take control again and force the Senate to act. We would have justice at last.” I didn’t like to hear that. Valorum has not been as effective as I would like, but he is still a strong ally for Naboo. “Is there no other way?” I asked Palpatine.

  “We could submit the matter to the courts…” he said, his voice trailing off.

  That ended it. The courts mean more delay. There’s no time left. Naboo is being devastated as I sit here, waiting. I will have to convince the Senate. There is no other way. Everything depends on that.

  LATER

  Anakin has come to see Pa
dmé. He thinks he will be entering Jedi training, and he came to say goodbye.

  He can’t say goodbye to Padmé, of course. I could only tell him, as Queen Amidala, that I knew Padmé’s heart went with him. He looked so sad when he nodded.

  I wish I could have given him a warmer goodbye.

  I don’t know why this boy has become so important to me, but he has.

  I’ve created a division in myself. There is the Queen, and there is Padmé. I am both of them, of course. But I find that I can only be one at a time.

  I wonder what it would be like to have no secrets. To be Padmé and Queen, together. Ruler and girl. Mind and heart.

  I wore my most regal robes and most complicated headdress. My face was powdered white, my lips deep crimson with the scar of remembrance. I wanted every single Senator to recognize the majesty of Naboo.

  The Senate building is enormous, many times bigger than the palace at Theed. Its halls are crowded with people and aliens from many worlds, Senators conferring, aides rushing by importantly, droids rolling by at fast speeds, anxious to complete an errand.

  Our little group was made up of Captain Panaka, my two handmaidens Eirtaé and Rabé, and Senator Palpatine. I wasn’t nervous. I was ready.

  The individual Senatorial boxes are docked at landing bays. When a member is recognized, the box floats to the center of the circular chamber. I saw the elegant white head of Chancellor Valorum in the center box.

  Palpatine was still pressing me to call for a vote of no confidence in Valorum. I hoped that after I spoke, the Senate would rise as a body and condemn the injustice of the invasion. A vote of no confidence would not be necessary.

  Palpatine began the proceeding by reminding the Senate of the outrageous action of the Trade Federation. Immediately, Lott Dod, the Senator for the Federation, zoomed forward in his box to object. Valorum did not recognize him, and Palpatine was able to continue.

  When Palpatine introduced me, I kept my posture perfectly erect, my chin high. I was not pleading. I was demanding that they do what was right. Here is what I said: