The Defender-class light corvette touched down on the Senate Landing Platform with a low hum, its landing struts hissing as they locked into place. A light wind swept across the polished durasteel surface, carrying with it the ever-present buzz of traffic lanes high above.
The boarding ramp extended smoothly with a hiss of hydraulics. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon descended first, robes flowing as they approached the waiting party with composed grace. Jar Jar followed awkwardly, and little Anakin walked stiffly beside him, glancing nervously between the towering buildings around them.
Seeing the Jedi bow, Jar Jar fumbled to mimic them, and Anakin, after a second of hesitation, also gave a respectful nod.
Senator Palpatine stood at the forefront, hands calmly folded, dressed in his usual finely tailored robes—beside him, Chancellor Valorum watched quietly, expression unreadable but mildly strained.
A beat later, the Queen's party emerged. Padmé, now clad in her formal royal attire—elegant, regal, and unmistakably Queen Amidala—descended the ramp with Captain Panaka at her right and Sabé in handmaiden garb trailing a step behind, her posture alert despite the disguise.
Then came the last pair. Jin-Woo walked with calm certainty behind the Queen, hands in his pockets, gaze forward and impassive. Beside him, Morgan's stride matched his—measured, elegant, and slightly aloof. neither bowed, neither slowed.
As their boots touched the durasteel, Morgan's voice whispered into Jin-Woo's mind ."I already made sure Rey, Talon, and Elena are staying on the ship. Until we deal with this mess."
Jin-Woo's reply came just as quietly, but sharper in presence. "Good. Thank you, Morgan."
At the platform's edge, waiting under the formal banners of the Republic, Senator Palpatine stood beside Supreme Chancellor Valorum. His eyes flicked over the Queen's retinue—then paused.
She's not using the double, Palpatine thought, faintly surprised. That's… bold. The Padmé I knew would've hidden behind Sabé for protection. But now , her eyes—they're different. Smarter. More defiant.
He didn't like that. Jin-Woo, he mused darkly, you really are the thorn I must pluck. The most dangerous variable. Purple England has strangled some of my economic proxies. And the rumors of my condition… haven't faded.
But Palpatine's face was composed, the smooth mask of a caring statesman. He stepped forward, inclining his head slightly. "It is a great gift to see you alive, Your Majesty," he said with practiced warmth. "May I present Supreme Chancellor Valorum."
Valorum stepped up immediately, his expression caught somewhere between genuine concern and political exhaustion. "Welcome, Your Highness," he said with a nod. "I believe this is our second meeting in person. I must relay to you how distressed everyone is over the current situation. I've called for a special session of the Senate to hear your position."
Padmé didn't falter. Her voice rang clear—measured and authoritative. "I am grateful for your concern, Chancellor," she said, "however, as this is indeed our second meeting, I must ask—why has the Republic still failed to send security forces? Must we continue to rely solely on Senate bureaucracy while my people suffer?"
Palpatine's expression didn't change, but his eyes drifted toward Jin-Woo again. She's backed by something, he thought. Or someone. That much is clear.
His fingers flexed slightly at his side. And that something… is standing right next to her. Or rather, someone I don't understand. I still know so little about Jin-Woo.. That he possesses tremendous physical strength… that his midichlorian count is zero…
Palpatine's thoughts darkened, however he stopped Maul's lightsaber with a mere glare. A glare. What am I missing?
Palpatine's took a calming breath and turned back to Padmé, his voice smooth and diplomatic. "Your Majesty, I'm sorry to say that although we're in a difficult position, the Senate's questions—and democracy itself—must be upheld. But I assure you, I remain confident that together we can overcome this crisis."
Padmé blinked once, her spine straight. But then, a flicker of realization touched her. She was acting too much like Jin-Woo had warned her not to. Her expression softened slightly as she dipped her head. "Yes, Senator. Thank you for your encouragement."
The group made their way to the waiting air taxi. Most of them boarded—Padmé, Captain Panaka, Sabé, Jar Jar, Anakin, and Morgan. Only four remained behind on the platform: Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Chancellor Valorum… and Jin-Woo.
Qui-Gon turned to Valorum with urgency in his voice. "Chancellor, I must speak with the Jedi Council at once. The situation has grown far more complicated than we ever imagined."
Valorum's eyes were tired. "The situation has already been complicated… more than most Senators are willing to admit." His gaze shifted to the quiet figure standing nearby. "But I believe this is the first time we've met face to face, Jin-Woo. Leader of the Purple England Company, if I'm not mistaken. I've heard your company provides high-quality resources—at surprisingly fair prices."
Jin-Woo nodded once, hands in his coat pockets. "The first step to building any lasting relationship with a client," he said calmly, "is to empathize with what they're facing."
Qui-Gon took a careful step closer, his expression unreadable. "Jin-Woo," he said, "I need you to come with me. To speak with the Jedi Council. What we encountered… it demands context. And clarity."
Chancellor Valorum raised a brow, his tone edging on disbelief. "I'm surprised to hear that the Jedi Order requires a report from an outsider—a merchant, no less."
Qui-Gon didn't flinch. "What we encountered might be a threat to the galaxy itself, Chancellor.
Jin-Woo offered a faint smirk, then shook his head. "I believe you'll do just fine with the recording I gave you, Qui-Gon. You're more persuasive than you think."
Without waiting for rebuttal, Jin-Woo turned and stepped toward the waiting air taxi, slipping into the seat beside Morgan.
Qui-Gon watched silently as the door slid closed. The repulsorlifts engaged with a hum, and the sleek taxi rose from the platform, lifting high into the air toward the Senate Rotunda.
-30 Minutes Later – Palpatine's Quarter, Living Area-
The room was draped in high decorum and subtle shadows. Senators and delegates sat in polished seating, quiet voices weaving political tension. But Jin-Woo and Morgan, as usual, remained apart—choosing instead to lean casually against the curved wall like specters at the edge of the storm.
Just beyond, in the anteroom, sat the two least ceremonial beings of the party.
Jar Jar Binks fidgeted, eyes shifting. "Dissen all pity odd to my," he muttered, ears twitching.
Anakin, seated with his legs swinging off the edge of a low bench, sighed. "Don't look at me. I don't know what's going on either. Though… I wish my mom could see this."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a gentle pulse of silver light shimmered in the corner.
The Daughter appeared. She manifested silently, with an elegance only the Force itself could deliver—and standing beside her was Shmi Skywalker, unharmed and serene.
Anakin blinked, then beamed. "White lady! You've got a knack for showing up whenever you want."
The Daughter raised a pale brow. "I have a name, boy. It's the Daughter, not 'white lady.'" She gestured slightly behind her. "And I brought your mother. You seem to have… attachment issues."
Anakin bolted forward and hugged Shmi tightly. "Mom!"
Shmi smiled gently, her hand brushing through his hair. Then her gaze shifted to the Daughter—firmer, more guarded. "Please… be patient with him," she said softly. "Ani is still just a boy. He's not the 'Chosen One' you always talk about."
The Daughter said nothing. Her eyes, however, drifted beyond them—to the far wall, where Jin-Woo stood in still silence.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
At the center of the opulent quarters .
Palpatine folded his hands, his voice laden with measured disappointment."The Republic is not what it once was," he began solemnly. "The Senate is full of greedy, squabbling delegates who care only for themselves and their home systems. There is no interest in the common good… no civility, only politics. It's disgusting."
He exhaled as if burdened by the weight of the truth. "I must be frank, Your Majesty. There is little chance the Senate will act on the invasion."
Padmé, seated with regal poise, tilted her head just slightly. "Chancellor Valorum seems to think there is still hope."
Palpatine gave a slight, knowing nod. "If I may say so, Your Majesty… the Chancellor has little real power. He is mired in baseless accusations of corruption—engineered, of course. A manufactured scandal surrounds him." He leaned forward, his tone turning sharper. "The bureaucrats are in charge now."
A silence followed before Padmé asked the inevitable. "Then what options do we have?" she said,
Palpatine's expression remained composed, but a flicker of calculation passed through his eyes. "Our best choice," he said carefully, "would be to push for the election of a stronger Supreme Chancellor. One who can rein in the bureaucrats, enforce the law… and deliver justice. You, Your Majesty, could call for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum."
Padmé's gaze didn't waver. Her voice was calm, but laced with something deeper—awareness. "Senator Palpatine," she said, "how will your suggestion change the actual condition of Naboo? It feels as if these events were set in motion by some… hidden hand. ."
Palpatine did not respond immediately. He simply looked at her. You're growing smarter… . His thoughts stirred with unease. Damn that Jin-Woo. Too unpredictable.
Palpatine gave a slow nod, voice lowered like a coiled rope. "You feel something deeper because you're right to feel it. But peace… is not preserved by silence. It must be demanded.. A vote of no confidence isn't treason—it's a call. A cry for stability. For the very principles the Republic was built upon." He let the words hang just long enough before continuing."This crisis reveals what the galaxy has ignored for too long. Naboo suffers first… but it will not be the last. If we act now—publicly, decisively—we may stop the next world from being broken. Let Naboo's pain awaken the Senate."
Padmé offered no immediate reply—her face unreadable, perfectly still.
But inside, something turned. She remembered Jin-Woo's words: Question his decisions. Make him believe you doubt me. Let him think I have no choice.
She turned slightly, eyes drifting toward Jin-Woo. "…Jin-Woo," she said aloud, "is Senator Palpatine's suggestion the correct path? Should I call for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum?"
Jin-Woo didn't flinch. His hands stayed in his coat pockets as he spoke in a dry, unconcerned tone. "Right now, the dementia senator is corre—"
Palpatine snapped, his composure cracking . "Can you stop calling me 'dementia'!? I'm fine. Very fine. After my medication. Lots of pills."
Jin-Woo blinked once, then shrugged casually. "Okay, no need to get angry. Stress might make your hair fall out. But… yes. Senator Palpatine's choice is already correct. If Valorum refuses to act, the Trade Federation will occupy Naboo for as long as they please."
Palpatine sighed outwardly, appearing somber. But inside? Excellent. Even he doesn't have a move left .
Except Jin-Woo did. His gaze drifted slightly to Padmé, the weight behind his stare hidden under indifference.
There was another option, he recalled. One we discussed before coming to Coruscant.
But it was drastic. Too drastic.
Padmé could feel it too.
Her thoughts stirred.
Independence. Declare Naboo a sovereign world—cut ties with the Republic entirely…If we do that, we lose all protection .
She clenched her jaw slightly, saying nothing. Instead, she looked out the wide transparisteel window, catching sight of Anakin and Jar Jar.
But then… something felt off. Her gaze sharpened. Two more figures stood outside the anteroom now—definitely not there before.
Shmi Skywalker. And the Daughter. Captain Panaka's hand instinctively went to his blaster, stepping forward with soldier's precision.
He narrowed his eyes. "How did you both get in here? This place is inside the Senatorial Rotunda—secured level!"
Jin-Woo didn't even glance. His arms stayed crossed as he replied, deadpan: "Put your blaster down, Panaka. That's probably her shut-in ability. She can sneak like a NEET."
In a blink of light and silence, the Daughter appeared directly beside Jin-Woo, . She glared at him. "Say 'shut-in' or 'NEET' again," she hissed, barely keeping her voice level. "Yeah—I know you've been calling me that behind my back, invader."
Jin-Woo tilted his head toward her, completely unfazed. A slow smile played on his lips. Perfect, he thought. This might just ease the tension in the room. Out loud, he said with mock innocence, "I'm surprised you even know the meaning of NEET."
Before the Daughter could retort,
Morgan folded her arms and added fuel to the fire, voice silky and sharp. "Not in education, employment, or training. That's practically all of you Mortis beings, isn't it? A bunch of shut-ins. Waste of cosmic space."
The Daughter's eye twitched. A vein popped visibly on her temple—just like something out of a comic strip. She glared at both of them as they smiled back at her, insufferably calm.
Palpatine, standing to the side, raised an eyebrow. His eyes flicked to the white-cloaked being and narrowed slightly. Who is this…? That woman—she radiates like a Force user, no, like a wound in the Force. Stronger than most Jedi, perhaps even as powerful as Master Plagueis… or maybe even like that Yogumunt I once encountered months ago…
Palpatine cleared his throat and stepped forward, trying to maintain dignity. "May I introduce myself?" Palpatine said smoothly. "My name is Sheev Palpa—"
The Daughter snapped around in a blur, her voice cutting like a blade. "Shut up! Let me deal with these two invaders! Third-string politicians have no place here."
Palpatine froze mid-step.And immediately, instinctively, he stopped speaking. His lips clamped shut, his spine stiff. But—this is my apartment, he thought helplessly.
Morgan turned slightly and gave Palpatine a sidelong glare, bored and cutting. "Shut up."
Palpatine raised his hands slightly, flustered. "But—I didn't say anything after that lady told me to be quiet—"
Jin-Woo sighed, annoyed, and looked at Palpatine with the expression of a detective about to close a file. "You're thinking again, And your thoughts are annoying."
Panaka stepped closer to Padmé, voice low but firm. "Your Majesty, should I escort those three out of the room?"
Padmé gave a soft shake of her head, her tone oddly relaxed. "Let them be. In fact… this is helping. A little icebreaker before the Senate meeting."
Palpatine leaned in, voice a hushed whisper barely audible. "Your Majesty, I urge caution. Please… don't get too close to Jin-Woo. You might go insane too."
Padmé didn't answer with words—just a smile, sweet and unreadable. Then she pointed subtly, one finger raised toward the far side of the room.
Palpatine turned. And there they were: Jin-Woo, Morgan, and the Daughter—staring straight at him with deadpan expressions. All three had raised one eyebrow in unison. The look was judgmental.
Palpatine's eyes twitched. He threw up both hands in surrender. " This old man won't speak. Won't even think. Not until the Senate session begins."