The green and blue blades hummed with barely contained energy, casting their ethereal glow across the reception room.
In the hands of Master and Padawan, they were extensions of will itself, weapons of precision and power.
The lightsaber, of course, was not exclusive to the Jedi.
Any being could ignite one. But only a Jedi, attuned to the Force, could truly unlock its potential.
At its heart lay a kyber crystal, a semi-sentient gem that focused energy into a plasma blade, contained within a tight magnetic field.
These crystals were naturally resistant to the dark side, a Sith could only force one to serve through domination and pain.
That was why Sith blades always burned red, the crystal's bleeding, its agony made manifest.
Garfield studied the two humming blades with undisguised curiosity. These weren't toys.
They weren't glow sticks or fairy wands.
A lightsaber could carve through battleship armor like a knife through butter.
The Master and Padawan moved with practiced unity, circling to flank him.
Garfield raised a paw and casually flicked two explosive orbs toward them. Snick-snick.
Both were bisected mid-flight by precise lightsaber strokes, dissipating harmlessly.
"Well," Garfield murmured, genuinely impressed, "that's a useful feature."
Obi-Wan's eyes blazed with confidence. "The Force guides our blade, creature. Your evil ends here!"
With that, he lunged. Qui-Gon flowed with him, the two moving as one, a whirlwind of humming plasma and relentless pressure.
Garfield raised a paw, and a shimmering golden shield bloomed before him.
Obi-Wan's blade crashed against it, and for a moment, the energy held.
But the lightsaber's destructive power was immense, and without continuous magical reinforcement, the shield began to fracture.
Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface before it shattered entirely, fragments of golden light dissolving into nothing.
Obi-Wan pressed his advantage.
On the other side, Qui-Gon pressed forward as well.
Garfield tossed out quick, improvisational spells, nothing serious, just enough to keep them honest and retreated step by step, drawing them deeper into the ship.
The battle was a spectacle of light and sound, humming blades, sparks cascading from bulkheads as errant strikes glanced off metal.
In the main control room, the Trade Federation viceroy and his aide watched the security feeds with slack-jawed disbelief.
They'd seen Jedi in action before. But a flying orange cat trading blows with two Knights?
Summoning shields and hurling magic? This was beyond anything in their experience.
Garfield, still retreating deliberately, led the Jedi toward the main control room.
A squad of Trade Federation battle droids stood guard outside, their cheap optical sensors tracking the approaching chaos.
The yellow-striped squad leader raised an arm, addressing his troops. "Prepare to assist the master!"
"Roger, roger," the squad chorused.
Garfield's sensitive ears caught every word.
A small smile played across his whiskered face as he used a shield spell to deflect another strike, then backpedaled smoothly behind the droid squad.
He pointed dramatically at the advancing Jedi.
"Attack! Pikachu, I choose you!"
The squad leader's optical sensor flickered in confusion. "Sir? I am a B1 battle droid, not a~"
Garfield waved a dismissive paw. "Details, details. Not that it matters, you won't last a minute anyway."
The squad leader had no time to process this insult. The Jedi were upon them.
Biubiubiu!
Red laser fire streaked toward Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. It was futile.
Their lightsaber blades became blurs of motion, deflecting bolts back into the squad.
In seconds, the hum of blades was replaced by the clatter of bisected droid parts hitting the deck.
Garfield watched the carnage with mild disappointment. Less than a minute, as predicted.
The Trade Federation's penny-pinching was truly astonishing.
All that wealth, and they equipped their army with glorified tin cans. Invest a little more, get something worthwhile.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk." He shook his head, stepping over a sparking droid torso. "Less than a minute. I'm almost never wrong."
Qui-Gon Jinn watched the strange creature, his brow furrowed.
It was becoming increasingly clear that this was no ordinary fight. Garfield had fought them with vigor, yes, but without a shred of true malice.
He hadn't been trying to win.
He had been toying with them, herding them.
And now, looking past the sparking droids, Qui-Gon saw the reinforced door to the main control room.
Of course. There might be more to this than meets the eye, Qui-Gon Jinn thought, as Garfield flew with him to the door of the main control room.
Inside, the timid and fearful Viceroy of the Trade Federation immediately issued an order: "Close the hatch."
Garfield's face darkened as he watched the hatch slide shut. These guys are truly something else.
Your supposed allies are fighting right outside the door, and you actually lock them out. Absolutely ridiculous.
In the main control room, the Viceroy clutched his chest, panting. "Thank goodness we closed the door in time, or they would have gotten in."
A lieutenant asked, "My lord, the envoy is still outside. What if something happens to him?"
"Dispatch two Destroyers."
Destroyers
The Trade Federation's elite combat units… massive, insectoid machines resembling giant cockroaches.
Armed with dual laser cannons and shielded by powerful defensive systems, they are impervious to small arms fire and require heavy ordnance like starfighter lasers or artillery to be disabled.
They are the Federation's trump card on any planetary surface.
Following the Viceroy's order, the control room promptly activated two Destroyers from the droid carrier.
Outside the main control room, Garfield hovered by the sealed door, turning to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.
"How about we discuss this calmly now?"
Obi-Wan sneered. "So you can launch a sneak attack?"
Garfield shook his head. "No. I'm offering you both a chance to surrender. This king will ensure you're treated well."
Qui-Gon's voice was steady. "A Jedi does not surrender."
Garfield sighed. "Then I'll have to subdue you myself."
Obi-Wan raised his blade. "Try it."
"Prepare yourself, Pikachu." Garfield smirked.
"It's Obi-Wan! Remember that name, you orange fiend, it's the name of the man who's going to defeat you!" Obi-Wan charged, lightsaber blazing.
Garfield flickered, leaving an afterimage as he apparated to the side. He raised a hand. "Disarm you."
"Expelliarmus!"
A flash of red light. Obi-Wan's lightsaber flew from his grasp.
But Garfield wasn't done. A golden rope shot from his hand, the "Golden Chord," as he'd recently named it and bound the tumbling Jedi mid-air.
Qui-Gon watched his Padawan subdued in an instant.
He extended his right hand, lightsaber at the ready, while his left reached out with the Force, attempting to free Obi-Wan.
Garfield wouldn't allow it. "Obstacles abound!"
A barrier of conjured debris appeared between them, followed by another spell. "Petrificus Totalus!"
Qui-Gon's body stiffened.
Though his Force defenses mitigated the full effect of the petrification curse, it still slowed his movements significantly.
Then Garfield raised his hand again. "Wingardium Leviosa."
The floating spell lifted Qui-Gon off the ground. Off-balance and encumbered, he couldn't react in time as Garfield cast once more.
"Expelliarmus!"
His lightsaber clattered to the floor.
Master and Padawan were both captured.
The two Destroyers finally arrived, their heavy footfalls echoing through the corridor.
They surveyed the scene but, seeing no immediate threat to their principals, held their fire.
Inside the control room, the Viceroy had watched the entire confrontation through the viewport.
His mouth hung open.
"Incredible... such strange powers..."
"I never imagined two Jedi Knights could be defeated so easily."
His lieutenant leaned in. "My lord, perhaps we should let the king inside now?"
The Viceroy blinked, then nodded hastily. "Open the door! Quickly!"
Garfield floated into the main control room, leading the bound Jedi master and apprentice behind him like marionettes.
He twirled Qui-Gon's captured lightsaber idly between his fingers, examining it with casual interest.
The Viceroy rushed forward, eyes wide with a mix of awe and relief. "King Garfield! That was... astonishing!"
Garfield shot him a flat, unimpressed look.
Then he gestured toward the viewport, where the green and blue world of Naboo rotated slowly against the black of space.
"Save the flattery. Just execute the plan."