Chapter 230 Senate Summons!

Chapter 230 Senate Summons!

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Anakin turned to look at Peter, confused. “Others? You mean—”

Before he could finish, the heavy hiss of a doorway cut through the silence. Two towering security droids entered the room, flanking a hovering platform upon which sat a figure that sent a chill down Anakin’s spine.

Darth Maul.

His red-and-black tattooed face was twisted into a permanent scowl, yellow eyes glaring with simmering fury. The Zabrak’s torso sat atop the hover-platform, limbless and restrained by faintly glowing containment rings. His hatred seemed to roll off him in waves, a smothering presence that made the room feel smaller.

Anakin instinctively took a step back, his voice catching. “Who—who is that?”

Peter, unbothered, crossed his arms and smirked. “Anakin Skywalker, meet Darth Maul. My prisoner... and my apprentice.”

Anakin’s head whipped toward Peter in shock. “What?! He’s your apprentice?! But he doesn’t—”

“—have arms or legs? Yeah, I know.” Peter shrugged, his tone casual as though they were discussing the weather. “That’s because I cut them off the day we met.”

Anakin’s eyes widened further as he turned back to the glowering Sith. “You... you fought him?”

Maul’s growl rumbled low in his throat, his burning gaze locked onto Peter. “And he cheated.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Peter replied dryly, ignoring the accusation.

Anakin’s brow furrowed. “So... you’re keeping him prisoner?”

“For now,” Peter said, straightening up. “But I’m also giving him a shot at redemption. I’m working on some shiny new cybernetic limbs for him as well.” Peter smirked and looked directly at Maul. “But he’s got to pass a test first.”

For the first time, Maul’s fiery eyes widened in surprise. “A test?”

Peter nodded, his voice calm but firm. “That’s right. A test to prove you’re ready.”

“I am ready!” Maul snapped, his growl filled with frustration. “You think I enjoy rotting in this state, clinging to scraps of power?!”

Peter held up a hand, cutting him off. “Nope. You’re not ready. I can still feel your loyalty to your former master, Maul. You hold onto his teachings like they’re a lifeline. If I gave you those limbs now, you’d just go crawling back to him.”

Maul’s snarl deepened, his hover-platform trembling faintly as his rage simmered. “You underestimate me.”

Peter shook his head, unbothered. “No, I just know you too well.”

Anakin stood rooted to the spot, torn between awe and unease as he stared at the Sith. “Isn’t he dangerous?”

Peter glanced at Maul and smirked. “Oh, yeah. He’s very dangerous. But you have nothing to worry about.” Peter stepped back, turning toward the center of the room. “Now, don’t mind him, kid. He’s grumpy today. Happens when you lose to someone cooler than you.”

Maul’s glare could have burned through metal, but he said nothing.

Before Anakin could process anything, the air in the room shimmered. A bright, golden light spiraled into existence near the far side of the training hall, forming a perfect circular portal that pulsed faintly with energy.

Anakin jumped, his eyes going wide as he grabbed Peter’s arm. “What—what’s happening?!”

A figure stepped gracefully through the glowing portal. She moved with a confidence that seemed almost otherworldly, her golden robes flowing as though caught in an unseen breeze. The Ancient One’s serene, knowing smile settled on Peter first, her sharp eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Master,” she greeted, bowing deeply with a faint smirk on her lips.

Anakin’s jaw dropped. She bowed to Peter? She called him “Master?!”

The Ancient One’s gaze shifted to Anakin, who was staring at her in wide-eyed awe. She tilted her head slightly, her expression softening into something warm and welcoming.

“And who is this?”

Anakin stammered, his voice caught somewhere between nerves and awe. “I-I’m Anakin... Anakin Skywalker.”

Peter stepped in smoothly, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Ancient One, meet Anakin. Anakin, meet the Ancient One, your fellow apprentice.”

The Ancient One inclined her head to Anakin, her voice gentle. “It is a pleasure to meet you, young Skywalker.”

Anakin swallowed nervously. “You’re... you’re Star-Lords apprentice too?”

The Ancient One smiled faintly. “Yes. I am.”

Anakin’s brow furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask more questions, Peter clapped his hands together. “Alright, introductions are over. Let’s get to work.” He gestured toward Anakin. “From now on, the kid here will be joining us for training. So, play nice.”

Darth Maul immediately let out a derisive snarl. “Training?” His yellow eyes burned with frustration, his mechanical platform humming as it shifted slightly. “You dare call what we do here training? What have you taught us exactly? Because the only thing I’ve learned here is how to wriggle on the floor like a worm.”

Anakin blinked, his gaze darting between Maul’s hover-platform and Peter.

Maul wasn’t finished. He jutted his chin toward the Ancient One, who stood calmly with her hands folded behind her back. “And the bald sorceress over there has done nothing but run laps like some brainless soldier. If I were her, I’d have killed you for wasting my time like this...”

The Ancient One arched a single brow, though she didn’t argue. Instead, she gave the faintest, almost imperceptible nod of agreement. Since taking Peter as her master in the art of the Force, their sessions had been unconventional at best—and utterly confusing at worst.

“And now,” Maul continued, his voice dripping with venom, “you bring a child to join this farce? Truly, this is the pinnacle of your ‘training.’”

Peter turned toward Maul, utterly unfazed. He let the Zabrak’s rant settle in the air for a moment before his lips curled into that trademark smirk of his. “You think I’m wasting your time?”

Maul glared at him, hatred practically radiating from his restrained form. “You are wasting our time.”

Peter just shrugged, the smug grin never leaving his face. “Then let’s mix things up today. We’ll take a break from the exercises, and instead...” He paused, letting the anticipation build as he looked between all three of them. “...we’ll have a lecture about the Force.”

Maul’s scoff echoed through the chamber. “A lecture? You intend to bore us to death instead?”

“Hey, no one’s making you stay,” Peter said casually, unbothered. “I can always send you back to your cell if you’d prefer some quality time in solitary confinement.” He paused, his gaze steady as Maul flinched, remaining silent. “That’s what I thought.”

The Ancient One tilted her head slightly, her interest piqued despite herself. Maul said nothing more, though his glare suggested he was only humoring Peter because he had no other choice.

After all, it was either this or a dark empty cell...

Peter gestured for everyone to gather near the center of the hall. Anakin followed eagerly, eyes wide with curiosity, while Maul’s platform floated begrudgingly closer. The Ancient One took a seat on a nearby bench, her serene composure unshaken.

Peter grabbed a glowing training staff from the rack, spinning it absentmindedly as he spoke. “Alright, let’s start with the basics. What is the Force?”

Anakin’s hand shot up instinctively, like he was in school. “It’s... what the Jedi use to fight.”

Peter nodded approvingly. “Yeah, that’s what most people think. Though the Force can be used for more than just fighting.” He added before continuing his lecture. “The Jedi see the Force as something to be followed, to serve the light and bring peace. To them, it’s all about discipline, self-denial, and keeping their emotions in check.”

Anakin frowned. “But... isn’t that good?”

Peter pointed at him with the staff. “Sometimes, yeah. But it’s also their weakness. By rejecting their emotions, the Jedi limit themselves. They deny part of what makes them human.”

Maul’s voice cut in, sharp and mocking. “And what of the Sith?” He asked, expecting a better assessment of his side of the force.

“Well—“

“Wait... what’s a Sith?” As Peter tried to respond, Anakin’s small voice cut through the exchange.

The question landed like a stone, silencing the room. Maul’s gaze snapped toward the boy, though Peter quickly stepped in to answer. He crouched slightly so he could look Anakin in the eye.

“The Sith,” Peter began, his voice calm but deliberate, “are like the opposite of the Jedi. They use the Force too, but not like the Jedi do. The Sith embrace their anger, their hatred, and their fear. They think those emotions make them strong—and for a while, they do. But it comes at a very big cost.”

Anakin’s brow furrowed as he tried to process this. “So... they’re bad?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, kid. They’re bad. They let their power control them instead of the other way around.”

Anakin glanced nervously at Maul, who stared back at him with piercing, unblinking eyes. “Is he... a Sith?”

Peter didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” he said evenly. “But he’s my apprentice now, which means we’re working on that.”

Maul scoffed, glaring at Peter. “You think you can ‘fix’ me?”

Peter smirked. “That’s the idea. And if you stop whining for two minutes, you might actually learn something.”

Anakin stifled a laugh. Maul, however, growled low in his throat, the yellow in his eyes flaring briefly.

Peter pressed on. “To answer your question, Maul—the Sith are no better than the Jedi. If anything, they’re worse,” he said, ignoring the look of disbelief that followed. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. History speaks for itself. The last conflict between the Jedi and the Sith has made the outcome clear: who the victors are and who the defeated remain. Even a Sith as stubborn as you can see that.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice steady. “You cling to rage, hatred, and fear, believing they make you stronger. And in a way, they do—but they also consume you. You can’t wield power from only one side of the emotional spectrum. Rage must be tempered with serenity. Hatred needs to be balanced by compassion. And fear? Fear only has meaning when you pair it with courage. Without that balance, you’re not stronger—you’re broken.”

The Ancient One finally spoke, her voice calm and measured. “The Jedi reject. The Sith indulge.”

“Exactly,” Peter said, snapping his fingers in approval. “Two sides of the same coin, trapped in an endless cycle. Jedi and Sith. Light and dark. Neither one of them gets it.”

Anakin’s brow furrowed as he tried to process Peter’s words. “Then... what’s the answer?”

Peter paused, looking each of them in the eye. “The Force isn’t just light or dark. It’s everything. It’s life, death, creation, destruction—it’s balance.”

The word hung in the air, resonating with weight.

Peter continued, his voice quieter now. “For years now, I’ve walked a different path—a balanced path. I’ve learned that the Force doesn’t want you to reject your emotions or let them consume you. It wants you to understand them. To accept every part of yourself—the good and the bad—so you can be whole.”

Anakin’s eyes lit up with curiosity, his mind buzzing. “So... everyone else is wrong?”

In balance with chaos and harmony,

Immortal in the Force...”

The room fell silent, Peter’s words resonating in the air.

Anakin stared at him, his young mind processing each line. “What does it mean?”

Peter crouched again, meeting Anakin’s eyes. “It means that the Force isn’t light or dark. It’s both. And if you want to master it, you can’t ignore half of who you are. You can’t shut out your emotions like the Jedi or let them control you like the Sith. You accept everything—your light, your darkness, your strengths, and your fears.”

The Ancient One smiled faintly, her eyes filled with understanding. “A truly wonderful path.”

Peter nodded. “Isn’t it?” He straightened and gestured for everyone to close their eyes. “Now, sit still. Breathe. Reach out with your senses and feel. The Force is all around you—guiding you, connecting you to everything.”

Anakin eagerly closed his eyes, his breathing quick at first but slowly evening out as he focused.

Maul grumbled but begrudgingly obeyed.

Peter stood back and watched them, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He knew it wouldn’t be easy for any of them—not for Anakin, not for Maul, and not even for the Ancient One. But this was the first step.

The path of balance was not an easy one, but it was the only one worth walking.

...

Peter leaned back against a weapon rack, arms crossed, watching the three of them with an odd sense of satisfaction. He had started something here—something new.

‘A school,’ he thought, the idea flickering in his mind. ‘That’s what this is. A school of the Force.’

Peter’s brow furrowed slightly as he gazed into the distance. “But what do I call it?” he muttered under his breath.

The Jedi had their Order. The Sith... well, they were Sith. But this? This was something different. Something built not on dogma, but on freedom, understanding, and strength.

Peter’s smirk returned as he glanced at the three. “I’ll figure it out,” he said quietly to himself, the spark of an idea beginning to form.

For now, it was enough that they were here, taking their first steps toward something greater.

(A/N: Any ideas for a name?)

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Naboo, Royal Palace...

The golden sunlight of Naboo filtered gently through the palace windows, casting soft shadows across the gleaming marble floors. The throne room, once filled with chaos and strife during the occupation, was now bustling with the orderly hum of governance.

Queen Padmé Amidala sat on her ornate throne, her expression focused and regal as she reviewed the various affairs of her recovering planet. Advisors and officials surrounded her, providing reports on rebuilding efforts, trade negotiations, and resource distribution.

“Your Majesty,” one advisor said, bowing deeply. “The southern districts report significant progress, though they are requesting additional construction droids to expedite the repairs.”

Padmé nodded. “See to it that their needs are met. Allocate additional resources if necessary.”

The advisor bowed again, stepping back. Padmé’s calm but decisive leadership brought a steady rhythm to the proceedings, but beneath the surface, her thoughts were elsewhere.

Peter.

She couldn’t stop thinking about him—the man who had helped save her planet but had left her with so many questions. His face. His words. His secrets.

Before her thoughts could wander further, the room was suddenly interrupted by the soft, high-pitched chime of an incoming transmission. The hologram projector at the center of the room flickered to life, glowing faint blue as a figure emerged.

An official in the uniform of the Galactic Senate stood tall, his expression formal and impassive.

“Queen Amidala of Naboo,” the hologram intoned, bowing slightly. “By order of the Galactic Senate, you are hereby summoned to appear before the Senate on Coruscant to provide testimony regarding the recent occupation of your planet by the Trade Federation.”

The room fell silent, the weight of the announcement hanging heavy in the air.

The hologram continued. “Additionally, the Senate requests the presence of the individual known as Star-Lord to answer questions regarding his role in the conflict and his activities on Naboo.”

Padmé’s expression tightened ever so slightly, though her voice remained calm. “Understood. When are we expected to arrive?”

“Immediately, Your Majesty,” the official replied. “We look forward to your compliance.”

The hologram flickered and vanished, leaving the throne room in uneasy silence.

Padmé sat still for a long moment, her gaze distant as she processed the summons. Slowly, she stood, her voice steady as she addressed her advisors.

“Prepare my ship. And contact Star-Lord at once...”

A/N: 3409 words :