Chương 20: 18. Taking Control.
===Nira===
As the heavy doors of the Jedi Council chamber slid closed behind them after Qui-Gon walked in, Anakin and Nira stood in the silence of the hallway. The stone walls seemed to press in on them, the weight of the trial still lingering in the air. Anakin's jaw was clenched, his fists trembling at his sides. He could feel the sting of the Council's words—their disappointment, their judgment. He wanted to shout, to lash out, but he didn't. Instead, he stood there, barely able to contain the storm of emotions swirling within him.
Nira, her head lowered, stared at the ground, her heart heavy with self-doubt. She had felt the Council's eyes on her, saw the look of concern—or was it pity?—in their faces as she faltered. She knew she hadn't measured up. The Force had felt distant, like a whisper just out of reach, and the more she tried to grasp it, the further it slipped away. Was it enough? she wondered, Am I enough?
Anakin glanced over at her, his anger momentarily giving way to something softer—understanding, maybe. She was struggling too. He could see it in the way she walked, the weight in her posture. He knew what it was like to feel like you were constantly falling short, no matter how hard you tried.
"Hey," Anakin said, his voice low but earnest, breaking the silence between them. Nira didn't look up right away, but she could hear the change in his tone—there was no anger, no superiority. Just… something else. He hesitated before continuing. "You did fine in there. Don't let them get to you."
Nira's eyes flicked up to meet his for a brief moment, and then she looked away again. "Did I? I barely answered half the questions correctly," she murmured, her voice thick with the weight of her disappointment. "I couldn't even feel the Force when it counted."
"You're not the only one who felt like that," Anakin said, stepping closer. He wasn't sure what made him want to comfort her—maybe it was the fact that she seemed to understand the weight of the trial in the same way he did. "I didn't want them to see what I'm really like. I've got… stuff I'm dealing with too. Stuff they don't understand." His voice grew quieter as he spoke, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face.
Nira tilted her head, looking at him with a mix of curiosity and empathy. She could see the storm of emotions behind his eyes, the way he fought to keep it all contained. She had felt the same way—like there was a part of her that she couldn't show anyone. Something darker, something that made her feel out of place.
"I get it," Nira said softly. "You're not alone, Anakin. We both have things we need to work through. But… maybe that doesn't mean we can't make it."
Anakin looked at her, surprised by the sincerity in her voice. He had expected her to be more distant, to retreat into herself after the trial. But instead, she was standing here with him, offering words of encouragement. It was... strange, but comforting.
"Yeah," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a small, rare smile. "Maybe. If they let us in, we'll be in this together, right?"
Nira nodded slowly, feeling a warmth she hadn't expected. "Right. We'll look out for each other. We may not be perfect, but we can help each other get through it. I've got your back, Anakin. I won't let you fall."
Anakin's eyes softened, the intensity of the trial slowly fading as the bond between them began to form—a quiet understanding, unspoken but deeply felt. He had never thought he'd find someone who could relate to his fears, his pain. Someone who, like him, was struggling to find their place in a world that expected perfection.
"You're not alone either, Nira," Anakin said, his voice steady now, his confidence returning. "I'll look out for you, too. Whatever happens, we're in this together."
For a moment, they stood there, the weight of their shared promise hanging in the air. It wasn't much—just two young children who had seen their vulnerabilities exposed to the Jedi Council—but it was enough. They had each other now, and that gave them something to hold onto.
Nira looked up at him, her emerald eyes brighter than they had been moments before. "We'll both make it, Anakin. You'll see."
Anakin smiled, a genuine expression that felt strange and yet comforting. "I hope so, Nira. I really do."
And as they turned to walk down the hall together, side by side, their shared promise seemed to echo through the empty corridors of the Jedi Temple. Whatever lay ahead, they knew they would face it not as strangers, but as friends—bound together by the struggles, fears, and hopes that united them both.
===Maximus===
"I don't know what to do now," Padmé said, gazing out the window at the sprawling cityscape of Coruscant.
She turned toward Maximus, who had removed his helmet and was also staring out at the hive city. "I'm... afraid. Tell me, what should I do?" she asked, her voice fragile.
Maximus's jaw tightened as he exhaled slowly. He turned to her, his deep voice echoing through the penthouse. "You know what you should do," he said simply.
"You need to stop listening to the politicians. Get back to Naboo, put down your white flag, and pick up a gun. But most importantly, you need to trust me. Trust my Brothers. Let me take control."
Padmé met his gaze, her eyes searching his hollow, almost vacant ones. She saw the weight of all he had endured, yet his strength remained unwavering. "And what would you do, if I gave you control?" she asked, her voice quiet but tinged with curiosity.
Maximus snorted softly, his gaze returning to the city beyond the window. "You really have to ask?" he replied, his tone low but firm. "I'd go to war, just as the Emperor wills it. I would go to war, Padmé. And I would never stop."
Padmé stood still, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a storm cloud. Her gaze shifted from Maximus to the sprawling cityscape outside the window, where the sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue across the gleaming towers of Coruscant. She could see the chaos, the distant hum of transports and ships. Somewhere deep within her, a part of her heart clenched. The world she had always fought to protect was slipping away, just like the people she loved—one by one, slipping into the abyss of conflict.
She turned back to him, her brow furrowed. "You make it sound so simple," she said, her voice wavering slightly. "Like I should just give in to the darkness. To the fight. But I don't want war, Maximus. I never have."
Maximus's expression remained hard, his eyes distant, the coldness of years of service in every line of his face. But there was something else behind his gaze—something deeper. He wasn't indifferent, not exactly. His words came slowly, measured, as though choosing them carefully.
"War isn't about what you want, Padmé," he said, his voice steady, but with a quiet intensity. "War is what happens when peace becomes too fragile to survive. And right now, peace is a lie." He took a small step closer, the soft clank of his armor a reminder of the years he had spent in service. But his eyes softened just a fraction. "I know it's not easy. But this isn't about what you want—it's about what we need to survive."
Padmé swallowed, her chest tightening as she absorbed his words. It wasn't that she didn't understand. It wasn't that she didn't know the reality of the galaxy. She did. She had seen the suffering, the destruction. She had fought for diplomacy, for life. But Maximus was right about one thing: peace had never lasted. Every day, she felt herself pulled further into a web of deception, of impossible choices.
"But I've spent my entire life standing for something different," Padmé replied, her voice trembling but resolute. "I can't just abandon everything I've ever stood for. I can't fight in the way you're asking me to. It's not who I am."
Maximus's gaze softened slightly as he gazed back down at her. He looked at her for a moment longer, as if weighing his next words. "Then you need to remember who you were, Padmé," he said, his voice quieter now, but resolute. "The galaxy needs leaders who will fight for something, not just survive. Someone has to stand against the darkness. The Emperor needs those who will make the hard decisions. And if you cant do that, you have to be willing to release control to someone who will. If we don't fight for what's right, humanity will lose more than just its ideals—we'll lose everything."
Padmé looked at him, feeling the pull of his words. There was no denying the truth in them, but that truth made her heart heavy. She didn't want to become the thing she had always fought against. But there was a sense of something more in his eyes, something that told her he wasn't asking her to lose herself completely. She saw a flicker of the man who fought for something greater than war—a man who still understood the importance of protecting people, even if he had grown hardened in the process.
"And if I do trust you?" Padmé asked, her voice barely above a whisper, a flicker of fear in her eyes. "If I let you take control? What will I become? Will I still be the Padmé Amidala I once was? Or will I just be another soldier?"
Maximus stood still, his gaze unwavering. He didn't offer her reassurances, nor did he try to comfort her. Instead, he met her gaze with a quiet certainty that came from knowing the brutal reality of their situation.
"You'll be who you need to be," he said simply. "The Padmé Amidala who once inspired millions is still there. But you will be stronger. Wiser. You'll be a leader who makes the hard choices, the ones no one else can make. And in the end, you'll fight for what matters. That's the kind of leader this galaxy needs now."
He paused, a slight tension in his shoulders. "I know what it's like to lose who you were. To watch the things you fought for slip away. But you don't have to lose everything. Not if you fight for the right reasons."
Padmé's heart raced as she met his gaze. There was a strange sense of calm in his words, as though he had long since come to terms with the weight of the decisions he had to make. It didn't make the choices any easier, but it made them feel inevitable.
"I don't know if I'm ready," she whispered, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest. "But I don't think I have a choice, do I?"
Maximus gave a small nod, his eyes hard but not unfeeling. "No. The time for hesitation has passed."
Padmé turned away from him, her eyes once more drawn to the city, the chaos spreading below. She didn't know if she could be the leader the galaxy needed. But standing here, side by side with him, she knew that if she didn't act now, everything she believed in would crumble.
With a deep breath, she turned back to Maximus. "Alright," she said, her voice steady now, despite the fear still lingering. "I'll trust you. I'll trust your Brothers. And if this is the path we must walk, then we will walk it together."
Maximus nodded, his gaze unwavering. There was a slight, almost imperceptible softening in his eyes, but the soldier in him still remained. "Together," he echoed, his voice firm, but not without a hint of respect.
Padmé didn't know if it was the right choice. But standing there, side by side with him, she knew that whatever happened next, she would never face it alone. And for the first time in a long while, she felt a glimmer of hope—fragile, but real. The galaxy was falling into darkness, but perhaps, just perhaps, there was still a way to fight back.
And she would fight, with everything she had.
===
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