The Gungan Front
The wide plains outside Theed shimmered in the morning sun as the Gungan Grand Army marched into position. Rank after rank of shield generators hummed to life, casting brilliant blue domes across the grasslands. Behind them, beasts of burden carried plasma catapults, the air buzzing with energy spheres.
At their head, Boss Nass raised his ceremonial staff high. "Dis is the day! Naboo will not fall while da Gungans fight!"
Then the ground trembled.
From the horizon came the Trade Federation's droid army endless ranks of B1 battle droids, flanked by rolling droidekas and towering multi-troop carriers. Their metallic footsteps beat like war drums across the fields.
"Steady…" called Captain Tarpals.
The battle began in thunder.
Droids marched forward, blaster fire slamming against the shimmering Gungan shields. Plasma catapults answered, hurling sizzling spheres that shattered droid ranks in bursts of molten circuitry. Droidekas rolled forward, unleashed their own barriers, and began their advance.
The grasslands became a storm of fire and light.
Meanwhile, the Queen's strike team advanced into the city. Padmé, clad in disguise, led Naboo guards and Jedi through alleys and plazas toward the palace. Theed's marble beauty was scarred by occupation — droids patrolled in mechanical precision, banners of the Trade Federation hanging from high towers.
At her side, Qui-Gon Jinn moved with quiet confidence, Obi-Wan alert beside him. Captain Panaka directed the guards, clearing their path.
"Our goal is the Viceroy," Padmé said firmly. "Cut off the head, the body will fall."
Their route would take them directly through the palace hangar. And waiting there… was death.
The hangar doors groaned open, and a figure stepped from the shadows.
Darth Maul.
Horns gleamed under the pale light, his cloak falling away to reveal black and crimson tattoos. With a hiss, he ignited his weapon the twin blades of his crimson lightsaber sparking into life.
Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. "We'll handle this."
The Jedi surged forward. Green and blue clashed against red in an eruption of sparks. Maul moved like a predator unchained, his saber whirling in brutal arcs. Obi-Wan countered with youthful aggression, Qui-Gon with tempered mastery.
The duel spilled from the hangar into the palace's heart, steel ringing as blades carved walls and scorched floors. Maul's strength drove them back, yet the Jedi pressed in, united.
Upward, into the plasma refinery they battled a labyrinth of glowing barriers and bottomless shafts.
Above, in the Skies
In orbit, Naboo's starfighter squadrons clashed with Federation control ships. Among them was a young boy in a yellow N-1 starfighter: Anakin Skywalker.
"Uh… I don't know what button does what!" he yelped, hands scrambling across the controls. R2-D2 beeped furiously beside him.
The fighter spun, dodged, then locked into formation almost by accident. Turbolaser fire screamed past. Anakin's ship dipped low, crashing into the hangar of the droid control ship.
"Oh no… this isn't good" His accidental entry turned deliberate as blasters lit the hangar. Explosions cascaded. Systems failed. By sheer instinct and perhaps something more the boy's torpedoes struck the main reactor.
"Yippee!"
The control ship erupted in fire. Across the planet, droids froze mid-step, collapsing in heaps of lifeless metal.
The Gungan battlefield erupted in cheers. The tide had turned.
The Duel Continues
But in the depths of Theed, the fight was not over.
Qui-Gon drove Maul back, but the Sith was relentless. Sparks lit the air as sabers clashed, each blow echoing with fury. Obi-Wan leapt high, striking downward Maul spun, catching the blade and forcing him back.
Then the plasma barriers split them apart. Qui-Gon and Maul stood trapped together, Obi-Wan pacing furiously on the other side.
The elder Jedi centered himself, breathing deep. Maul prowled, saber humming with menace.
The barriers dropped.
They clashed again, ferocity unbound. Maul's strikes were savage, each one testing Qui-Gon's endurance. At last, the Sith found an opening the staff end of his saber rammed hard into Qui-Gon's stomach. The Jedi gasped, staggered
and the red blade pierced his chest.
"NO!" Obi-Wan's scream tore through the chamber as Qui-Gon collapsed, his body still, his saber extinguished.
Maul turned, eyes burning, as Obi-Wan charged.
Obi-Wan's Stand
The young Jedi's rage fueled his strikes, blue blade slashing in furious arcs. Maul parried with contemptuous ease, sparks spraying as their blades carved the air. Step by step, Obi-Wan pressed him back toward the reactor shaft.
But Maul was no fool. With a sudden spin, he knocked Obi-Wan's saber from his hands, sending it tumbling into the abyss. The Jedi teetered at the edge.
The Sith snarled, preparing the final blow
and Obi-Wan leapt. Force and fury carried him high, over Maul's head. His master's saber, still lying on the floor, snapped into his hand.
Blue light flared.
The strike came swift and true, a slash across Maul's torso
but the Sith twisted. The blade scored deep across his side, but it did not cleave him in two. Maul fell, tumbling, battered, but alive his hate burning brighter than his wound.
Aftermath of Battle
Naboo was free. Theed's streets rang with cheers as Padmé stood victorious, Nute Gunray captured, and the Trade Federation routed.
But in the palace's quiet chambers, grief lingered. Qui-Gon Jinn lay in death, his body honored by Jedi rites. Obi-Wan knelt beside him, tears unshed.
The Council would grant him knighthood for his courage. He would take Anakin Skywalker as his apprentice, fulfilling Qui-Gon's dying wish.
Yet in the shadows beyond Naboo, Maul lived scarred, broken, but alive. His failure stung, but his survival was a weapon. Hatred sustained him. And through the Force, his master's voice whispered:
"Patience, my apprentice. The war has only begun."
Coruscant A Rising Star
Back on Coruscant, the Senate swayed to Palpatine's tune. Chancellor Valorum had fallen, his inaction branded as weakness. Amidala's call for change rang through the chamber, and the galaxy answered.
With thunderous applause, Palpatine of Naboo was elected Supreme Chancellor.
He bowed humbly, hiding the smile that burned beneath. Power was his at last.
And on Mandalore, Shepard watched the holonet reports from his command chamber. Naboo's victory, Maul's revelation, Palpatine's rise.
He stood silent, fists clenched behind his back. The Sith return, the Republic falters, and the galaxy cheers a wolf in senator's robes.
"Prepare Mandalore," Shepard said quietly to his council. "The storm has broken. From this day forward, we watch closer than ever."
The Jedi mourned. The Senate cheered. The Sith plotted.
And Mandalore sharpened its blades.