The Jedi Masters gathered at the temple entrance, their expressions a mixture of anticipation and unease.
Yoda's ears drooped slightly. Mace Windu's brow furrowed. Something was coming, something that would change things.
Yoda's gimer stick tapped the stone. "A bad feeling, I have."
"Same here." Windu nodded slowly.
Neither could articulate it, but the Force hummed with an unfamiliar resonance. The ancient temple felt... different.
As if it somehow knew its solitude was about to be disrupted.
Garfield had made arrangements before departing Naboo.
The captured fleet needed a home, so he'd parked it in orbit around the planet, a constant reminder to the Trade Federation of what they'd lost.
As for his companions, four remained behind… Two Robot Dogs, Two Laser Birds, Flying Wing, Wind Wing, Zero Wing, and Sky Wing.
Only one Wing accompanied him to Coruscant, transforming into a hyperspace fighter and slipping into the Jedi Temple's hangar like a shadow behind Garfield's shuttle.
The main entrance loomed ahead.
Garfield padded forward, taking in the sight of the gathered Jedi Masters. There was Yoda, radiating wisdom. And there was Windu...
Garfield's eyes widened.
Holy catnip.
He looked exactly like a hard-boiled egg with limbs.
Garfield raised a paw in enthusiastic greeting. "Hello, Master Yoda! Hello, Big Brother Egg!"
"…."
Yoda blinked slowly. "Hello, King Garfield."
Windu's eye twitched. Egg? He opened his mouth to respond, but the word hung there, refusing to form.
Did he just~
The other Jedi Masters exchanged glances.
Professionally trained, they were. Masters of composure, they were. No matter how absurd the comment, they would maintain~
Pfft.
A tiny sound escaped someone's throat. Muffled.
Then another.
And another.
Within seconds, the dignified gathering of Jedi Masters dissolved into helpless laughter.
Hands covered mouths… someone even wheezed.
Even Obi-Wan, who had been valiantly maintaining a somber expression in honor of Qui-Gon, found himself pinching his thigh so hard it would bruise… just to keep from joining in.
Windu's glare swept across them all. "What are you laughing at? Your smiles are far too relaxed."
"Clearly, you haven't been meditating enough!"
Yoda's ears quivered with suppressed amusement, but he stepped in smoothly.
"Enough, enough. Liven the atmosphere, we have. Now, inside we must go. For conversation, this is not the place."
The group filed into the temple. Behind them, the massive doors slid shut.
Obi-Wan had already submitted his report. The Council knew of Qui-Gon's death.
They knew a Sith had been confirmed, Darth Maul, an apprentice.
And they knew the master lurked somewhere in the shadows of the Republic, powerful and hidden.
What they didn't know was that the master sat in the Senate's highest chair.
Their guesses, while cautious, hadn't landed on Palpatine.
They'd theorized about various senators, about corporate interests, about shadowy cabals.
But not him.
The so-called irreversible fate?
Garfield stretched lazily as he followed the Jedi inside, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
The threads of fate, once pulled, rarely reweave themselves into the same pattern.
Anakin Skywalker would never save Naboo, that destiny had unraveled the moment Garfield intervened.
Instead, the boy found himself in Qui-Gon Jinn's care, traveling to Coruscant not as a liberated slave, but as a guest of the Jedi Order.
Qui-Gon lived.
Obi-Wan remained the irreverent, witty young knight he'd always been, no burden of grief weighing him down, no premature mastery forcing him to grow up too fast.
And Anakin? He had both of them now.
Qui-Gon's unorthodox wisdom balanced by Obi-Wan's structured discipline.
Two teachers, two shields against the darkness that once would have claimed him.
Qui-Gon, for all his rough edges, possessed a quiet subtlety. He understood what Obi-Wan lacked, what Anakin needed.
And with both masters guiding him from different angles, Palpatine's honeyed words would find far less fertile ground.
As for Garfield?
He had his own plans for the boy.
In time, he would reveal himself, show Anakin that the galaxy held more than Jedi and Sith, that hope came in many forms.
But that was a conversation for another day.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
In the southeast tower of the Jedi Temple, the Council gathered.
Garfield lounged nearby, paws folded, watching with faint amusement as the Jedi Masters assembled.
At Yoda and Windu's nod, Obi-Wan activated the holoprojector.
The Decepticons had done their work well, edited footage from Trade Federation battle droids, cleaned and stabilized, showing the duel in stark clarity.
Darth Maul's horned visage filled the chamber.
His double-bladed saber hummed.
The red blades cast crimson shadows across the stone floor.
Silence gripped the room as the recording played.
When it ended, the Masters sat motionless, the weight of confirmation settling upon them.
Finally, one spoke.
"A Sith. After all these years..."
Another studied the weapon displayed before them, Maul's lightsaber, recovered from Naboo.
"The kyber crystal. Forced to bleed through the dark side."
"Always red. The crystal's tears of blood." An ancient Master leaned forward, voice heavy with sorrow.
Yoda's ears drooped. His gimer stick tapped once against the floor. "A new war, this heralds."