Khan moved through the streets of Theed like a shadow slipping between pools of light. The city he had once walked openly now felt suffocating—its elegant arches watched over by cold, mechanical sentries. Trade Federation patrols marched in steady lines, metal feet clanking against polished stone.
Every movement sent a dull ache through his body. The duel in the throne room still burned in his muscles, his breath shallow despite his attempts to steady it through the Force. He wanted to move faster, wanted to cut through the city and tear Padmé from the enemy's grip—but impatience would only get him killed.
Wait, he told himself. Survive.
From his concealment, Khan spotted two Neimoidians flanked by B1 droids approaching a shuttle platform. He sank deeper into the shadows, pressing himself against a pillar as their voices carried through the open air.
"Gunray," one of them hissed, glancing around nervously. "The Chancellor has contacted us. Negotiators are being sent."
Gunray's thin lips curled. "Good. That means the pressure is working."
"So… the plan proceeds?"
"Not yet," Gunray replied sharply. "There is still much to be done. We cannot allow these representatives to interfere before everything is in place. Move."
The two Neimoidians boarded the shuttle, which lifted smoothly into the sky and vanished toward orbit.
Khan remained still long after it was gone.
The Republic knows, he realized. At least the Chancellor does.
Hope flickered—small, fragile—but it was enough.
Still, hope alone would not save Naboo.
Khan pushed himself forward, slipping back toward the palace under cover of side streets and abandoned corridors. Inside, the halls echoed with the hum of machinery and the clipped voices of droids escorting government officials away. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to intervene.
Padmé comes first.
He reached the hangar approach and slowed, observing. The number of droids increased significantly—layers of patrols guarding rows of sleek Naboo ships. Escape was possible. Risky, but possible.
He memorized positions. Routes. Timing.
Then he withdrew before he was noticed.
The plan formed quickly—rough, imperfect, but workable.
All that remained was finding Padmé.
Using the Force sparingly, Khan flowed through the palace once more, avoiding open areas and slipping past patrols by instinct rather than sight. Eventually, the answer revealed itself—a secured meeting chamber, guarded by B1 droids stationed with too much attention.
That's it.
Khan waited, breathing slow, gathering what strength he could.
Then he moved.
The Force surged through him as he crossed the distance in a blur, his lightsaber igniting mid-stride. Four droids fell before their weapons fully raised, limbs clattering across the floor.
He didn't stop.
The door slid open—and four more droids turned toward him.
Khan thrust out his hand.
The Force slammed into them, yanking the droids forward in unison. His blade flashed—precise, economical. Silence followed.
Inside the room, Queen Amidala and her handmaidens stared in stunned relief.
"Your Majesty," Khan said quickly, deactivating his saber. "We must leave now. The droids will realize what's happened any second."
"Thank you for rescuing us," Queen Amidala replied—but her voice made Khan hesitate. "However, I cannot abandon my people."
Khan's eyes shifted—just once.
Padmé stood among the handmaidens, her posture different, her gaze steady and unmistakable.
Understanding clicked instantly.
He adjusted without pause.
"I understand," Khan said carefully, directing his words toward the Queen but his intent unmistakably meant for Padmé. "But only you can make the Senate listen. Naboo will not survive this alone."
The Queen turned, meeting Padmé's eyes.
Padmé gave a single, decisive nod.
"Very well," Queen Amidala said. "Lead the way, young Jedi."
Khan inclined his head. "Stay close. We move quickly and quietly."
As they prepared to leave, Khan allowed himself a brief glance at Padmé.
Hold on, he thought. Just a little longer.
Then he turned toward the hangar—and the risk yet to come.
As Khan prepared to move, the distant, metallic rhythm of marching feet echoed through the palace corridors. The droids were closing in. Once they discovered the destroyed guards, they would flood this wing within moments.
Khan's eyes flicked to the tall windows lining the chamber. Beyond them, rooftops stretched toward the hangar towers.
He moved fast, pushing one of the windows open. Cool air rushed in.
"This is going to be dangerous," Khan said quietly but firmly. "We leave through the window."
Queen Amidala hesitated only a heartbeat. She looked to her handmaidens, then nodded. "Do it."
One by one, they climbed out onto the stone ledge. Khan remained inside, lightsaber ready. The last handmaiden had just cleared the window when the door burst inward.
"Halt," a battle droid droned.
Khan thrust his hand forward. The Force slammed into the droids, hurling them backward in a clattering heap. He vaulted through the window an instant before blaster fire scorched the wall behind him.
"Move," Khan urged as his boots hit the roof. "Our time is short. Gunray will return soon."
They ran.
Across the rooftops of Theed, alarms wailed and searchlights swept the skyline. Droids poured onto balconies and walkways, abandoning any pretense of restraint. Blaster bolts streaked through the air.
Khan ran backward at times, deflecting fire, blue light flashing in sharp arcs. Sparks exploded against stone as shots ricocheted away from the group.
Padme grabbed a fallen blaster. Her hands trembled for half a second—then steadied.
"I won't just run," she said, firing back.
The handmaidens followed her lead, forming a moving shield around Queen Amidala. The escape turned frantic, blaster fire snapping past them as they leapt gaps and slid down sloped roofs.
Then—silence.
They rounded a corner and stopped short.
Droids.
Too many.
They had stepped into a kill zone, ranks of B1 units lifting their rifles in unison. Khan's heart sank. He could not block every shot. If it came to it, he would grab Padme and run—but the others—
Before the droids could fire, blue and green light erupted among them.
Two figures dropped from above, lightsabers spinning. Droids fell in pieces, limbs scattering across the stone. The sudden precision and speed cut a clean path through the formation.
Khan didn't hesitate. He surged forward, cutting down the remaining droids behind them.
Moments later, the rooftop was still.
One of the newcomers stepped forward, calm and composed. "I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn," he said. "This is my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi. We are here to assist."
Queen Amidala inclined her head. "Your timing is most appreciated, Master Jedi."
Khan stepped beside them and bowed deeply. "Master," he said, relief evident in his voice. "Padawan Kage. It's good to see the Order responded."
"We received your transmission," Qui-Gon said. "Fragmented, but urgent enough."
"There's no time to explain everything here," Khan said. "They're sealing the hangar. If we don't leave now, we won't leave at all."
Qui-Gon nodded. "Lead on."
He turned and called out, "Gungan—come down. We're departing."
A familiar shape dropped into view, landing with an excited bounce.
"Zef Fun!" Khan exclaimed.
The Gungan's eyes widened. "Yousa! Jedi friend! Long time, it has been!"
Khan smiled despite everything. "We'll catch up later. Right now—follow me."
They ran.
The hangar towers loomed closer, blaster fire intensifying as droids scrambled to reinforce the area. As they sprinted, Khan fell into step beside Qui-Gon.
"Master," Khan said under his breath, "there's something you need to know. I believe I encountered a Sith."
Qui-Gon's expression darkened instantly. "A Sith?"
"He carried a red blade," Khan said. "Zabrak. Yellow eyes. There's no mistake."
Qui-Gon slowed half a step. "Then this is far more serious than a blockade."
"If we survive this," Khan said, "the Council must be warned. He's still on Naboo—and he's powerful."
Obi-Wan glanced over. "If there's one Sith, there can't be many," he said confidently. "With three Jedi, we'll manage."
Khan didn't answer right away. "I hope you're right."
The hangar came into view—already swarming with droids. Without breaking stride, the three Jedi ignited their blades and charged.
Blue, green, and blue again carved through metal ranks. The droids fell quickly, overwhelmed by the sudden assault.
Khan pointed toward a sleek ship resting at the far end. "The Nubian Royal Starship. It's fast—fast enough to punch through the blockade."
Footsteps echoed again. More droids were coming.
"Can you hold them?" Khan asked, already turning.
"Go," Qui-Gon said. "Obi-Wan and I will handle this."
Khan sprinted for the ship with Queen Amidala and the handmaidens close behind. He powered up the systems, hands flying, engines humming to life.
Behind them, Qui-Gon raised his hand and sealed the massive hangar doors with the Force. Metal slammed shut.
"That should buy us time," Obi-Wan said.
Then—boom.
The doors shuddered.
Another impact. Stronger.
Obi-Wan stiffened. "Master… something's coming."
The doors exploded inward, smoke and debris rolling across the hangar floor.
A figure emerged through the haze.
The hood fell back, revealing red skin etched with black markings. Yellow eyes burned in the dim light. A lightsaber ignited—then a second blade burst to life from the other end.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan raised their weapons as one.
The Sith smiled.
And the hangar fell silent. Only the hum of the lightsabers was heard.
The Zabrak attacked without hesitation.
He surged forward in a blur of red and black, blades screaming as they carved toward Obi-Wan. The intent was clear—end the Padawan first, fracture the fight in a single stroke.
Qui-Gon stepped in instantly.
Their sabers collided in a violent cross, sparks bursting between green and crimson. Obi-Wan stumbled back, breath catching as death passed inches from him.
"Careful, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon warned, voice calm but strained. "This one is different."
"I feel it, Master," Obi-Wan answered, tightening his grip.
The Sith gave them no time to adjust.
He attacked again—faster, harder—driving them backward with relentless pressure. His movements were precise yet savage, each strike meant to break formation. Whenever Obi-Wan tried to flank, the Zabrak lashed out with a kick or a sudden spin, forcing him away and snapping his focus back onto Qui-Gon.
It became clear quickly.
This was Qui-Gon's fight.
Obi-Wan was an irritation to the Sith—dangerous, but secondary. The Zabrak's attention never truly left Qui-Gon, yellow eyes burning with something ancient and cruel.
Their sabers locked.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to narrow to the hum of energy and the crackle of power between them. The Zabrak leaned in, teeth curling into a thin, predatory smile.
Obi-Wan moved to strike—
Too late.
The Sith twisted, snapping a spinning kick into Qui-Gon's chest and sending him skidding back across the stone floor. In the same motion, the Zabrak surged forward, overwhelming Obi-Wan in a storm of blows.
"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon shouted.
Qui-Gon lunged back into the fight, but the Sith was faster.
A brutal strike shattered Obi-Wan's guard. Before he could recover, a wave of invisible force slammed into him, hurling him into the far wall with bone-cracking force. Obi-Wan crumpled, unconscious before he hit the floor.
Qui-Gon felt it in the Force—the sudden, terrible silence where his Padawan's presence should have been.
From the hangar, Khan saw it happen.
The ship was ready. Systems green. Engines primed.
He turned to Padmé. "Stay with the ship," he said urgently. "I have to help him."
Padmé didn't argue. She only nodded. "Go."
Khan sprinted back into the hangar.
Qui-Gon drew deeper on the Force now. His movements sharpened, his strikes flowing with renewed speed and purpose. He pressed the attack, guarding Obi-Wan's fallen form with every step.
The Zabrak met him blow for blow.
Stronger than Khan remembered. Stronger than anything Qui-Gon had expected.
Then Khan arrived.
He intercepted a downward strike, blades colliding in a shower of sparks. The sudden pressure forced the Sith to retreat a step, then another, reassessing.
For the first time, the balance shifted.
Qui-Gon glanced toward Obi-Wan—then to Khan.
"Take him," Qui-Gon said firmly. "Get him to the ship."
Khan hesitated. "Master, he's too strong. You can't face him alone."
Qui-Gon didn't look away from the Sith. "You are wounded and exhausted. I hear it in your breath. Stay, and you will die for nothing."
The Zabrak lunged toward Khan.
Qui-Gon intercepted him instantly, sabers crashing together.
"Go!" Qui-Gon commanded.
Khan swallowed hard, then moved. He lifted Obi-Wan and ran, every instinct screaming at him to turn back.
"Be careful, Master!" Khan shouted as he disappeared toward the ship.
The hangar fell silent again—save for the duel.
Qui-Gon and the Zabrak circled each other now. No words. No fury. Only intent.
This would end here.
Khan handed Obi-Wan to the handmaidens and turned back just in time to see the final exchange.
The Zabrak feinted low.
Qui-Gon moved to counter—
Too late.
The Sith struck upward, the hilt slamming into Qui-Gon's face. The impact stunned him for half a second.
That was all it took.
The crimson blade drove forward.
Straight through Qui-Gon Jinn's chest.
Time seemed to stop.
The green blade fell from Qui-Gon's hand as he collapsed to the floor, eyes wide, breath stolen by the Force itself.
Silence followed—thick, suffocating.
"MASTER QUI-GON!" Khan screamed, terror and grief tearing from his chest.
He took a step forward—
Padmé grabbed his shoulder. Hard.
"We have to go," she said, voice shaking but resolute. "He wouldn't want this."
Khan's hands trembled. His vision blurred. But he knew she was right.
With one last look at Qui-Gon's fallen body—and the Sith standing motionless over it—Khan turned and ran.
The ship lifted off moments later, engines roaring as it broke free of Naboo's atmosphere.
Behind them, the hangar burned.
And on the stone floor of Theed, a Jedi Master lay dead.
The Sith had returned.
A/N: Hello everyone. Sorry for the lack of chapters this week, I've been busy. I hope this chapter can satisfy people. Thank you for your patience.
A/N 2: Just a quick little thing in case you are wondering why Maul is so strong or why Obi-Wan is so weak and where Khan is in the strength ranking. I'll put it like this, Obi-Wan was always weak, the only reason he won was because Maul had let his guard down, here he did not. Maul defeated Qui-Gon in cannon, and with Maul being stronger that was not gonna change. Now why is Maul stronger? Well it's because Sidious has been whispering in his ear that he had a replacement for him. Maul's hatred has fueled his growth and his need to not be replaced has enhanced his abilities. Now where is Khan, strength wise? Khan is an anomaly, he can tap into a much deeper pool of the force. While Khan's lightsaber form is not at the peak of a master his force abilities when forced to can rival a Jedi master, but as he still lacks control he can't tap into it whenever he wants. Hope this kinda helps get a general idea where everyone is, narrative will for the most part be more important than strength numbers or power levels. Like my Goat Stan Lee once said the writer decides who is stronger based on who they want to win.