Space Marine in Star Wars

===Palpatine===

Palpatine sat in his office, brooding over the Queen's decision to return to Naboo. She was more foolish than he had anticipated, but it would only serve to further his plans. He smiled to himself, a dark thought forming in his mind.

"How interesting…" he muttered, just as his comms began beeping. It was his secure line, meaning Viceroy Gunray wished to speak with him.

A surge of displeasure flared within him, though he quickly concealed it, pressing a button under his desk that plunged his office into darkness. Rising from his chair, he placed his hood over his face and accepted the transmission.

"What is th—"

He was suddenly interrupted, his words cut off as a towering figure appeared on the hologram. The figure was clad in white, green, and golden armor, exuding an air of menace and power. The moment he spoke, Palpatine was taken aback.

"Sidious, I have come at my God's command," the figure's voice rumbled, deep and distorted, sending an eerie chill down Palpatine's spine. It was as if something ancient and unnatural was brushing against the back of his mind, a presence that both unsettled and intrigued him.

Palpatine's eyes narrowed beneath his hood as he studied the figure. The towering armored figure exuded an aura of power that even the Sith Lord could feel. His dark optics glinted with an unsettling certainty, and Palpatine's instinct told him that this being was not only formidable but unpredictable.

"You are... bold," Palpatine said, his voice calm but carrying an edge of caution. "And clearly mistaken if you think you can simply address me in such a manner."

Kharath's stance remained unwavering, the crackling energy around him almost palpable, like a storm ready to break. His gaze bore into the screen with a predatory intensity.

"Bold?" Kharath repeated, his voice deep and rumbling with the resonance of something older, darker. "I come to offer you something far more valuable than you can imagine."

Palpatine's fingers twitched slightly, though his expression remained unreadable. He had learned long ago to mask his thoughts, to conceal the depths of his mind, but the presence before him stirred something far deeper than he cared to acknowledge.

"You are not the first to seek power," Palpatine said, each word deliberate.

Kharath's laugh was low and terrifying, as if he were amused by a mere mortal's naivety. "You misunderstand me, Sidious. I do not seek your power. I seek to teach you something greater. You think you command the darkness, but you are only a shadow of what true power can be."

Palpatine's lips curled into a cold smile, but inside, he could feel a flicker of unease. The way Kharath spoke… the certainty in his words, the authority that radiated from him—it was unlike anything he had encountered. Sidious was no stranger to power, yet this being was different, almost otherworldly.

"I've commanded the forces of the Dark Side for decades," Palpatine said slowly, "What could you possibly offer me that I do not already control?"

Kharath's optics gleamed with ancient knowledge, his voice now a rasping whisper. "You wield a fraction of the darkness, Sidious. A mere reflection of what is possible. My God has granted me mastery over sorceries beyond your comprehension. I can show you how to reshape reality itself, how to manipulate life and death."

The implication of Kharath's words struck like lightning, and Palpatine's thoughts raced. He had always believed in his superiority, in the meticulous control he had over the galaxy and the dark forces that bound it. But Kharath—this being before him—spoke of something far more… ancient. And far more dangerous.

"You speak of sorceries," Palpatine said slowly, "as though they are mere tools to be wielded. You are not the first to claim such mastery. None have ever succeeded in truly transcending the Dark Side. Power like that comes at a price."

Kharath's gaze sharpened, his voice growing colder, more forceful. "The price is nothing compared to the power you would gain. I have walked paths that you cannot even fathom, Sidious. I have harnessed the very essence of destruction, reshaped the fabric of existence. What I offer is beyond your petty rituals and schemes."

Sidious felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. This figure, this Kharath, was no mere pretender. His power was real, undeniable. But the Sith Lord would not be cowed so easily.

"You are dangerous," Palpatine said, his voice slipping into its familiar cadence, tinged with a quiet fury. "But you are also foolish if you think I would kneel to you. I am the master of the Sith, and I answer to no one."

Kharath's helmet tilted slightly, as though considering Palpatine's words. His posture remained perfect, unwavering.

"You misunderstand," Kharath replied, his voice now taking on an almost patronizing tone. "I do not ask you to kneel. I demand it. You will kneel before me, Sidious, and you will learn from me, or I will tear everything you've built apart. You cannot even begin to fathom the power I command, and yet I offer you the chance to learn, to rise to your full potential."

Palpatine's eyes narrowed dangerously. To demand that he kneel? The audacity of this being. But there was something about his presence, something undeniable in the way Kharath spoke, that made Sidious feel the first stirrings of doubt.

Kharath continued, his voice now laced with finality, "I will come to you, Sidious. I will teach you the ways of true sorceries, and you will become my disciple—or I will break you. The choice is yours."

The transmission flickered briefly as Kharath turned, signaling that the conversation was over. Sidious sat in his office, the darkness pressing in closer, the implications of the conversation swirling in his mind.

The audacity of this Kharath... demanding he kneel before him. Sidious had never been so challenged in his life. Yet, the power this figure spoke of, the mastery over destruction and sorcery—it was a temptation he could not ignore. Perhaps this Kharath was more than just a threat. Perhaps he was something Sidious could use.

The galaxy would see what happened when ambition met true power.

===Qui-Gon===

"I understand your concerns about the children, but you must recognize their potential. The boy is undoubtedly the Chosen One! You must see it!" Qui-Gon argued, standing before the Council.

Mace Windu leaned forward in his seat, his tone firm. "It seems you are not grasping our point."

"The girl lacks the necessary talent, and the boy is consumed by negative emotions. He is far too vulnerable to the dark side, let alone the fact that they are both too old."

Qui-Gon stood firm, his expression intense as he faced the Council. "I understand your reservations, but Anakin's potential cannot be ignored. He is the Chosen One, destined to bring balance to the Force. You cannot simply dismiss that!"

Mace Windu's gaze sharpened as he spoke again, his voice tinged with frustration. "And yet, you persist in your insistence, despite his emotional instability. The boy is filled with fear, anger—traits that lead down the path to the dark side."

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed, but his voice remained calm. "Yes, he has fear, but that does not mean he will fall. The boy is simply misunderstood, and with proper guidance, he can learn to overcome these emotions. As for Nira, she does show promise, but it is Anakin who is of utmost importance. I believe the Force was guiding me to him."

The Council was silent for a moment, exchanging uneasy glances. Finally, Master Yoda spoke, his voice soft but firm.

"Enough. Clouds your judgment, this obsession does."

Qui-Gon's heart sank, but he stood his ground. "You cannot be serious. You would deny him his destiny?"

"We deny nothing," Mace Windu replied coldly. "But we will not allow your personal vision to dictate the future of the Jedi Order."

Qui-Gon's hands clenched into fists, but before he could respond, Master Ki-Adi-Mundi interrupted. "The matter of Anakin is settled, for now. However, your mission has changed, Qui-Gon. You are to go to Naboo with Queen Amidala."

The words hit Qui-Gon like a blow to the chest. "Naboo? But the boy—"

"Enough!" Master Windu barked, his voice echoing through the chamber. "You will go to Naboo and accompany the Queen. The political situation there is volatile, and the presence of the Astartes—these supersoldiers—has us concerned."

Qui-Gon's brow furrowed in confusion. "The Astartes? You believe they are a greater threat than the Sith?"

The Council members exchanged uneasy glances. Master Yoda spoke again, his voice grave. "A force like that... we have not seen in centuries. Their power, we cannot predict. Better you go, watch over the Queen, and learn what you can."

Qui-Gon's sense of duty weighed heavily on him, but he knew arguing further would be futile. The Council had made their decision. "I will go, Master," he said to Yoda, though his heart was still torn between his duty and his belief in Anakin's potential.

"Good," Mace Windu said, his voice still edged with finality. "And Qui-Gon... remember, there are forces at play far greater than you understand. Be cautious on Naboo."

With a heavy heart, Qui-Gon bowed his head in respect before turning to leave the Council chamber. His thoughts were consumed by the boy from Tatooine, the one he believed to be the Chosen One. But for now, his mission was clear. He would go to Naboo, watch over Queen Amidala, and keep an eye on the mysterious Astartes.

===

As Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan disembarked from the shuttle, they were met with the imposing sight of the massive platform where the Nubian ship awaited the delegation. One of the Astartes, Maximus, stood at the edge of the ship, silently observing them.

Nearby, Lyra comforted her daughter, Nira, who was still shaken from her performance before the Jedi Council. Despite her efforts to console her, Lyra couldn't help but feel a quiet relief—she was grateful that Nira's performance had faltered, as she feared her daughter would be taken from her.

"Enough," Qui-Gon said sharply, cutting off Obi-Wan's continued protest about Anakin's fate.

"We will speak of this no more," he added, his voice carrying an edge of finality, before turning toward the ship in a sour mood.

As he approached, the familiar, yet jarring sound of Jar Jar Binks's voice filled the air.

"Meesa goin' home! Meesa done wit' dis!" Jar Jar shouted, throwing his hands up in excitement.

Maximus, who had been silently watching the scene unfold, immediately stiffened at the sound of the Gungan's voice. His eyes narrowed, and a cold, threatening silence hung in the air. Without looking directly at Jar Jar, he spoke in a low, menacing tone. "Shut your mouth, alien, or I'll rip your tongue out of your head."

Jar Jar froze, eyes wide with panic, his usual clumsy demeanor giving way to genuine fear. The towering Astartes's voice carried an authority that was impossible to ignore, and the Gungan wisely fell silent, his ears drooping in submission.

Obi-Wan cast a sidelong glance at Qui-Gon, noting his master's discomfort but not speaking. Qui-Gon, for his part, merely sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. He had little time for Jar Jar's antics, and Maximus's threat only added to the tension that seemed to follow the delegation.

As Maximus stepped onto the ship, the others followed in his wake, leaving Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to deal with the increasingly awkward atmosphere. Jar Jar, now visibly subdued, followed them on board, still muttering to himself but keeping a respectful distance from the intimidating warrior.

Once on the ship, Qui-Gon turned to Obi-Wan, his voice softer, but tinged with the weight of their previous conversation. "We must focus on the mission, Obi-Wan. The fate of Naboo may be in our hands, but our attention must remain on what lies ahead,

Obi-Wan nodded, but his concern for Anakin remained clear in his eyes. "Understood, Master."

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