The wild life of Naboo surrounded Khan and Padmé as they rode aboard a Nabooian transport vehicle bound for the outer settlements. It was midmorning, and the sun was still climbing its way toward the peak of the sky. Driving the vehicle was Padmé's mother, Jobal Naberrie.
"Thank you again for allowing me to accompany you, Mrs. Naberrie," said Khan politely from the back seat.
Jobal smiled through the rearview mirror. "If anything, we should be thankful. An extra pair of hands is always welcome when hauling supplies to the settlements."
Khan returned the smile. "I'm just glad to see more of your world. I didn't realize how beautiful Naboo's wilderness truly was." His golden eyes glanced toward the open window, where emerald fields stretched endlessly, dotted with lakes that shimmered like blue glass.
Padmé leaned beside him, looking out as well. "It really is something special, isn't it? I've lived here my whole life, and I still love seeing the green fields and blue waters. No matter how many times I travel this route, it never loses its beauty."
Their conversation carried on through the journey—small talk, laughter, and observations about the people and land. The hum of the vehicle mixed with the chirping of distant birds, creating a serene backdrop to their words.
Eventually, the transport slowed as the terrain dipped into a broad valley.
Padmé gestured ahead. "This is the Valley of Vâne—a settlement surrounded by farmland and grazing hills. Most of our food and livestock come from here. Without it, Theed would struggle, so we do everything we can to keep this place thriving."
Khan nodded thoughtfully. "I can see why. The people here must know how important they are to Naboo's heart."
Padmé smiled softly at that. "I hope so."
The vehicle came to a smooth halt as they reached the settlement. Both Padmé and Khan stepped out first. Before them stretched the Valley of Vâne—a humble village built between sloping green hills. The homes were simpler than the elegant domes of Theed, made with practicality in mind rather than beauty. Still, they carried the familiar Naboo aesthetic—graceful curves, polished stone, and gardens woven into every yard.
Farmers worked in the fields, laughter and conversation filling the air. Children ran past with small baskets of fruit, playing as their parents tended to animals and crops.
Khan took it all in with quiet awe. "This place feels… peaceful," he said softly.
Padmé turned toward him with a teasing smile. "Alright, little Jedi, how about helping us unload the supplies before you get too enchanted by the scenery?"
Khan laughed lightly. "Fair enough. Lead the way."
Jobal stepped down from the front seat, a small data pad in hand. "I'll go meet with the settlement chief and handle the supply report. Some of the locals should be here soon to help unload. You two take care of the rest for now."
Both Khan and Padmé nodded, sharing a quick glance before rolling up their sleeves and getting to work.
As Padmé and Khan began unloading the transport's supplies, several villagers came to greet them.
"Padmé! Thank you for always coming out here to help us," called a familiar voice. It was a young man who looked to be around sixteen, shaped by life in the fields. His frame was lean but toned, the kind of strength earned from long days of labor rather than training. His skin carried a faint bronze tint from the Naboo sun, and his face, though rough around the edges, held a quiet kindness that put others at ease. Tousled brown hair fell just above his dark eyes—steady, thoughtful eyes that spoke of someone who had seen hardship but refused to let it harden him.
Padmé turned with a warm smile. "Gradd! I didn't expect you today. We've already brought out the cloth and farming equipment—if you want to start distributing them."
"Perfect," said Gradd, waving over a few others who came with him. They started setting up tables and unloading crates with practiced coordination. From the corner of his eye, Gradd spotted Khan. "You've brought a new face today. Haven't seen him around before."
Padmé looked toward Khan with a small grin. "Yes, he's volunteering to help us today."
Gradd nodded approvingly. "Well, the more hands the better. Any friend of yours is a friend of ours." He walked over to Khan and extended a hand. "Nice to meet you. Thank you for coming all the way out here to help."
Khan set down a crate before shaking his hand. "It's a pleasure to be here. Your village feels very peaceful—I'm glad to lend a hand."
With introductions done, everyone got back to work. For a while, the afternoon passed smoothly—the sound of laughter, chatter, and tools filled the air as supplies were moved and sorted. The sense of community was palpable.
Until suddenly, a villager came running into view, panting heavily and shouting.
"Bandits! There are Gungan bandits attacking the farms!"
Khan immediately turned toward the voice, his instincts kicking in. He rushed to meet the man halfway. "Tell me—are the people there alright?"
The villager struggled to catch his breath. "Some are injured! The bandits are holding them hostage—stealing our food!"
Khan's expression hardened. He turned quickly toward Padmé. "Grab medical supplies and contact Theed. Tell them to send soldiers. I'll go see what's happening—I might be able to help."
Padmé's concern showed in her eyes, but she didn't hesitate. "Alright—just stay safe, Khan!"
Without another word, Khan broke into a sprint, his cloak whipping behind him as he headed toward the farms.
Gradd stepped beside Padmé, worry in his voice. "Is he going to be alright? He's not just a civilian, is he?"
Padmé looked toward the direction Khan had run, determination softening her worry. "No… he's more than that. Trust him."
Khan sprinted through the dirt road, his robes flowing behind him as the sounds of panic filled the air. Villagers were fleeing in every direction, carrying what few belongings they could. The smell of smoke and scorched soil filled the air.
"Run toward the town center!" Khan called out as he passed them. "There'll be help there—go quickly!"
They nodded, fear in their eyes, clutching injured neighbors and children. Khan pushed forward, heading toward the chaos that loomed ahead.
When he reached the edge of the fields, the scene before him told the story. Several rough-looking Gungans were raiding the farms—these weren't simple locals. Their armor was pieced together from different offworld sources, scuffed and worn, their energy rifles clearly modified military gear. A large hover transport hovered nearby, piled high with sacks of grain and mechanical tools stolen from the farms.
The Gungans shouted in a mix of their language and Basic, laughing as they loaded their loot. Around them, the ground was torn apart from blaster fire.
Khan's eyes sharpened. He could see three villagers bound near the hovercraft, guarded by a group of six bandits, while a taller, more heavily armored Gungan oversaw the operation. The leader barked orders, his voice harsh and commanding.
Khan approached calmly, his hand resting on his lightsaber but not igniting it yet. "You're stealing from peaceful farmers," he said, his tone firm. "Let these people go and leave while you still can."
The leader turned, sneering, his sharp teeth visible. "You think you scare us, human? You don't know who you're dealin' with. This food now belongs to us."
Khan's hand tightened slightly around his weapon. "Last warning."
The Gungan leader gave a crooked grin and gestured to his men. "Blast him."
The air lit up with red blaster bolts. Khan's lightsaber snapped to life with a bright green flash, deflecting the first shot, then the second, each motion fast and controlled. The hum of his blade echoed across the fields as he moved forward.
The six Gungans rushed him at once—three with rifles, three charging with electro-spears. Khan's movements became a blur of precision and grace. He sidestepped the first attacker, struck his weapon aside with the back of his hand, and twisted to disarm another. One tried to strike from behind; Khan spun, cutting through the spear's shaft before sweeping the Gungan's legs out from under him.
He deflected another flurry of blaster fire, sending one bolt ricocheting into the ground near the hover transport. The last two Gungans hesitated—but Khan pressed forward, using the Force to push them back, their weapons flying from their hands.
The fight was over in moments. The six bandits lay disarmed and dazed on the ground, groaning. Khan stood firm, his saber still glowing as he turned toward the leader.
The Gungan leader snarled and dragged one of the hostages forward, pressing the barrel of his rifle to the villager's head. "Move again, Jedi, and dis will be your fault."
Khan froze where he stood, his breathing calm but his stance guarded. "Let them go," he said quietly. "No one else needs to get hurt."
The leader smirked, tightening his grip on the hostage. "You think I'm fool enough to fight you head-on? No, no. We take what we came for, and you stay right there."
The hover transport began to hum louder as the engines powered up. The remaining Gungans scrambled aboard, throwing sacks of stolen goods into the back. The leader kept the hostage close, backing toward the transport, his eyes locked on Khan.
Khan slowly stepped forward, his saber raised defensively. "Don't do this," he warned.
The leader shoved the hostage toward the ground and leapt onto the transport. "Tell your fancy city folks," he shouted as the craft lifted off, "dat the outer lands ain't theirs no more!"
The transport shot into the sky, leaving a gust of dust and smoke in its wake. Khan stood still for a long moment, the hum of his saber fading as he powered it down.
He turned back to the villagers, helping the hostages to their feet. "You're safe now," he said softly. "Help is coming."
The once peaceful fields of the Valley of Vâne were now filled with smoke and the faint cries of the wounded. The Gungans were long gone, their hover transport having vanished into the horizon. What was left behind were broken crates, scattered supplies, and frightened villagers.
Khan stood among them, his robes covered in dust. His lightsaber was now clipped back to his belt as he moved from one injured villager to another, administering what first aid he could. His movements were calm, deliberate—his expression steady, though there was a quiet frustration behind his eyes.
Before long, the faint hum of engines echoed overhead. Several sleek Naboo transport vessels descended, kicking up clouds of dirt as they landed near the fields. From them, armed Naboo soldiers stepped out, scanning the area. Their commander approached Khan, taking in the scene before speaking.
"What happened here? We were told a Jedi would be at the scene. Is that you?"
Khan straightened and gave a respectful nod. "Indeed. I was assisting the relief team when we were attacked by a group of Gungan raiders. They've already escaped, taking the stolen supplies with them." He looked toward the horizon, then back to the soldier. "We won't catch up to them now, but there are still people who need help. Let's tend to them first."
The soldier nodded in understanding, giving quick orders to his men. "You heard him—spread out and help anyone injured. Secure the area and keep the fires from spreading."
As the soldiers dispersed, the hum of activity filled the air again. Some men helped the wounded, others began extinguishing small fires still burning across the fields.
From one of the transports, Padmé stepped out, followed by Gradd, her mother Jobal, and an elderly man with a cane who seemed to be one of the village elders. Her eyes immediately found Khan. She ran toward him, worry clear on her face.
"Khan, are you okay?" she asked, her tone filled with concern.
Khan turned to her, a faint smile breaking through the exhaustion on his face. "I'm fine, Padmé. Nothing I couldn't handle."
Padmé let out a breath of relief, placing a hand on her chest. "Thank goodness…"
Gradd approached, his expression somber yet grateful. "You saved our people, Jedi. We're forever thankful for what you've done here today."
Khan gave him a small bow of his head. "It was my duty—and an honor to help. I only wish I could've stopped them before they escaped."
Jobal placed a hand on one of the nearby villagers, helping them sit up. "You still saved lives, young man. That's more than enough."
Khan looked around at the field once more—the wounded being treated, the soldiers working to restore order, Padmé quietly helping where she could. Though the raid had been repelled, he could sense something deeper behind it.