The Senate convened once again, the vast chamber echoing with animated discussion that bordered on chaos.
News of the Geonosis attack dominated every conversation. With Ultron's threat hanging over them like a guillotine blade, senators clamored to voice their opinions. Loss assessments competed with damage reports, while calls for retaliation grew louder by the minute.
Anakin stood in the viewing gallery, his gaze never straying far from his wife. Padmé's expression carried an unusual severity, a stark contrast to the warm composure she typically maintained. The Senate floor had become a verbal battlefield, each senator fighting to be heard over the din, and Skywalker found himself wondering if even she could navigate this storm rationally.
"We will accomplish nothing if we merely shout at one another, Senators," Chancellor Palpatine's voice cut through the noise. "Please. If we are to communicate effectively, we must maintain order."
"How do you maintain order when the Separatists and Ultron send us messages written in the blood of our people?" one senator shouted back, immediately receiving a roar of agreement from the assembly. The chamber walls seemed to vibrate with the force of hundreds of voices raised in anger and fear.
"Senators, please," Palpatine tried again, his patience visibly thinning.
"We can take action," Halle Burtoni of Kamino called out, her voice cutting through the commotion. "If we approve the bill to expand clone production, we give ourselves a fighting chance against the Republic's enemies."
"Are you insane?" Mon Mothma shot back immediately. "Or have you simply forgotten we're drowning in debt?"
"The Separatists are one thing," Amidala added, her voice carrying across the chamber, "but Ultron has explicitly stated his intention to exterminate us all."
Silence descended like a physical weight. Each senator retreated into their own thoughts, forced to confront the reality of their situation. Multiple existential threats. Dwindling resources. No clear path forward.
Anakin remained vigilant, his hand resting unconsciously near his lightsaber as he watched over Padmé from above.
The meeting continued in fits and starts, periods of tense discussion punctuated by outbursts of fear and frustration. Anakin stood quietly to one side, covering his face with one hand. Politics. He'd never understood the appeal. Too much complaining, too many self-serving proposals, and far too few people genuinely trying to accomplish anything meaningful.
"Senators," Amidala spoke again, her voice carrying a strength that drew every eye. "We are often so consumed by what we want that we forget our responsibilities. We forget the commitments we made to those who placed their trust in us."
She straightened, meeting the gazes of those around her without flinching. "The purpose of this assembly is to fulfill our duty. To protect the people of the Republic."
"And the clone expansion bill is precisely how we fulfill that responsibility," Burtoni stated confidently.
"Senator Burtoni, how much do you actually know about the people you claim to represent?" Bail Organa's question carried an edge sharp enough to cut. "You seem far more concerned with funding Kamino's facilities and producing what you deem 'valuable property' than with the actual lives being spent in this war. The clone troopers fight and die on the front lines."
"And casualties necessitate replacements," Burtoni replied, her tone dismissive enough to make Anakin's jaw clench. The contempt in those words resonated through the chamber, sparking anger among several senators.
A platform rose slowly, drawing attention to a figure many in the Senate knew by reputation. Cham Syndulla, representative of Ryloth, stood tall despite the weight of experience etched into his features.
"Senators," he began, his voice carrying the rasp of someone who'd breathed too much smoke and dust, "when was the last time any of you actually spoke with your people?"
The question hung in the air. Senator Syndulla's sharp gaze swept across the assembly like a searchlight.
"I don't mean the wealthy donors who funded your campaigns," he continued, each word deliberate. "I mean the people whose interests you swore to represent. Have you asked them what they actually need?"
Murmurs rippled through the chamber as Cham pressed on.
The Twi'lek veteran placed a hand over his heart. "You all know who I am. While my predecessor attended sessions like this, I fought on the ground. I stood beside my people when the Separatists invaded Ryloth. I watched friends die. I watched clone troopers, brave soldiers who never asked to be created, sacrifice themselves for our freedom."
Raw emotion flickered across Cham Syndulla's face. "How many of you," he asked quietly, the softness of his tone making it cut deeper, "can honestly claim you've done the same? That you've fought for your people's future rather than simply debated it from comfortable platforms?"
Several senators opened their mouths to object, but Cham ignored them entirely.
"While we waste time arguing about debt and spending and regulatory procedures, the people of this Republic continue to suffer. Whether from Separatists, pirates, Ultron, or our own incompetence, the suffering continues. And I will not stand by and allow that to persist."
Padmé's platform drifted forward, settling beside Syndulla's. The former Queen of Naboo regarded the impassioned senator with understanding in her eyes.
"Senator Syndulla, I hear you. I understand your pain." Padmé's voice carried a gentle firmness. "But escalating this war will only prolong everyone's suffering."
"Senator Amidala," Cham replied, turning to face her directly, "have you forgotten? Ten years ago, when you first entered this Senate, you found no support here. You returned home and fought for Naboo yourself. If we want our people to have any chance of fighting not just for survival, but for a future worth living, then we as their representatives must at least provide them the means to do so."
The words struck home. Padmé's breath caught as memories flooded back. The Trade Federation's occupation. Her people's suffering. Their desperate pleas for help that went unanswered. The weight of the crown she'd worn so young, and the terrible decisions it had forced her to make.
Her eyes widened with sudden clarity, understanding crystallizing in that moment. This was why she was here. Not for politics. For her people.
Purpose solidified in the Naboo Senator's heart. She thought of faces she'd known her entire life, people who trusted her to protect them.
"For my people," she whispered to herself, then raised her voice. "We must find a path to peace."
The chamber quieted, senators turning their attention to her.
"Tekla Minnao," Padmé said clearly.
Confusion rippled through the assembly. The name meant nothing to most of them.
Undeterred, Padmé took a breath and continued. "Tekla is one of my constituents. We constantly speak about serving the public, yet how many of us know their names? Tekla lives in a region devastated by this war. Her children are fortunate if they can bathe once every two weeks. They have no light at night to read by, no way to continue their education. The Republic once funded these basic necessities, but those credits have been diverted to military production. We've abandoned the foundations people need simply to survive."
The chamber grew still, every eye fixed on the young senator.
"If not for ordinary citizens like Tekla and her children, who are we fighting for?" Padmé's voice strengthened with each word, passion replacing the earlier weariness. "My people. Your people. All of our people. The purpose of this war is to free them from suffering, not deepen it. I support our soldiers, whether they were born in Kamino's facilities or on any of the millions of worlds loyal to this Republic."
Her next words rang with undeniable conviction. "But if we continue impoverishing our own people, then Dooku, Ultron, or anyone else won't need to defeat us on battlefields. They'll defeat us in our homes. In our hearts. When we've already lost everything worth fighting for. Therefore, it is our duty, our most sacred obligation, to protect the lives entrusted to us by vetoing this bill."
Cham Syndulla nodded slowly, then addressed the chamber once more. "How can we ask our people to fight for us if we refuse to fight for them?"
Silence stretched across the vast space. Then, quietly at first, applause began.
It started with Bail Organa, pride evident in his expression as he regarded his young colleague. Riyo Chuchi and Mon Mothma joined immediately, their applause sharp and deliberate in the quiet.
Within seconds, more senators responded. The sound built like a wave, rolling through the chamber until it filled the space completely. Even those who disagreed with her conclusion couldn't deny the power of her words.
Padmé felt hope surge through her, reinforced by brief eye contact with Chuchi, Organa, and Mothma. Their bright smiles conveyed solidarity, shared purpose. Recognition that her voice had been heard. That her existence, her struggle, mattered.
From the gallery above, Anakin watched with visible relief, grinning as he sensed the heavy weight of stress and doubt lifting from his wife's shoulders. He shook his head slightly, smile still in place, and turned away.
Time to leave politics to those better suited for it.
He'd barely exited the Senate chamber when he spotted three familiar figures waiting. Captain America, Black Widow, and Sam stood together, their expressions serious enough to immediately set him on edge.
Steve approached first, placing a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "We need to talk."
The unusual gravity in Cap's tone made Anakin's brow furrow.
"What's wrong?" he asked, concern sharpening his voice.
"Come back to our quarters," Sam said quietly, glancing around the corridor. "Too many eyes and ears here."
"Padmé will be joining us," Natasha added. "Along with a few others we trust."
Anakin blinked, processing that.
The three Avengers exchanged glances, a moment of silent communication passing between them. Steve ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. "It's complicated. But in the simplest terms, we've discovered something about the clone army. Something that changes everything."
Anakin drew a slow breath, steadying himself. "Well. Wasn't expecting that to be our topic of conversation today." He studied their faces, reading the weight they carried. "You said others besides Padmé. Who?"
"Peter suggested we bring in Ahsoka and Barriss," Sam explained. "Someone else will be joining too."
"Aayla," Natasha added. "Steve specifically invited her."
"And Obi-Wan," Steve continued, watching Anakin's reaction carefully.
Skywalker frowned, noticing an obvious absence. "What about the clones? If this involves them, Rex should be there. At minimum."
The three Avengers fell silent for a beat too long.
"We will," Steve said carefully. "When we're ready. When we know exactly how to explain this."
"For now," Sam's voice softened slightly, "trust us. We'll explain everything soon."
"You can use our quarters to speak with Padmé privately first if needed," Natasha offered. "We understand this is difficult."
"What are you hiding?" Anakin asked bluntly.
Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken truths. They all knew the time had come. Anakin needed to understand what they'd discovered. The biochips. The conspiracy buried in every clone's brain. The betrayal waiting to be activated.
Everything was about to change.