"...our people are dying, I have not had contact with anyone on planet for days..."

The man seemed on the verge of tears, and Padmé could not but help but feel sympathy for Fang Zar as he pleaded for the fate of his people and his planet on mostly deaf ears. The sith remembered how she had been in almost the exact position a decade ago, after being tricked by her master Darth Sidious about the Trade Federation and how their blockade would have been quick and painless. Padmé felt mixed emotions in this moment as well because, even as she made her case before an immovable Senate, she spoke then with the inner satisfaction of already having gained her revenge, having crushed to death her traitorous Senator moments prior. Though even then, at that young age of eighteen, Padmé understood that she would never be able to forgive her own complicity in that plot, however much Sidious had planned and executed the bulk of it. Now, she was indirectly inflicting the same atrocities unto more innocent words, her only consolation being how worse things would have been for the galaxy had Sidious lived, and how she would improve everything once her plans came to fruition.

The dark lady of the Sith could feel the patience of her Jedi bodyguards wearing thin. Since the ascension of Nute Gunray to the head of the Republic the Jedi had seen fit to assign her permanent bodyguards anytime she was on Coruscant, and obviously she could not, as a supposedly frail and helpless non Force Sensitive, turn down their offer. Not that she minded. Master Sifo-Dyas had practically volunteered for the assignment and even Obi-Wan Kenobi, though he would never admit it, seemed to not mind the babysitting despite the endless hours of political droning he had to now constantly endure.

Padmé sensed the presence of the assassins well before her Jedi protectors, and of that she was proud. She felt a brief wave through the Force from Anakin behind her in the Senate pod, and knew that he had felt the disturbance in the Force as well. Both of them showed no reaction until they heard Obi-Wan's shout.

"Threat, upper alcoves."

Less than a millisecond later, blasts came from exactly where Obi-Wan had pointed out, and the young Jedi Knight quickly moved the deflect the shots harmlessly onto the floor of the Senate Rotunda.

"That stray pod," Sifo-Dyas pointed out on the opposite side of the chambers, one that was quickly zooming towards them. "That's no politician occupying it."

Sure as sith, the Dug bounty hunter shot out several blasts towards the Naboo pod, which Sifo-Dyas worked quickly to deflect. Taking advantage of the break in the crosshairs, Anakin fired true twice, his first shot zooming into the chest of the Dug, then immediately pointing his blaster up to the ceiling, shooting again within two seconds of his first shot. Sure enough, a second twi'lek assassin plummeted down from the balcony, past hundreds of Senate pods, his body splattering onto the floor below. Quickly, a small cadre of Senate guards emerged onto the ground floor to wordlessly sweep and clean off the remains of the dead assassin, while another crew zipped out to tow away the rogue Dug's pod.

"Nice shooting, kid."

"Thanks, Master Jedi." It was easy pickings for Anakin to take out the two assassins, and though Obi-Wan clearly knew not of his Sith training, he figured the Jedi had long guessed that his talents were augmented by his supposedly raw abilities with the Force. Still, he couldn't help but beam in pride at the compliment from the man who had almost been his mentor and teacher. He knew he should not care about what one Jedi thought of him, but something ingrained in Anakin Skywalker's soul chafed at the idea of being thought of as a helpless civilian. Especially from Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Meanwhile, none in the Senate, not even Mon Mothma or Fang Zar reacted in the slightest to the assassination attempt because, if it seemed like an everyday occurrence, it practically was. Bail Organa actually yawned, his attention never straying from the business at hand while from his pod, the beleaguered Senator from Sern Prime continued his plea, his speech completely unaffected by yet another near death experience from his dear friend and colleague. The only one who showed any reaction to the assassination attempt was the Supreme Chancellor, who visibly cursed in some obscure Neimodian dialect once both assassins met their doom. His patience growing thin after yet another failed attempt, Nute Gunray finally decided to cut Fang Zar off.

"Enough slander," he screeched, looking angrily at his Vice Chair. "Who allowed this man to speak anyhows? He has no legitimacy. He does not represent Sern Prime. The current governing body of Sern Prime has nominated me to speak on their behalf. Sern Prime is in great shape. Sern Prime has never been better! Trade Federation and Sern Prime together forever! That is the message that has been relayed to me from Sern Prime. As you can see, Sern Prime is happy and at peace and loves Trade Federation, so there is no any reason for further speaking of Sern Prime."

Padmé sighed, knowing now was clearly the time to maximize her impact amidst this rote script. She pushed her pod forward, not bothering to wait for Mas Amedda to give her the floor knowing that he would not willingly anyway.

"My fellow Senators, I would tell you this is an outrage if you did not realize this already, if you are not tired by now of how often I have had to utter such extreme accusations before this body. But just because outrage has become part of our daily routine does not mean we should immunize ourselves from it. The people of Sern Prime are suffering, dying, and their voice is being silenced..."

"Enough," Nute Gunray yelled out from his Chancellor's podium. "Die Amidala die," he pretended to mutter under his breath, but speaking loudly enough for the entire chamber to hear. He raised his head and puffed up his chest, the Neimodian's approach to imitating the dignity of a high-minded politician. "I believe I speak for everyone when I say we are all tired of this bitch's screeching and nagging. Therefore, as the newly designated voice of Sern Prime by the legitimate rulers of the planet, I submit the motion to ban Amidala from ever talking again in this Senate room! Under presumption that this will obviously pass because I am great and everyone loves me and agrees with me and every hates bitch Amidala, I submit to preemptively enact this act and Amidala is not allowed to speak against it. I cannot beer to hear anymore of your disgusting voice..."

The Shut Up Amidala You Stupid Ugly Face Bad Haired Bitch Stupidhead Whore No One Likes You Everyone Love Gunray Act passed by a margin of twenty votes, and Obi-Wan shook his head as he and Sifo-Dyas escorted the Skywalkers up to the Supreme Chancellor's office.

"Does he realize," the younger Jedi Knight commented, "that such absurd abuses of power only helps your popularity amongst the masses?"

Padmé shook her head. "Unfortunately the voice of the masses are not represented in the Senate, and the Chancellor is clearly too short sighted to realize the long-term implications of his actions."

"There is no long term if his assassination attempts succeed," Sifo-Dyas warned forebodingly. "Are you sure you will be safe meeting with him without our presence?"

"What do you sense, Masters Jedi?"

Obi-Wan frowned, extending his senses into the Chancellor's office. "He is indeed alone, with only a few Senate guards around him. I do not sense any, well, excessive deceit or fear from anyone."

"Anakin will be able to protect me then," Padmé submitted. "As always, Masters Jedi, I thank you for your time and forbearance."

"Always a pleasure, Senator," Obi-Wan said, watching the couple disappear into the Chancellor's office. He turned to Sifo-Dyas. "If you have the situation in hand, I've been summoned for another briefing before the Council."

The older Jedi nodded without reply, and Obi-Wan Kenobi departed the Senate Chambers in silence.

"Senator Amidala, always a pleasure." The newly minted Supreme Chancellor of the Republic strode through his office imperiously, reaching up to a high cabinet for an ornate bottle. "Would you like a glass of Gunray's Best?"

Padmé shook her head, using the Force to block out the stench as Nute Gunray poured himself a glass of the pungent milky liquid. "What purpose do you have for this meeting, Chancellor Gunray..."

"Everyone loves Gunray's Best so much," the Supreme Chancellor interrupted, taking a sip and savoring the flavor of his concoction. "I believe it is far outselling your putrid little wine."

"The numbers tell a different story..."

"Do you know," Nute Gunray interrupted again, sitting down on his chair and intentionally placing his bare feet atop his desk, pointing his rotting toenails at the young Senator and her husband, "that many are already calling me Gunray the Great? After only six short months!"

Once again, the sith couple thanked the Force they could use the Force to block out the most offending smells.

"I do believe that there are some Senators whom you have threatened, bribed, or otherwise cajoled into making grandiose statements towards yourself...," Padmé asserted back, only to find herself interrupted yet again as the Chancellor swung his feet back down and leaned forward, trying his best to threaten the couple.

He frowned, and then pretended to smile, asking casually, "do you know why I've kept you alive?"

"I have endured many dozens of your assassination attempts by now, all failures..."

"...because I want to watch you squirm, Amidala!" The Supreme Chancellor pounded his fist loudly onto his table, only to shriek in pain as he only hurt himself in the process. Regaining his composure after a few seconds, he continued. "I want you to live in fear, never knowing when death will come. Then it will come. Death, that is. And you and your little wimp husband will die slowly and painfully, and I will have your head on a mantle in this desk, which I will bring to the Senate Chambers every single day, and I will string your head along a golden chain and wear your head around my neck, and I will drink..."

Padmé shook her head, almost as if she were a schoolteacher disappointed in a wayward student. "You had no reason to call me here, did you, Chancellor Gunray? You just wanted to gloat, and to waste my time in the process. I am only disappointed in myself, that I allowed this to happen once more..." She rose, ready to leave.

"You are a career politician, Amidala," Gunray screamed back, no longer able to hide his hatred and rage for his mortal enemy. "You should know better than anyone that every second spending with the Great-Supreme-Chancellor-Emperor-King is the greatest priviledge uncomprehenbissle to puny minds such as yourselves!" Behind him, his two Senate guards braced themselves, ready to act, and only Anakin quickly reaching for his blaster stopped the Chancellor from ordering yet another assassination, or would it be an execution, right then and there.

"You are slipping in your words again, Chancellor. Consider taking some basic to intermediate level vocabulary lessons. Grammar too. I wish you good day."

Unfazed by the Chancellor's rant, Padmé gracefully rose and made to exit the office, followed by Anakin, who glared back behind his shoulder as he followed his wife out, his steely blue eyes never leaving the Chancellor and his guards, and his hand never leaving his blaster.

"Don't you dare walk out on me vile woman..."

Master Sifo-Dyas awaited the two dutifully outside. His eyebrows rose as Padmé emerged, the two exchanging an all too familiar look that immediately and silently conveyed to the Jedi the usual shenanigans that just occurred in the new Chancellor's office, where Nute Gunray's histrionics could still be heard from behind closed doors. "The usual?"

"Should we expect any better," Padmé asked, shrugging. "His entire Chancellorship is a waste of time, though he clearly and especially delights in tormenting me."

"Thank you once more for your protection, Master Jedi," Anakin followed, nodding respectfully and professionally. "We cannot thank the Council enough for taking up so much of your time and Master Obi-Wan's."

As the couple walked past him, Sifo-Dyas spared one last suspicious glance towards the closed doors of the Chancellor's office, then dutifully trailed his charges as they made their leave. He shook his head. "We do our duty without pride and with no need for gratitude or thanks."

The old Jedi master stopped. Hearing his footsteps cease, Padmé and Anakin turned towards the man.

"Senator," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper again, "it is time. You must do your duty to the Galaxy now. We cannot afford to delay any further. Do you understand? You must understand."

Padmé sighed, appearing sad but resigned to the former member of the Jedi Council. "I was afraid you would bring this up now." She paced the hallway, as if trying to make a decision, stopping just before the Jedi master. Leaning in so that her head was placed as close to his ear as possible without appearing unduly intimate, she replied softly, "it will be done. We are running out of time for the Galaxy. I will make the arrangements."

Sifo-Dyas nodded, his stern countenance unable to hold back his satisfaction at her answer. His eyes found those of the young bodyguard, the boy whom many on the Council still believed to be the Chosen One. Such prophecies did not matter to him, only that he was on the right side, that he was willing to fight and die for Amidala. The boy's resolve matched his own, Sifo-Dyas realized as he stared into his blue eyes. Kriff the council on everything else.

Seemingly reading the Jedi's mind, the boy spoke. "Today starts the first day towards the restoration of the Galaxy. We will not fail."

Nightshade's sydneylover150: Thanks...a whole lotta plotting, of course. But will things go as much according to plan as the last story?

Guest: Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying...as for the future of this series, this one will certainly end the prequel arc. It's possible if I get inspiration/ideas I could continue on a few (assuming our heroes survive this one, of course!)

ichigo urahara Shihoin: Obi-Wan's suspicions are allayed for now, but still ultimately reside somewhere in the recesses of his mind.