Senate Secrets

"Don't ever bother the Chancellor," Fox says, tension still hardening his voice. "If you have any trouble, speak to Commander Jatt or Commander Thorn." He seems to lose himself in his own thoughts, until he hands them off to Jatt in his office.

"I'm returning to the Centre now. You'll be given some duties for the rest of the day, then be escorted back to the Centre in time for curfew."

"Yes, sir." Dia salutes as Fox strides out of the room.

Jatt studies his datapad, chewing thoughtfully on his lip. "For now you're just trying to settle in, do some recon – so don't try and steal any datapads or anything, alright?"

Dia and Boba nod.

"Now then. Senator Gallin requested someone to take notes for a meeting. He refuses to use a transcriber droid. Can either of you write?"

"Not well," Dia admits.

"I can," Boba says.

"Alright, head to Meeting Room 34-C," Jatt instructs, handing Boba a keycard. "Try not to get in trouble."

Boba rolls his eyes. "See you," he says to Dia.

"Good luck."

"What else…?" Jatt scrolls through his datapad. "Ah. Senator Farr needs a servoprocessor for a droid. Go pick one up from Repairs and deliver it."

"Yes, sir."

He makes his way to Repairs, run by a surly Besalisk who drops the components on the counter and shoos Dia away. Following Jatt's directions, he finds Senator Farr's office and knocks.

The door opens a moment later and a Rodian in striped purple robes pokes his head out.

"Hello," Dia says. "I'm Cadet Dia. I have the servoprocessor you need?"

"Oh, yes! Please, come in." The senator steps aside, and Dia walks into the office.

It's much smaller than the Chancellor's, but more comfortable and homely. An misty terrarium in the corner hosts several small green frogs.

"Thank you for bringing the part so quickly," Senator Farr says, wringing his thin hands, "but I'm afraid my aide has had to retire for the day – not feeling well, you see. And, well… I'm rather useless with droids."

Dragging his attention away from the slow-blinking frogs, Dia notices a small droid lying on the table, eyes dark.

"Oh, an LEP-series?" he says, stepping closer. "I've worked on lots of these. I can install the servoprocessor, if you like."

"Really? That would be wonderful."

Dia sets to work, prying open the LEP droid's control panel and poking through wires. He removes the old fried servoprocessor and carefully installs the new one. Farr watches with large, curious eyes.

As Dia snaps the control panel back into place, the droid's eyes flicker and light up. It beeps and clambers to its feet. Curiously, it studies its hands, turning them back and forth, then sticks out each leg in turn, beeping happily.

"You're welcome," Dia tells it with a smile. "Must be happy you can move again, huh?"

"It worked!" Farr exclaims, clapping his hands together. "I can't thank you enough – truly."

"It's no problem," Dia assures him. He picks up the droid and helps it back to the floor.

"There must be something I can do. Do you have any interest in politics?" the senator asks. 

"Um… sort of." Dia rubs the back of his neck. "Honestly, I don't really understand why the war's even happening."

"Ah, a troubling issue." Farr taps his chin. "Well, it began with the Separatist Crisis, though trouble had been brewing for years."

"The Separatist Crisis… when a bunch of systems left the Republic?" Dia recalls.

"Precisely. Led by Count Dooku, thousands of star systems seceded – er, left the Republic and formed their own confederacy. They believe the Republic is corrupt."

"Is it?"

"Corruption is everywhere, unfortunately." Farr sighs. "The conflict truly started with the Battle of Geonosis. I trust you have heard of it?"

Dia nods.

"The tension was bound to snap at some point. Geonosis was that point. Since then, there have been countless battles, countless deaths, and unimaginable cost to the Republic – both credits and conscience."

"I don't understand – why do the Republic and the Separatists have to fight?"

Farr chuckles without humour. "The innocence of a child. If only we all kept it."

Dia frowns. That didn't answer his question.

"I'm afraid I must prepare for my next meeting," Farr says. "Thank you, again."

Still troubled, Dia returns to Jatt's office. Boba is waiting, his arms crossed and expression disgruntled.

Dia clicks his tongue sympathetically. "Not a good day?"

Boba shakes his head. "Don't even ask."

After Jatt's debriefing, they return to the Centre for dinner and lights-out. Thorn and Hound both check in with them. Dia assures them it was fine.

---

The next day, Jatt hands Dia a list of droid repairs.

"Senator Farr spoke highly of you," he says with a smirk. "Though I think most just don't want to pay specialist fees."

Dia works his way through the jobs.

Most are simple – a broken servomotor here, a malfunctioning ocular component there. Some he has to refer to specialists, wishing he was good enough to fix it himself.

As the day winds down, he reaches the last job on his list.

Humming quietly to himself, he knocks on the door. There's shuffling, and a long moment passes before the door hisses open.

"What?" the senator demands, leaning out.

"Sorry to bother you. I'm here about the…" Dia trails off, catching a glimpse of the office behind the senator. A clone kneels by the couch, helmet off and eyes wide as he stares at Dia. A red mark blooms across his cheek. "Uh… Trooper Set is needed," he blurts, inventing a name.

"Huh?"

"Commander's orders. Very urgent."

The senator narrows his eyes, then clicks his mandibles. "Fine. Get out," he snaps at the clone, who scrambles to his feet, jamming his helmet back on.

He slows enough to salute to the senator, but practically sprints out of the office. The door shuts behind them.

"Are you alright?" Dia asks, taking the trooper's hand and leading him to the elevator.

He nods, entire body tense as a coiled wire. He clutches Dia's hand.

Dia doesn't have to ask; he's seen the same on Nal Hutta and Tatooine. Slaves are considered less than people, after all. No one cares how they suffer.

Is it the same for clones? he wonders with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He shakes his head to clear it, and quickly finds another trooper.

"Excuse me!" he calls.

"Yeah?" The trooper turns. "Hey, Glow, are you okay?" The trooper hurries over, grabbing Glow's other hand.

Glow shakes his head, trembling.

"I think he needs the medbay," Dia speaks up.

The other trooper nods slowly. "Okay. Okay, let's go."

Dia finds himself following all the way to the medbay, shockingly almost full. Medics press bacta patches to bruised flesh and clones wince as hypo-spray knits their wounds back together.

It doesn't take long for Dia to realize they're not all combat injuries.

---

When he gets the incident report, Jatt takes Dia and Boba aside and shows them the senator blacklist.

"Avoid all of them," he warns.

"The senators should be punished," Boba spits. "It's a crime, isn't it? Why are you just letting it happen?"

Jatt's eyes glint darkly. "You think clones have any rights? There's nothing I can do. Even if there was, the senators would just wriggle out of the charges." He rubs his chin with a defeated sigh. "The most we can do is distract them, like Dia did today."

"Then I'll keep doing that." Dia steps forward. "We will. Right, Boba?"

Boba nods. However much he resents the clones, Dia knows he doesn't want them to suffer.

Jatt releases a breath. "Alright. Just don't endanger yourselves. And… thank you."

Between jobs, they keep a close watch, and invent summons or issues to drag troopers away whenever they see a situation beginning. Most won't meet their eyes after, and walk away quickly. Dia starts to understand why their armour is all painted the same.

He hopes at least a few of the cruel senators are traitors.

Some senators, thankfully, are good-natured – including Senator Farr, who introduces Dia to several of his peers. A few are awkward, but the others have a soft spot for children: they teach and quiz Dia and Boba about politics and the laws of the Republic, offering candies for correct answers, and patting Dia's head. Senator Farr tries to pat Boba's head once and nearly has his hand bitten off.

Dia especially likes Senator Amidala of Naboo, who radiates warmth like a kinder Tatooine sun. She is, in fact, on the good list kept by the clones.

Happy to help Dia expand his political knowledge, Amidala lets him sit in on Senate meetings in her repulsorpod in the Grand Convocation Hall. Dia watches and listens silently to the arguments and debates about the war.

He still doesn't understand why the fighting has to happen. No one can give him a straight answer; they just sigh or chuckle, and call him naïve.

Dia wonders if the Jedis' opinions are different, as he sees the Jedi Temple aglow in sunrise on his way to the Senate Building one morning.

He leans his head against his hand and gazes out the window thoughtfully. I'll have to ask Master Obi-Wan when he returns for our reports.