Anakin's heart clenched as Padmé's holographic figure materialized before him, her usually composed demeanor replaced by visible tension and fear. The worry lines around her eyes and the rigid set of her shoulders told him everything he needed to know—something was terribly wrong.
"To all Republic forces within range of this transmission, I am Padmé Amidala, Senator of the Galactic Republic," her voice carried across the communication channels with barely controlled urgency. "The Separatists have launched a full-scale assault on Naboo. Enemy forces are currently bombarding the planet surface and engaging our orbital defense fleet. Additional Separatist reinforcements continue to arrive in Naboo's system."
Bail Organa's voice joined the transmission, his tone equally grave: "The people of Naboo are fighting valiantly, but without immediate reinforcement, the planet will fall to Separatist occupation within hours."
Senator Riyo Chuchi's worried voice added another layer of desperation to the plea: "Hundreds of civilians, fellow senators, members of Naboo's royal court, and Queen Jamillia herself are currently sheltering within the halls of Theed Palace. Thousands more citizens throughout Theed's districts remain trapped and in mortal danger."
"Please," Padmé's voice cracked slightly, betraying the fear she tried so hard to suppress, "anyone who can hear this—Naboo needs your help. Our people are running out of time." The transmission cut to static, leaving an ominous silence in its wake.
Anakin's hands clenched into fists as worry for his wife's safety consumed his thoughts. Around him, the assembled Jedi Masters exchanged troubled glances, clearly stunned by this sudden and coordinated Separatist offensive.
"I didn't expect Count Dooku to strike again so soon," Mace Windu muttered, his expression darkening with concern.
Obi-Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully, his frown deepening. "And they've specifically targeted the homeworld of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine and one of our most vocal senators. This isn't random—it's strategic."
"We have to move immediately," Anakin said, his voice tight with barely restrained panic. "My fleet and Obi-Wan's are both within striking distance of Naboo. We can be there in hours."
"My task force is positioned nearby as well," Aayla Secura declared, stepping forward with determination.
"As is mine," Plo Koon added, his mechanical voice carrying its usual calm authority.
Master Yoda closed his eyes briefly, as if consulting the Force itself. When he opened them, his decision was final. "Go to Naboo immediately, you four must. Waste no time." He paused, his ancient features troubled. "Strong in the Force, this attack is... Answers we seek, from Naboo they may come..."
Captain Rex approached Anakin with a datapad in hand. "General, we've received intelligence on the Separatist fleet composition targeting Naboo." Behind him, clone troopers were already rushing to prepare for hyperspace jump and combat operations.
Rex's expression was grim as he displayed the tactical readout. "Sir, we're looking at nearly a dozen Separatist capital ships, including three Providence-class Star Destroyers, multiple Munificent-class frigates, Lucrehulk battleships, several dreadnoughts, and at least six Gozanti-class cruisers providing fighter support."
"They're not just occupying Naboo," Obi-Wan observed, studying the formation with tactical precision. "They're prepared for a full-scale battle."
Commander Cody joined the briefing, his voice urgent. "Naboo's defense fleet won't last much longer against those odds, General. If the Separatists have already achieved orbital superiority—and our intelligence suggests they have—the remaining Naboo ships will be eliminated within the hour without immediate support."
"Then we'd better move fast," Plo Koon stated matter-of-factly. "Anakin, Obi-Wan—take your combined fleets and approach from the northern vector. My forces will execute a flanking maneuver from the rear, while Aayla coordinates a lateral assault from the system's edge."
Anakin nodded sharply, his mind already racing through tactical possibilities. "A three-pronged attack should divide their attention and give us the advantage we need."
As Anakin and Obi-Wan transmitted orders to their respective fleets—preparing all starfighters for immediate launch, readying gunships for planetary assault, and bringing all ground forces to combat readiness—Anakin's thoughts kept drifting to Padmé. He knew she was strong, resourceful, and capable of taking care of herself, but that knowledge did little to ease the knot of worry in his chest. As her husband, the need to protect her was overwhelming, even when duty demanded he focus on the larger battle ahead.
Meanwhile, on Naboo's surface, the aftermath of Ventress's assassination attempt had left everyone on edge. Captain Panaka, still tense from the attack and suspicious of any new arrivals, had his blaster trained on Scott Lang 'Ant-man' the moment the man appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
"How did you get inside the palace?" Panaka demanded, his finger hovering over the trigger. "Security protocols were activated after the attack. No one should be able to enter undetected."
Scott raised his hands slowly, trying to defuse the situation. "Look, I know this looks bad, but I'm one of the good guys here. I helped save lives during that attack."
The captain's eyes narrowed. "Prove it. How do I know you're not another assassin?"
The confrontation might have escalated further if not for Padmé's intervention. She stepped between them, her voice carrying the authority of her senatorial position. "Captain Panaka, stand down. This man and his companions were instrumental in protecting my sister and niece during the attack. If they were enemies, Sola and Ryoo would not be safe right now."
Bail Organa nodded in agreement. "Senator Amidala is correct. These individuals have already demonstrated their loyalty through their actions."
Panaka slowly lowered his weapon, though his posture remained alert. "My apologies, Senator. Given recent events, I'm taking no chances with palace security."
It was then that Steve Rogers stepped forward, his presence commanding immediate attention from everyone in the room. His next words would change the course of their defense efforts entirely.
"Your Majesty, Senators," Steve began, addressing Queen Jamillia and the assembled dignitaries with respectful formality, "I've been monitoring the situation throughout Theed, and I need to inform you of what's happening beyond these palace walls."
The room fell silent as Steve continued, his voice steady but grave. "Separatist battle droids are conducting systematic sweeps through the civilian districts. They're not just occupying strategic locations—they're targeting non-combatants. Families are trapped in their homes, children are separated from their parents, and people are being executed in the streets for simply trying to flee."
Queen Jamillia's face paled at this news, while several senators exchanged horrified glances.
"The situation is deteriorating rapidly," Steve continued. "Your palace guards and security forces are doing their best, but they're outnumbered and outgunned. If we don't act soon, the civilian casualties will be catastrophic."
Steve straightened, his decision already made. "With your permission, I'd like to take a team back into the city. We can coordinate with your remaining forces, establish evacuation routes for trapped civilians, and hold strategic positions until Republic reinforcements arrive."
Padmé looked at Steve with a mixture of admiration and concern. "Captain Rogers, you've already done so much to help us. I can't ask you to risk your life again."
"You're not asking, Senator," Steve replied with a slight smile. "I'm volunteering. It's what I do."
When word spread among the clone troopers that Steve and Sam were planning to return to the battlefield, every available soldier immediately stepped forward to volunteer. Their faces showed the kind of determination that came from having fought alongside someone they respected and trusted.
Steve surveyed the assembled clones, feeling a familiar surge of pride in these brave men. "I appreciate your courage, all of you. Our primary mission will be civilian evacuation and establishing safe corridors to get people out of the combat zones. Secondary objectives include disrupting droid patrol patterns and holding key defensive positions."
Without another word, Steve led his volunteer squad out of the palace's protective walls and back into the war-torn streets of Theed.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the rubble-strewn plaza as Steve pressed himself against a damaged speeder, plasma bolts sizzling past his position. He held up a closed fist, signaling his team to hold their current positions. The clone troopers behind him—including Chuck and Jolly, two of the first clones he and Sam had encountered upon arriving on Naboo—waited with disciplined patience for their next orders.
Steve's tactical mind was already three moves ahead, calculating angles and trajectories. His eyes locked onto a curved balcony protruding from a building to his left, then shifted to assess a thick architectural column supporting a structure to his right. The shield's path was clear in his mind.
Turning to face the clones behind him, Steve pointed at the substantial column, then held up three fingers and began counting down silently. The soldiers tensed, weapons ready, understanding that whatever their captain had planned, they needed to be prepared to move the instant he gave the signal.
As Steve's final finger dropped, he burst from cover in a fluid motion, his vibranium shield spinning through the air toward the distant balcony. The battle droids, recognizing the deadly projectile from previous encounters, scrambled to avoid what they assumed would be a direct impact.
But Steve's throw was more sophisticated than a simple attack. As the droids ducked and scattered, the clone troopers moved to their designated positions behind the column, laying down suppressing fire that kept the confused droids pinned.
The shield struck the balcony at precisely the angle Steve had calculated, ricocheting with perfect momentum to slice through a line of battle droids. Upon hitting the ground, it bounced upward at an impossible angle, destroying several more droids before arcing back through the air to land perfectly in Steve's waiting hand.
"This is Steve Rogers reporting," he said into his newly acquired comlink, which connected directly to the palace command center. "Sector 284 is now secure and clear for civilian evacuation."
Sam's voice crackled through the communicator from several blocks away. "Battle's wrapped up on our end, Cap. Scott and I just finished clearing out a whole squad of those tin cans with some local clone support."
Scott's voice chimed in, still carrying a note of disbelief: "I still can't wrap my head around the fact that we're literally on another planet in a completely different galaxy. This is insane."
Sam chuckled, though there was an edge to his laughter that betrayed his own amazement at their situation. "What's wrong, Scott? Thought going subatomic prepared you for anything. You getting scared of a little interstellar travel?"
But Steve's mind had wandered to something else entirely. As he listened to his friends' banter, Senator Padmé's face kept appearing in his thoughts. There was something familiar about her, something that nagged at the back of his mind. He felt certain he had seen her before, but the memory remained frustratingly elusive.
Steve shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the present. Whatever mystery surrounded his sense of familiarity with the senator would have to wait. Right now, people were counting on him to keep them safe.
Over the next several hours, Steve, along with several Naboo Security Force members, led a series of precisely coordinated strikes throughout Theed's districts. Each successful engagement strengthened their defensive perimeter and provided safe passage for more civilians to reach evacuation points.
The news from the palace brought both hope and pressure: Republic reinforcements were indeed en route, but the fleet would need time to navigate hyperspace and engage the Separatist blockade. Until then, the ground forces would have to hold their positions and protect as many lives as possible.
Throughout this extended battle, Steve, Sam, and Scott continued to amaze everyone they encountered—Naboo citizens, security personnel, clone troopers, and even the senators and royalty monitoring the situation from the palace. Their fighting abilities seemed to transcend normal human limitations, and their tactical coordination was unlike anything the local forces had ever witnessed.
Steve and Sam had developed an almost cult-like following among the clone troopers. Whenever word spread that the two men were planning another mission, volunteers would immediately present themselves, eager to serve under their command. The clones had never encountered non-Jedi leaders who inspired such confidence and loyalty.
Scott presented a particularly fascinating enigma to the people of Naboo. His size-manipulation abilities seemed to defy all known laws of physics, and even when measured against the seemingly impossible powers of the Jedi Order, his capabilities remained incomprehensible to most observers.
"Sir?"
Steve blinked, realizing that Chuck had been trying to get his attention.
"Captain Rogers, are you alright?" Chuck asked, his voice carrying genuine concern for his commanding officer.
"I'm fine, Chuck," Steve replied, refocusing on the present moment. "Just thinking through our next moves. What's our current status?"
Chuck activated a small disc-shaped device that projected a three-dimensional hologram of Theed, complete with troop positions and tactical overlays. "Sir, we're successfully pushing back Separatist forces street by street. Thanks to your strategic deployments, we've established strong defensive fortifications throughout the ground level, and our anti-aircraft installations are now fully operational and providing effective cover."
"What about civilian casualties and evacuations?"
"Excellent news on that front, sir," Chuck replied, his voice brightening with enthusiasm. "We've received reports from the Gungan settlements that they've taken in several thousand refugees from the outlying areas. The remaining civilians are secure within the palace compound and other designated safe zones throughout the city."
Steve placed a hand on Chuck's shoulder, feeling genuinely proud of what they had accomplished together. "Outstanding work, soldier. Pass the word to everyone—we're taking a five-minute rest break."
"Yes, sir!" Chuck responded with crisp military precision before turning to address the other clones. "Alright, everyone, Captain's orders—five minutes to rest and regroup."
As Steve watched the clone troopers settle into relaxed positions, sharing jokes and war stories among themselves, he couldn't help but smile. Despite being in an impossible situation in a galaxy far from home, surrounded by technology and conflicts beyond anything he could have imagined, some things remained wonderfully familiar: the camaraderie of soldiers, the satisfaction of protecting innocent lives, and the unbreakable bonds formed in the crucible of battle.
The fight for Naboo was far from over, but for this moment, Steve Rogers allowed himself to appreciate the small victory of seeing good men take a well-deserved rest.