Locke Horns

It is hard not to be awed by the grandeur of the senate chamber. Delegates from hundreds of worlds came resplendent in their finest dress and the clamor of as many languages filled the air before the session. Locke was over it all in five minutes. His program showed that he was not scheduled to speak. That made sense since he had not submitted any items for the day's agenda. He could see too that while the intent of the chamber was to create the idea of equality, it was actually anything but in practice. The highest physical positions were given to the poorest races and Locke doubted if their modules could even detach and hover in the open-air debates. They were also so far away that even shouting would not be enough to actually be heard. There was also an empty section below the poors, a silent insult to them as well.

The richest worlds, like Locke's, didn't have the lowest positions in the chamber, there was an elevation that the main dias would rise to, and at that location, where Palpatine could look out directly, those were the choicest positions. Those were the finest modules with there being freshly stocked drinks and food. Not that this place was a party, but at least he could have a decent buzz while aliens bickered of the price of this, the embargo of that, all pointless drivel to Locke, and had no impact on his day-to-day.

There were ten scheduled votes for the day, although he had no idea if that was a high number or not. The main points were already included in the days schedule. Locke did notice that the data reflected only one side's point of view, and each time it was the side he was expected to vote for. The decision wasn't his, he was there just to press one button or the other and look good doing so. The day crawled by and the last vote was coming up. It was a minor vote, authorizing funding for a new clone trooper upgrade. Locke wasn't against it per se, and only lip service was given to opposing the new spending. The large majority of senators cast their votes, and Locke decided to turn on the results on his console. The matter had an 85% vote in support. If Locke objected, if he voted no, it would be a pointless act of defiance. Still, something in him, perhaps the booze, had made him ornery and disagreeable, and just a little rebellious. With a minute left in the vote, Locke hovered his hand over the button that would cast a 'no'.

He pressed it. Hard.

The console registered his vote as 'Yes' to the measure, and seconds later the vote was closed, his vote officially cast, although not for what he had intended. Cold realization flooded his body and a strong wave of nausea began to flow from his gut upward. This too could be blamed on the booze and the now crystal-clear understanding that his actions were that of a puppet, and he had a good idea of who was pulling the strings.

Locke was angry. “I am no one’s puppet!” he muttered to himself.