Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith Read online

  But for some reason, he felt as if he’d said good-bye to his best friend and former apprentice for the last time.

  Anakin stood watching until the last clone trooper boarded the starcruiser. Only when the ship took off did he leave the landing area. He felt empty and adrift, as if he’d lost an anchor. And I never did get to talk to Obi-Wan about the Jedi Council.

  Without thinking about it, Anakin headed for Padmé’s apartment. Though she had lived mainly on Coruscant for nearly ten years, her rooms held the peace and comfort of her home planet, Naboo. He needed that peace and comfort right now.

  She still keeps the temperature too low, though, Anakin thought as he entered. He smiled. It was an old argument between them. His own home, Tatooine, was a desert planet, and although he had adjusted to the varying climates of planets all over the Republic, he still felt most comfortable when the air was warmer than most beings preferred.

  Something in him relaxed as he called a greeting to Padmé and sat down to work on his report for the Council. This was what mattered: this place where he was always welcomed and loved. Where he could be himself, just Anakin Skywalker, eating and sleeping and kissing his wife like other, ordinary people. Home.

  He heard Padmé enter the room behind him. With her came the faint traces of a familiar presence. Anakin lowered his datascanner. “Obi-Wan’s been here, hasn’t he?” he asked.

  “He came by this morning,” Padmé confirmed.

  That must have been right before the Council meeting, Anakin thought. Why didn’t he say anything to me? “What did he want?” he asked.

  “He’s worried about you.”

  Why would Obi-Wan come to Padmé if he was worried about Anakin? Unless—“You told him about us, didn’t you?” Anakin couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice.

  Padmé glanced at him and walked on, into the bedroom. Anakin followed, waiting. Finally, she said, “He’s your best friend, Anakin. He says you’re under a lot of stress.”

  “And he’s not?”

  “You have been moody lately.”

  “I’m not moody!” He flung the words at her, wishing he could shout at Obi-Wan, too. They’re acting like I’m a child.

  “Anakin!” Padmé looked at him with a tired sadness that cut at his heart. “Don’t do this again.”

  Anakin turned away, wondering how he could explain. I killed a defenseless prisoner, against the Code. The Jedi Council asked me to spy on the Chancellor, also against the Jedi Code. The Chancellor says the Council wants to take over the Republic. The Council says the Chancellor has too much power. I don’t know anymore who to believe or what to believe in. And I’m so afraid of losing you that I can’t think straight and none of the rest of it matters. “I don’t know,” he told her at last. “I feel…lost.”

  “Lost?” Padmé gazed at him in surprised concern. “You’re always so sure of yourself. I don’t understand.”

  “Obi-Wan and the Council don’t trust me.” And I’m not sure I can trust them.

  Padmé shook her head. “They trust you with their lives. Obi-Wan loves you as a son.”

  Maybe Obi-Wan does. But he’s gone, hunting General Grievous. He tried again. “Something’s happening. I’m not the Jedi I should be.” Padmé shook her head again, and he held up a hand to stop her. “I am one of the most powerful Jedi, but I’m not satisfied. I want more, but I know I shouldn’t.”

  “You’re only human, Anakin,” Padmé told him gently. “No one expects any more.”

  Yes, they do. And I do. That was why Obi-Wan kept lecturing him about pride and ambition and jealousy—and that was why he hated those lectures so much. Because he knew Obi-Wan was right. A Jedi Knight shouldn’t have those thoughts. Anakin closed his eyes. He should have known Padmé wouldn’t understand. She wasn’t a Jedi.

  But she would be the mother of his child. Anakin felt a tingle of fear and excitement at the thought. “I have found a way to save you,” he said.

  “Save me?”

  “From my nightmares.” Surely she hasn’t forgotten!

  Padmé smiled slightly. “Is that what’s bother-ing you?”

  “I won’t lose you, Padmé.”

  “I’m not going to die in childbirth, Anakin,” she said quietly. “I promise you.”

  “No, I promise you!” Recklessly, he made the vow, though he did not yet have the power to fulfill it. Chancellor Palpatine might think that the story of Darth Plagueis was only a legend, but Anakin knew it was true. He could feel it. And if Darth Plagueis could discover the secret, so could he. There was time. “I will become powerful enough to keep you from dying.”

  Padmé caught his eyes and held them. “You don’t need more power, Anakin,” she said slowly and seriously. “I believe you can protect me against anything, just as you are.”

  And I will, Anakin thought as he gathered her into his arms. I will protect you. No matter what it takes.

  All the way to Utapau, Obi-Wan considered how best to find and destroy General Grievous. If they blasted their way in, Grievous would only run away again—the droid general was always careful to have an escape ship stashed somewhere close to his command center. He might not even be with his armies. His command center might be hidden in one part of the Utapau system, while his droids massed for an attack somewhere else.

  So Obi-Wan decided to keep his clone troops in space aboard the Jedi cruiser and search the system himself, quietly. That way, he could be sure that when he told his forces to attack, they would be attacking the right place.

  Commander Cody accepted the order without question, as he always did. The clones had been genetically engineered to take orders; that was why each major offensive needed a Jedi Knight as general. Though he had worked and fought with the clones for years, their willingness to follow any order, no matter how unreasonable, still made Obi-Wan uneasy. Free beings shouldn’t be so…obedient.

  Obi-Wan snorted. How many times had he complained about Anakin’s independence and headstrong ways? And here he was, worried because his clone troops were too compliant. Anakin would laugh himself sick if he knew what his Master was thinking.

  The planet of Utapau looked peaceful enough as Obi-Wan flew over it in his starfighter. He saw no sign of the droid armies. The huge sinkhole cities looked quiet. Well, he hadn’t expected General Grievous to be out in plain sight, and Utapau was officially neutral. He’d have to refuel and search the rest of the system.

  Arranging a landing was no problem. A worried-looking local administrator even came out to the ship to greet him. Obi-Wan bowed politely to him. “With your kind permission, I would like some fuel, and to use your city as a base to search nearby systems.”

  The administrator gestured, and a ground crew rushed out to service the fighter. “What are you searching for?” he asked as if it were of no particular interest.

  “A droid army,” Obi-Wan replied. “Led by General Grievous.”

  The Utapauan held very still for a moment. Then he leaned sideways, as if he were inspecting the underside of Obi-Wan’s fighter. The movement brought his head close to Obi-Wan and hid his face from the windows above. Very quietly, he said, “Grievous is here! We are being held hostage. They are watching us.”

  “I understand,” Obi-Wan replied just as softly. If he made the wrong move, the droids would slaughter thousands of civilians. No wonder the administrator was worried!

  “The tenth level,” the Utapauan whispered before he straightened up. Obi-Wan nodded and walked back to the starfighter. He made a show of ducking underneath it, to make it seem as if he were studying something the Utapaun had pointed out. Then he climbed back into the fighter.

  As the ground crew finished its work, Obi-Wan set up a secure communication channel to his clone troops. “I have located General Grievous,” he told the commander. “Report to the Jedi Council at once. I’m staying here.”

  He cut the signal, then gave a few quick instructions to his R4 unit and slipped out of the sta
rfighter on the far side of the cockpit. By the time the fighter took off, he was hidden in the shadows at the entrance to the sinkhole city. Now all I have to do is get to the tenth level and defeat Grievous.

  Getting there was actually much easier than he expected. The stairs were blocked and the elevators had been shut down, but no one had bothered to put a guard on the open walls of the sinkhole itself. All Obi-Wan had to do was find one of the giant lizards that the Utapauans used as riding beasts. The lizard climbed the sinkhole wall easily, and soon Obi-Wan was riding across the edge of the tenth level, searching for the control center.

  He found it a quarter of the way around the sinkhole—the hordes of battle droids made it unmis- takable, even if General Grievous himself hadn’t been standing at the far end along with the members of the Separatist Council. That was an unexpected complication. He couldn’t take on all of them—and all their formidable bodyguards—at once, not alone. Besides, if he could get close enough to hear what they were saying, he might find out some of their plans. He climbed down from the lizard and slipped along a high, narrow walkway, hoping the sound of their voices would carry once he got near enough.

  General Grievous surveyed the Separatist Council with disgust—the Neimoidians, Nute Gunray and Rune Haako, who represented the Trade Federation; archduke Poggle the Lesser, who was oddly fierce-looking for a banker; Shu Mai, San Hill, Wat Tambor, and the rest. Not for the first time, Grievous was glad that his smooth metal face could show no emotion. It would be unfortunate if these beings realized how much contempt he had for them.

  The Council stirred. If he let them start talking again, they’d be here all day. They’d already wasted too much time asking questions and solemnly discussing pointless alternatives. It was time to make them move. “It won’t be long before the armies of the Republic track us here,” Grievous told them bluntly. “Make your way to the Mustafar system in the Outer Rim. You will be safe there.”

  Nute Gunray goggled at Grievous. His large bulging eyes made him look vaguely froglike. “Safe?” he sputtered. “Chancellor Palpatine managed to escape your grip, General. I have doubts about your ability to keep us safe.”

  There was a murmur of agreement from the other councilors. Grievous drew himself up to his full height and thrust his head toward the indignant Neimoidian. “Be thankful, Viceroy, that you have not found yourself in my grip,” he said in a low, menacing voice. Gunray shrank away, and the murmuring died abruptly. Grievous waited to be sure the lesson had sunk in. “Your ship is waiting,” he told the group.

  The Separatist Council could hardly wait to leave. Grievous stood motionless and silently threatening as the Councilors hurried out, casting nervous backward glances in his direction. It takes so little to frighten ordinary beings, he thought. And fear is so useful…

  Now all he had to do was stay on Utapau until that annoying Jedi fell into the trap. With luck, it wouldn’t be a long wait.

  When the Separatist Council filed out, Obi-Wan stayed motionless, hoping that some of the hundreds of battle droids would leave, too. None of them moved. This is it, then. Obi-Wan took just a moment longer, to center himself in the living Force. Then he took off his cloak and leaped down, landing lightly right in front of General Grievous.

  The droid general’s smooth metal face was impossible to read, but his tone was puzzled as he said, “I find your behavior bewildering. Surely you realize you’re doomed.”

  “I’ve brought two full legions with me,” Obi-Wan said. “And this time, you won’t escape.”

  Grievous signaled, and his four bodyguards stepped forward, whirling their electro-staffs.

  Obi-Wan ducked and ignited his lightsaber. He feinted, to keep the droids’ attention on his weapon while he used the Force to drop a huge rectagular slab of durasteel down from the ceiling.

  The tactic worked even better than he’d hoped. Three of the guards were crushed outright; the fourth was partially pinned, and was struggling to get at his electro-staff. Obi-Wan’s lightsaber cut him neatly apart as he went past, heading for General Grievous.

  More droids poured into the room, but General Grievous waved them off. He threw back his cloak, revealing the belt hung with the stolen lightsabers of the Jedi he’d killed. Reaching down, he took two in each hand. What does he think he’s doing? Obi-Wan wondered, and then the general’s metal arms split lengthwise, and Obi-Wan was facing a four-armed enemy with a lightsaber in each hand.

  “Count Dooku trained me in the Jedi arts,” Grievous said, and attacked. He spun two of the lightsabers like deadly buzzsaws, while he stabbed with the other two whenever he saw an opening.

  It was almost like fighting four different people at once. Obi-Wan’s lightsaber blurred as he blocked and parried, but he knew he couldn’t keep that up for long. Time for a different approach. He leaped, flipping high over Grievous to land behind him.

  Grievous didn’t have to turn; he just rotated his mechanical body until he faced the other way. But even doing that took time and threw off his attack, just enough to let Obi-Wan’s lightsaber swirl past his guard. Two of his four arms dropped to the floor, still gripping their stolen lightsabers.

  Before Grievous could adjust, and attack with his two remaining lightsabers, Obi-Wan reached for the Force. He lifted Grievous into the air, throwing him against one of the beams that supported the upper level. The impact shook the lightsabers out of his grasp. They landed on the floor of the control center, while Grievous slid past the edge of the floor and fell to the level below.

  The room was filling up with blaster fire; the clone troopers had arrived and were keeping the battle droids busy. Obi-Wan rushed to the edge in time to see Grievous scuttle toward a one-man wheel scooter. I knew it! He has an escape ship somewhere, and he thinks he’s going to get to it while these droids keep me busy! Well, not this time.

  In a fury of light, Obi-Wan sent a volley of shots back at the battle droids and whistled for his riding lizard, just as the general kicked his scooter into motion and roared away. The lizard jumped down, landing on a battle droid. Obi-Wan leaped onto the lizard’s back, and took off after Grievous.

  Anakin frowned as he hurried through the halls of the Senate Office building. It should be good news that he was bringing to Chancellor Palpatine, but the way Master Windu talked during the Jedi Council meeting had made him uneasy. The clone commander said that Obi-Wan has found General Grievous. The hologram transmission had, for once, been perfectly clear, with none of the wavering and static caused by jammers or other interference. Anakin had even seen the clone troopers in the background, preparing for the assault.

  He’d expected the other Council members to be elated. Instead, they’d looked grave and made ambiguous remarks about watching the Chancellor’s reaction to the news. The war is going to be over soon. Of course he’ll be happy! What else are they expecting?

  But Chancellor Palpatine received the news with the same serious expression as the Council members had. “Finding this droid general is not the same as defeating him,” Palpatine murmured. “We can only hope that Master Kenobi is up for the challenge.”

  “I should be there with him,” Anakin said.

  “It upsets me that the Council doesn’t fully appreciate your talents,” the Chancellor went on. “Don’t you wonder why they wouldn’t make you a Jedi Master?”

  “I wish I knew.” Anakin shook his head. “I know there are things about the Force that they are not telling me.”

  “They don’t trust you, Anakin.” Palpatine paused. “They want to take control of the Senate.”

  “That’s not true,” Anakin said automatically. Jedi didn’t want power. But if the Jedi Council doesn’t care about power, why are they so worried about the Chancellor?

  “Are you sure? What if I am right, and they are plotting to take over the Republic?” Chancellor Palpatine shook his head in mild exasperation. “Anakin! Break through the fog of lies the Jedi have created. I am your friend. Let me help you to learn
the true ways of the Force.”

  Anakin felt a cold chill. Palpatine wasn’t a Jedi. “How do you know the ways of the Force?”

  “My mentor taught me everything,” Palpatine replied calmly. “Even the nature of the dark side.”

  “You know the dark side?” Anakin stopped short as the sense of the words crashed down onto him. “You’re a Sith Lord!” he said, and ignited his lightsaber.

  Chancellor Palpatine, whose Sith name was Darth Sidious, looked calmly at the angry young Jedi with the glowing lightsaber. This was the point toward which all his plots and plans had been heading for many years. “Yes, I am a Sith Lord,” he told Anakin. As Anakin raised his lightsaber, Palpatine added gently, “And I am also the one who has held this Republic together during these troubled times. I am not your enemy, Anakin.”

  He could sense Anakin’s growing confusion, and suppressed a smile. These Jedi expected all Sith Lords to be like those apprentices of his, Darth Maul and Darth Tyranus—ready to whip out a lightsaber the moment they were discovered. But a lightsaber was such an obvious weapon. Words were better. All you could do with a lightsaber was kill the man you faced. With words, you could change his mind, so that he would help you instead of fighting you. That was true power.

  And Anakin was listening to him. Time, now, to begin the final stage that would turn Anakin to the dark side at last. Palpatine let his tone fall into lecturing. “Anakin, if one is to understand a great mystery, one must study all aspects of it, not just the dogmatic, narrow view of the Jedi. If you wish to become a complete and wise leader, you must embrace a larger view of the Force.”

  He paused, to give his words time to sink in. Then, in a deliberately different tone, he went on. “Be careful of the Jedi, Anakin. They fear you. In time, they will destroy you.” He put pleading into his voice, like the kindly uncle he had pretended to be for so long. “Let me train you, Anakin. I will show you the true nature of the Force.”