Attack of the Clones (39 page)

“Unusual,” Dooku said again. “But not enough to save you this time!” He came on hard, thinking to drive Anakin back and off balance as he had driven Obi-Wan back. But Anakin held his ground stubbornly, his green blade flashing left, right, and down so forcefully and precisely that none of Dooku’s attacks got through.

Off to the side, Obi-Wan understood that it couldn’t hold. Anakin was expending many times the energy of the efficient Dooku, and as soon as he tired …

Obi-Wan knew that he had to do something. He tried to come forward, but winced and fell back, in too much pain. As he collected his thoughts, he reached out with the Force instead, grabbing at his lightsaber and pulling it in to his grasp. “Anakin!” he called, and he tossed the young Padawan the blade. Anakin caught it without ever breaking the flow of his fighting, turning it under and igniting it immediately, putting it into the swirling flow.

Obi-Wan watched in admiration as Anakin worked the two blades in perfect harmony, spinning them over and about with blinding speed and precision.

And he watched with similar feelings the working of
Count Dooku’s red lightsaber, flashing ahead and back with equal precision, picking off attack after attack and even countering once or twice to interrupt the flow of Anakin’s barrage.

Obi-Wan’s heart leapt in hope as Anakin charged forward suddenly, bringing his green blade over his shoulder and across, down at the Count. Obi-Wan understood immediately, even before he noted Anakin’s blue blade coming up and over the other way—the green blade would push the Count’s lightsaber out of the way, clearing the path for the victorious strike!

But Dooku retracted impossibly fast, and Anakin’s down-cutting green blade hit nothing but air.

Dooku stabbed straight ahead, intercepting the blue blade. The Count’s hand worked up inside and over, then back around with a sudden twist, launching the blue lightsaber from Anakin’s grasp. Dooku went on the offensive immediately, driving the surprised and off-balance Anakin back.

Anakin fought hard to regain his fighting posture, but Dooku was relentless, thrusting repeatedly, keeping the young Padawan stumbling backward.

And then he stopped, suddenly, and almost on reflex, Anakin turned back on him, roaring and slashing hard.

“No!” Obi-Wan cried.

Dooku stabbed ahead and slashed out suddenly, intercepting not Anakin’s green blade, but the Padawan’s arm, at the elbow. Half of Anakin’s arm flew to the side, his hand still gripping the lightsaber.

Anakin dropped to the ground, grabbing his severed arm in agony.

Dooku gave another of his resigned shrugs. “And so it ends,” he said for the second time.

Even as he spoke, though, the great hangar doors of
the tower slid open, smoke from the battle outside pouring in. And through that smoke came a diminutive figure, but one seeming taller than all of them at that moment.

“Master Yoda,” Dooku breathed.

“Count Dooku,” said Yoda.

Dooku’s eyes widened and he stepped back, turning to face Yoda directly. He brought his lightsaber up to his face, shut down the blade, then snapped it to the side in formal salute. “You have interfered with our plans for the last time.”

A wave of Dooku’s free hand sent a piece of machinery flying at the diminutive Jedi Master, seeming as if it would surely crush him.

But Yoda was ready, waving his own hand, Force-pushing the flying machinery harmlessly aside.

Dooku clutched up at the ceiling, breaking free great blocks that tumbled down at Yoda.

But small hands waved and the boulders dropped to the sides, bouncing across the floor all about the untouched Master Yoda.

Dooku gave a little growl and thrust forth his hand, loosing a line of blue lightning at the diminutive Master.

Yoda caught it in his own hand and turned it aside, but far from easily.

“Powerful you have become, Dooku,” Yoda admitted, and the Count grinned—but Yoda promptly took that grin away by adding, “The dark side I sense in you.”

“I have become more powerful than any Jedi,” Dooku countered. “Even you, my old Master!”

More lightning poured forth from Dooku’s hand, but Yoda continued to catch it and turn it, and seemed to become even more settled in his defensive posture.

“Much to learn you still have,” Yoda remarked.

Dooku disengaged the futile lightning assault. “It is
obvious this contest will not be decided by our knowledge of the Force, but by our skills with a lightsaber.”

Yoda reverently drew out his lightsaber, its green blade humming to life.

Dooku gave a crisp salute, igniting his own red blade, but then, formalities over, he leapt at Yoda, a sudden and devastating thrust.

But one that never got close to hitting. With hardly a movement, Yoda turned the blade aside.

Dooku went into a wild flurry then, the likes of which he had not shown against Obi-Wan or Anakin, raining blows at the diminutive Master. But Yoda didn’t even seem to move. He didn’t step back or to the side, yet his subtle dodges and precision parries kept Dooku’s blade slashing and stabbing harmlessly wide.

It went on and on for many moments, but eventually Dooku’s flurry began to slow, and the Count, recognizing the futility of this attempt to overwhelm, stepped back fast.

Not fast enough.

With a sudden burst of sheer power, Master Yoda flew forward, his blade working so mightily that its residual glow outshone even those of both of Anakin’s lightsabers when he was at the peak of his dance. Dooku held strong, though, his red blade parrying brilliantly, each block backed by the power of the Force, or else Yoda’s strikes would have driven right through.

Just as he was about to launch a counter, though, Yoda was gone, leaping high and turning a somersault to land right behind Dooku, in perfect balance, striking hard.

Dooku reversed his grip and stabbed out behind him, intercepting the blow. He let go of his weapon altogether, tossing it just a bit, and spun about, catching it before it had even disengaged from Yoda’s blade.

With a growl of rage, Dooku reached more deeply into
the Force, letting it flow through him as if his physical form was a mere conduit for its power. His tempo increased suddenly and dramatically, three steps forward, two back, perfectly balanced all the while. His fighting style was one based on balance, on the back-and-forth charges, thrusts and sudden retreats, and now he came at Yoda with a series of cunning stabs, angled left and right.

Never could he strike low, though, for never did Yoda seem to be on the ground, leaping and spinning, flying all about, parrying each blow and offering cunning counters that had Dooku skipping backward desperately.

Dooku stabbed up high, turning the angle of his lightsaber in anticipation that Yoda would dodge left. But Yoda, as if in complete anticipation of the movement, veered neither left nor right, but rather, dropped to the ground. The Count had already retracted the missed thrust, and began a second stab, this time down low, but Yoda had anticipated that, too, and went right back up behind the stabbing blade.

A sudden stab by Yoda had Dooku quick-stepping back even more off-balance, for the first time, and then Yoda flew away, up and back.

The furious Dooku pursued, thrusting hard for Yoda’s head. And in his rage when his stab missed yet again, he reverted to a slashing attack.

Yoda’s green blade caught the blow, holding the red lightsaber at bay, locking the two in a contest of strength, physical and of the Force.

“Fought well, you have, my old Padawan,” Yoda congratulated, and his lightsaber began to move out, just a bit, forcing Dooku back.

“The battle is far from over!” Dooku stubbornly argued. “This is just the beginning!” Reaching into the Force, he took hold of one of the huge cranes within the hangar and threw it down at Obi-Wan and Anakin.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan cried. He grabbed at the plummeting crane with the Force, and Anakin, startled awake, did so, as well. Even working together, they hadn’t the strength left to stop its crushing descent.

But Yoda did.

Yoda grabbed the crane and held it fast, but in doing so, he had to release Dooku. The Count wasted no time, sprinting away, leaping up the ramp to his sail ship. As Yoda began to move the fallen crane harmlessly aside, the sail ship’s engine roared to life, and all three Jedi watched helplessly as Count Dooku blasted away.

As Anakin and Obi-Wan walked over to the exhausted Yoda, Padmé rushed in, running to Anakin and wrapping the sorely wounded young man in a tight, desperate hug.

“A dark day, it is,” Yoda said quietly.

I
n the gutters of lower Coruscant, a graceful sail ship glided down, its wings folding delicately as it went to its more conventional drives, settling easily inside the broken pavement of a seemingly abandoned building.

Count Dooku climbed out of his ship, walking to the shadows at the side of the secret landing ramp, where a hooded figure waited. He moved before the shadowy figure and bowed reverently.

“The Force is with us, Master Sidious.”

“Welcome home, Lord Tyranus,” the Sith Lord replied. “You have done well.”

“I bring you good news, my lord. The war has begun.”

“Excellent,” Sidious said, his gravelly voice hinting at a hiss. From underneath the dark shadows of his huge cowl, the Dark Lord’s smile widened. “Everything is going as planned.”

Across the city, in the somber Jedi Temple, so many lamented the loss of friends and colleagues. Obi-Wan and Mace Windu stood staring out the window of Master
Yoda’s apartment while the diminutive Master sat in a chair across the way, contemplating the troubling events.

“Do you believe what Count Dooku said about Sidious controlling the Senate?” Obi-Wan asked, breaking the contemplative silence. “It doesn’t feel right.”

Mace started to respond, but Yoda interjected, “Become unreliable, Dooku has. Joined the dark side. Lies, deceit, creating mistrust are his ways now.”

“Nevertheless, I feel we should keep a closer eye on the Senate,” Mace put in, and Yoda agreed.

After some more quiet contemplation, Mace turned a curious gaze upon Obi-Wan. “Where is your apprentice?”

“On his way to Naboo,” Obi-Wan answered. “Escorting Senator Amidala home.”

Mace nodded, and Obi-Wan caught a glimmer of concern in his dark eyes—concern that Obi-Wan shared about Anakin and Padmé. They let it go at that time, though, for there seemed greater problems at hand. Again, it was Obi-Wan who broke the silence.

“I have to admit, without the clones, it would not have been a victory.”

“Victory?” Yoda echoed with great skepticism. “Victory, you say?”

Obi-Wan and Mace Windu turned as one to the great Jedi Master, catching clearly the profound sadness in his tone.

“Master Obi-Wan, not victory,” Yoda went on. “The shroud of the dark side has fallen. Begun, this Clone War has!”

His words hung in the air about them, thick with emotion and concern, as dire a prediction as anyone in the Jedi Council had ever heard uttered.

Senator Bail Organa and Mas Amedda flanked Supreme Chancellor Palpatine as he stood on the balcony,
overlooking the deployment of the Republic army. Below them, tens of thousands of clone troopers marched about in tight formations, an orderly procession that brought them in files ascending the landing ramps of the huge military assault ships.

A deep sadness marked the handsome features of Bail Organa, but when he looked over at the Supreme Chancellor, he saw there a grim determination.

On distant Naboo, in a rose-covered arbor overlooking the sparkling lake, Anakin and Padmé stood hand in hand, Anakin in his formal Jedi robes and Padmé in a beautiful white gown with flowered trim. Anakin’s new mechanical arm hung at his side, the fingers clenching and opening in reflexive movements.

Before them stood a Naboo holy man, his hands raised above their heads as he recited the ancient texts of marriage.

And when the proclamation was made, R2-D2 and C-3PO, bearing witness to the union, whistled and clapped.

And Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala shared their first kiss as husband and wife.