Star Wars: Episode II: Attack of the Clones

by R. A. Salvatore

  The creature hardly slowed and the Jedi had to throw himself to the ground to dodge a swiping, snapping claw.

  He rolled out to the side, to avoid a stomping leg, and managed to slash out again, cutting a deep gash.

  The acklay howled and came on, and more blaster bolts came at the Jedi. His lightsaber worked furiously, brilliantly, turning one bolt after another right into the charging beast, finally slowing it and stunning it.

  Obi-Wan rushed in and leapt and stabbed, right in the face. He caught his foot on the creature's shoulder and ran right past it. He heard it fall behind him, thrashing in its death throes, but he knew that battle was done and went back to work on the battle droids.

  That larger fight seemed far from won, and far from winnable. Mace Windu had finished with Jango Fett by then, and to the other side, Anakin and Padmé continued their perfect teamwork behind the overturned execution cart. Anakin turned all shots aimed at either of them, and Padmé picked off droid after droid. But even with that, even with all of the remaining Jedi fighting brilliantly in the arena, the droids continued to press in, herding them all together in a hopeless position.

  “Artoo, what are you doing here?” C-3PO asked when his little friend rolled past his trapped body.

  In response, R2-D2 fired a suction cup grapnel from a compartment, attaching it firmly to C-3PO's head.

  “Wait!” C-3PO cried as R2-D2 began to tug. “No! How dare you? You're pulling too hard! Stop dragging me, you lead-head!” He felt the sparking as his head tore free of the Battle Droid body, and then R2-D2 pulled C-3PO's head over to its rightful body. R2-D2 extracted his welding arm and began reattaching the protocol droid's head.

  “Artoo, be careful! You might burn my circuits. Are you sure my head's on straight?”

  More Jedi went down under the sheer weight of the laser barrage. Less than half of them were still standing.

  “Limited choices,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said to the exhausted and bloody Mace Windu.

  Soon they were down to just over twenty, all herded together, and in the stadium all about them stood rank after rank of battle droid, weapons leveled.

  And then all movement stopped suddenly.

  “Master Windu!” Count Dooku cried from the dignitary box. His expression showed that he had truly enjoyed the spectacle of the battle. “You have fought gallantly. Worthy of recognition in the Archives of the Jedi. Now it is finished.” He paused and looked all about, leading the gazes of the trapped Jedi to the rows and rows of enemies still poised to destroy them.

  “Surrender,” Dooku ordered, “and your lives will be spared.”

  “We will not become hostages for you to use as barter, Dooku,” Mace said without the slightest hesitation.

  “Then I'm sorry, old friend,” Count Dooku said, in a tone that didn't sound at all sorry. “You will have to be destroyed.” He raised his hand and looked to his assembled army, prepared to give the signal.

  But then Padmé, exhausted, dirty, and bloody, raised her head to the sky above and shouted, “Look!” All eyes turned up to see half a dozen gunships fast descending upon the arena, screaming down in a dusty cloud about the Jedi, clone troopers rushing out their open sides as they touched down.

  A hailstorm of laserfire blasted the new arrivals, but the gunships had their shields up, covering the deb arkation of their warriors.

  Amid the sudden confusion and flashing laserfire, Master Yoda appeared in the dropdoor of one of the gunships, offering a salute to Mace and the others.

  “Jedi, move!” Mace cried, and the survivors rushed to the nearest gunships, scrambling aboard. Mace climbed in right beside Yoda, and their ship lifted away immediately, cannons blaring, shattering and scattering battle droids as it soared up out of the arena.

  Mace could hardly believe the incredible sight unfolding before him, as thousands of Republic ships rushed down on the assembled fleet of the Trade Federation, dropping tens of thousands of clone troopers to the surface of the planet. Behind him, Yoda continued to orchestrate the battle. “More battalions to the left,” he instructed his signaler, who relayed it out to the field commanders. “Encircle them, we must, then divide.”

  After many minutes of a glow so bright that it hurt C-3PO's eyes, R2-D2 retracted his welding arm and tootled that the job was finished—C-3PO's head was back where it belonged.

  “Oh, Artoo, you've put me back together!” C-3PO cried, and with some effort, he managed to stand upright. He realized then, from the hailstorm of fire outside the arena tunnel, and with many of those bolts ricocheting inside, that he was far from safe, and so he turned and began to amble away. Unfortunately for him, though, R2-D2 had not yet disengaged the sucker projectile from his forehead. The cord went taut, and C-3PO tumbled backward to the ground.

  R2-D2 gave an apologetic whistle as he rolled by, disengaging and retracting the sucker as he went.

  “I won't forget this!” C-3PO cried indignantly, and he scrambled up again and shuffled off after his infuriating friend.

  With the gunships flying off and the battle droids in pursuit, Boba Fett finally found the opportunity to slip down onto the arena floor. He called for his father repeatedly, rushing from pile of carnage to pile of carnage. He passed the dead acklay, and then the reek, calling for Jango, but knowing what had happened, simply because his father, who was always there, wasn't there.

  And then he saw the helmet.

  “Dad,” the boy breathed. His legs giving out beneath him, he fell to his knees beside Jango Fett's empty helmet.

  = XXIV =

  Archduke Poggle the Lesser led Dooku and the others into the Geonosian command center, a huge room with a large circular viewscreen in its center and many other monitors about the walls, where Geonosian soldiers could monitor and direct the widening battle.

  Poggle rushed to the side to confer with an army commander, then came back to Dooku and Nute Gunray, his expression fierce. “All of our communications have been jammed!” he informed them. “We are under attack, on land and from above!”

  “The Jedi have amassed a huge army!” Nute Gunray cried.

  “Where did they get them?” Dooku asked, sounding perplexed. “That doesn't seem possible. How did the Jedi come up with an army so quickly?”

  “We must send all available droids into battle,” Nute Gunray demanded.

  But Dooku, staring at the myriad of scenes, at the many battles and explosions all about the region, was shaking his head before he Neimoidian could begin to argue his reasoning. “There are too many,” the Count said, his voice full of resignation. “They will soon have us surrounded.”

  Even as he spoke, the three winced as the central screen flashed, showing the explosive destruction of a major Geonosian defensive position.

  “This is not going well at all,” Nute Gunray admitted.

  “Order a retreat,” said Poggle, and he was trembling so forcefully that it seemed as if he might just fall over. “I am sending all my warriors deep into the catacombs to hide!” He nodded to several of his commanders as he finished, and they turned back to their comlinks, relaying the orders.

  “We must get the cores of our ships back into space!” one of Nute Gunray's associates cried, and Gunray was nodding as he considered the words and the devastating scenes of battle flashing across the viewscreens.

  “I'm going to Coruscant,” Dooku announced. “My Master will not let the Republic get away with this treachery.”

  Poggle the Lesser rushed across the room to a console and punched in some codes, bringing up a holographic schematic of a planet-sized weapon. With a few keystrokes, he downloaded the schematic onto a cartridge and pulled it from the drive, turning to Dooku. “The Jedi must not find our designs,” the Archduke insisted. “If they have any idea of what we are planning to create, we are doomed.”

  Dooku took the cartridge. “I will take the designs with me,” he agreed. “The plans will be much safer with my Master.”

  With a curt bow, the Count swept from the room.
<
br />   Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Padmé crouched in the open side of a gunship as it sped across the expanding battlefield outside the arena, its laser cannons blaring, its shields turning back the responding fire from the droids.

  Below them, clone troopers rushed across the battlefield on speeder bikes, weaving their way and firing all the while.

  “They're good,” Obi-Wan remarked, and Anakin nodded.

  Their attention went right back to their own situation, then, as the gunship approached a huge Techno Union starship and opened fire. Its laser cannons slammed away at the giant, but seemed to be having little effect.

  “Aim right above the fuel cells!” Anakin cried to the gunner. With a slight adjustment, the gunner let fly his next burst.

  Huge explosions rocked the starship and it began to tilt ominously to the side. The gunship, and others rushing in nearby, swerved aside as the great craft toppled.

  “Good call!” Obi-Wan congratulated his Padawan, then he shouted to the crew, “Those Trade Federation starships are taking off! Target them quickly!”

  “They're too big, Master,” Anakin replied. “The ground-troopers will have to take them out.

  The gunship roared across the widening battlefield, lasers blasting away, explosions erupting all about it, a scene of spectacular destruction and frenzy. Mace Windu shook his head and looked to Yoda.

  “Capture Dooku, we must,” Yoda said, his calm and steady voice as strong an anchor as Mace could have asked for in that momentous moment. “If escape he does, he will rally more systems to his cause.”

  Mace looked to the diminutive Master and nodded grimly. “Captain, land at that assembly point ahead,” he ordered the clone driving his gunship, and the obedient pilot fast settled the craft. Mace, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and a host of clone troopers jumped out, but Yoda did not follow.

  “To the forward command center, take me,” he instructed, and the gunship lifted away.

  As soon as they put down at the relative safety of the position that had been secured as the command center, the clone commander rushed to the open gunship dropdoor. “Master Yoda, all forward positions are advancing.”

  “Very good, very good,” Yoda said. “Concentrate all your fire on the nearest starship.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  The clone commander ran off, organizing his leaders as he went. Soon after, the forward groups began picking their targets in a more coordinated manner, and the concentrated fire succeeded where sporadic bursts could not, taking down one starship after another.

  The gunship slowed and banked suddenly, circling a droid gun emplacement, coming too fast around the back for the stationary system to swivel. A furious barrage destroyed the defensive position completely, but it did manage a single shot the gunship's way, rocking the craft hard.

  “Hold on!” Obi-Wan cried, grabbing the edge of the open dropdoor.

  “Can't think of a better choice!” Padmé yelled back at him.

  Obi-Wan turned a smirk her way, or started to, but then he saw a Geonosian speeder soaring away, an unmistakable figure in the open cockpit. Two fighters flanked the speeder, the trio heading fast away from the main fighting. “Look! Over there!”

  “It's Dooku!” Anakin cried. “Shoot him down!”

  “We're out of ordnance, sir,” the clone captain replied.

  “Follow him!” Anakin ordered.

  The pilot put the ship up on its side, banking fast to turn into a straight run for the fleeing Count.

  “We're going to need some help,” Padmé remarked.

  “No, there's no time,” said Obi-Wan. “Anakin and I can handle this.”

  As the gunship began to close, the fighters flanking Dooku banked away suddenly, veering off left and right, turning to engage. The clone pilot of the gunship was up to the task, weaving his way through their fire, but then another blast rocked the ship, and with the vehicle up on edge, Obi-Wan and Anakin had to hold on tight and scramble to stay in.

  Padmé wasn't so fortunate.

  One moment, she was beside Anakin, and then she was gone, tumbling out the open dropdoor.

  “Padmé!” Anakin screamed. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, and he couldn't catch her, couldn't reach out fast enough.

  She tumbled down and hit the ground hard, and lay very still.

  “Padmé!” Anakin cried again, and then he yelled to the clone pilot, “Put the ship down!”

  Obi-Wan stood before him, his hands on Anakin's shoulders, holding him steady and firm. “Don't let your personal feelings get in the way,” he reminded his Padawan. He turned to the pilot. “Follow that speeder.”

  Anakin pushed to the side, peering over his Master's shoulder, and growled, “Lower the ship!”

  Obi-Wan turned to face him again, and this time, his look was not so sympathetic. “Anakin,” he said flatly, showing that there was no room for debate. “I can't take Dooku alone. If we catch him, we can end this war right now. We have a job to do.”

  “I don't care!” Anakin yelled at him. He pushed out to the side again and yelled at the pilot, “Put the ship down!”

  “You'll be expelled from the Jedi Order,” Obi-Wan said, his grim look showing no room for any argument.

  The blunt statement hit Anakin hard. “I can't lea ve her,” he said, his voice suddenly little more than a whisper.

  “Come to your senses,” said the uncompromising Obi-Wan. “What do you think Padmé would do if she were in your position?”

  Anakin's shoulders slumped. “She would do her duty,” he admitted. He turned and looked back toward where Padmé had fallen, but they were now too far off, and there was too much dust.

  Gunships screamed left and right, trading fire with laser cannon emplacements. On the ground, thousands of clone troopers battled the droids, and it was already becoming apparent that these new soldiers were indeed superior. One against one, a battle droid was nearly a match for a clone trooper, and a super battle droid even more than a match. But in groups and formations, the improvisation of the clone troopers, reacting to the fast-changing battleground and following the relayed orders of their Jedi commander, was quickly giving them all of the best vantage points, all the high ground and the most defensible positions.

  The battle soon extended far overhead, as well, as Republic warships engaged those Trade Federation ships that had managed to get offplanet, and those that had not yet landed. Most of those Trade Federation ships inside the asteroid belt and immediately within the perimeter of the battle were troop carriers rather than battleships, and so the Republic was fast gaining the upper hand there, as well.

  Over at the command center, an exhausted and dirty Mace Windu joined Master Yoda, the two sharing looks that combined hope for the present and fear for the future.

  “You decided to bring them,” Mace stated.

  “Troubling, it is,” Yoda replied, his large eyes slowly blinking. “Two paths were there open, and this one alone offered the return of so many Jedi.”

  Mace Windu nodded his approval of that choice, but Yoda only looked at the turmoil and destruction raging about him and blinked his large eyes once more.

  Obi-Wan pushed past Anakin, moving toward the pilot. “Follow that speeder!”

  The gunship did just that, zooming low. They found the speeder soon enough, parked outside a large tower. The gunship skimmed to a stop, moving a bit lower, and Anakin and Obi-Wan leapt out, rushing to the tower door. Hardly pausing, Anakin burst through, lightsaber in hand, entering a huge hangar, with cranes and control panels, tug-ships and workbenches.

  They found Count Dooku inside, standing at a control panel, working some instruments. A small interstellar sail ship sat nearby, a graceful, shining craft with a circular pod set on two lander legs, the retracted sails sweeping out to narrowing points behind it, like folded wings.

  “You're going to pay for all the Jedi you killed today, Dooku!”

  Anakin yelled at him, moving in determinedly. Again he felt the tug of a determined Obi-Wan, hold
ing him back.

  “We move in together,” Obi-Wan explained. “You slowly on the—”

  “No! I'm taking him now!” And Anakin pulled away and charged ahead.

  “Anakin, no!”

  Like a charging reek, the young Jedi came on, his green lightsaber ready to cut Dooku in half. The Count looked at him out of the corner of his eye, smiling as if truly amused.

  Anakin didn't catch the cue. His rage moved him along, as it had with the Tusken Raiders.

  But this was no simple warrior enemy. Dooku's hand shot out toward the charging Jedi, sending forth a Force push as solid as any stone wall, and a burst of blue Force lightning, unknown to Jedi, charged all about the trapped and lifted Jedi Padawan.

  Anakin managed to hold onto his lightsaber as he went up into the air, held there by the power of the Count. With a wave of his hand, Dooku sent Anakin flying across the room, to crash into a distant wall, where he slumped down, dazed.

  “As you can see, my Jedi powers are far beyond yours,” Dooku said with complete confidence and calm.

  “I don't think so,” Obi-Wan countered, moving toward him in a more measured and defensive manner, his borrowed blue lightsaber held across his body diagonally, up over one shoulder.

  Dooku smiled and ignited a red-glowing blade.

  Obi-Wan stepped slowly at first, then came on in a sudden rush, his blue blade coming in hard, right to left.

  But with only a slight movement, the red blade stabbed under the blue, then lifted up, and Obi-Wan's blade went flying harmlessly high of the mark. With a slight reversal of his wrist, Dooku stabbed straight ahead, and Obi-Wan had to throw himself backward. He brought his lightsaber across as he did, trying to parry, but Dooku had already retracted his blade by then and had settled back into perfect defensive posture.

  Against that posture, Obi-Wan's sudden flurry of attacks seemed exaggerated and inefficient, for Dooku defeated each, one after another, with a slight parry or dodge, seeming barely to move. For while Obi-Wan and most of the Jedi were sword fighters, Count Dooku was a fencer, following an older fighting style, one more effective against weapons like lightsabers than against projectile weapons like blasters. The Jedi on the whole had abandoned that old fighting style, considering it almost irrelevant against the enemies of the present galaxy, but Dooku had always held stubbornly to it, considering it among the highest of fighting disciplines.