Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith

by Patricia C. Wrede

  R2-D2 rolled forward. “Tap into the ship’s computers,” Anakin told the droid. R2-D2 beeped and rolled to a wall socket. Soon they had the Chancellor’s location—in the sumptuous quarters at the top of the ship’s spire.

  Anakin frowned. “I sense Count Dooku.”

  That’s no surprise, Obi-Wan thought. The renegade Jedi had beaten them both on Geonosis. Thanks to him, Anakin’s right hand was now a mechanical skeleton instead of flesh and blood. Only the timely arrival of Master Yoda had saved their lives. Who else but Count Dooku would the Separatists send on such a crucial mission? And this time, Master Yoda was busy elsewhere. “I sense a trap.”

  “Next move?” Anakin asked, looking at Obi-Wan.

  Obi-Wan smiled. “Spring the trap.”

  Anakin grinned and nodded. They left R2-D2 in the hangar and made their way through the ship. Several times, battle droids found them, but they were no match for the Jedi. Soon, they reached the elevator to the general’s quarters. When the doors opened, Obi-Wan looked around carefully, but saw no sign of droids. Still, it felt wrong. And there was that other presence—“He’s close,” Obi-Wan told Anakin.

  “The Chancellor?”

  “Count Dooku.”

  Cautiously, the two Jedi descended the steps from the elevator into the general’s quarters. The main room was enormous, but empty, except for a chair at the far end. Strapped in the chair was Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.

  He doesn’t look hurt, Obi-Wan thought as they walked forward. But he’s not happy. Well, who would be, under these circumstances?

  “Are you all right?” Anakin demanded as they reached the Chancellor.

  “Anakin,” the Chancellor said quietly, “droids.” He made a small gesture with his fingers, all he could manage with the energy bonds restraining him.

  As one, Obi-Wan and Anakin turned. Four super battle droids had come in behind them. Anakin smiled. “Don’t worry, Chancellor. Droids are not a problem.”

  Don’t get cocky, my young Padawan, Obi-Wan almost said, but he couldn’t scold Anakin in front of the Chancellor. Especially since it would probably make Anakin even more reckless once the fight started. And there was still—

  Before he could even finish the thought, Obi-Wan felt his eyes drawn upward. Tall, elegant, and graceful, Count Dooku strode onto the balcony. His face wore the same faintly amused smile Obi-Wan remembered so vividly from their last encounter.

  “This time, we do it together,” Obi-Wan said quietly to Anakin. He hoped his former apprentice wasn’t going to be difficult. They couldn’t afford to lose.

  To his surprise, Anakin gave a small nod. “I was about to say that.”

  Maybe he’s learned more than I thought. Obi-Wan shifted his balance, waiting for the next move.

  “Get help!” Palpatine said urgently from behind them. “You’re no match for him. He’s a Sith Lord.”

  And where do you think we can get help from, Chancellor? Obi-Wan gave Palpatine a reassuring smile. “Our specialty is Sith Lords, Chancellor.”

  As Obi-Wan and Anakin ignited their lightsabers, Count Dooku jumped down from the balcony. He landed lightly, and Obi-Wan felt the dark side of the Force surging around him. “Your swords, please, Master Jedi. Let’s not make a mess of this in front of the Chancellor.”

  Obi-Wan and Anakin ignored him. Lightsabers ready, they closed in. As Dooku reached for his own lightsaber, they charged. Dooku met them with a mocking smile. “Don’t assume that because there are two of you, you have the advantage,” he said.

  Count Dooku deserved his reputation as a master of the old style of lightsaber fencing. Even with both Anakin and Obi-Wan pressing him, he seemed at ease. The Jedi used every trick they knew, leaping and striking from unexpected directions. Dooku blocked them all. At least he’s not having any more luck hitting us than we are hitting him, Obi-Wan thought. That’s a big improvement over last time.

  Anakin seemed to be thinking along the same lines. In a lull between fierce exchanges, he gave Dooku a frightening smile and said, “My powers have doubled since we last met, Count.”

  No, Anakin, Obi-Wan thought. Don’t taunt him. Anger fed the dark side; they didn’t need Dooku’s power to be any greater than it already was.

  “Good,” the Count said calmly. “Twice the pride, double the fall. I have looked forward to this, Skywalker.”

  Despite the Count’s confidence, the two Jedi forced him slowly backward. When the super droids got in the way, they cut them down. At last they reached the first set of stairs to the balcony. As the Count started up, Obi-Wan disengaged and ran to the second set of stairs to attack him from behind. Climbing the stairs, it cut down two of the super battle droids.

  He can’t fight in two directions at once, Obi-Wan thought as he came up behind the Count. If we can—

  Count Dooku half-turned and raised a hand. A rush of dark power lifted Obi-Wan off his feet and choked the air from his lungs. He reached for the Force to counter Dooku, but the attack had been too sudden. He saw Dooku twist, kicking out at Anakin with all his weight behind it. Anakin fell backward, and Dooku hurled Obi-Wan over the edge of the balcony.

  Obi-Wan dropped to the floor below and lay half-stunned. Distantly, he felt a surge in the dark side, and then a large chunk of the balcony hurtled down at him. His last thought before he lost consciousness was, It’s up to Anakin now.

  As the balcony collapsed atop Obi-Wan, Anakin rushed at the Count and kicked him over the edge, then followed him down. He wanted to rush to the pile of rubble burying Obi-Wan, but he knew he couldn’t. It’s up to me now. I can’t give Dooku even the smallest opening. He tried to concentrate on Dooku, but his fear for Obi-Wan was hard to ignore.

  Dooku smiled, and echoed Anakin’s thoughts. “I sense great fear in you, Skywalker.” He shook his head, as if Anakin were a particularly slow student. “You have power, you have anger—but you don’t use them.”

  And I’m not going to, Anakin told himself. That’s the way to the dark side. Pushing his fear aside, he tried to forget the balcony crushing Obi-Wan and the intent expression on the Chancellor’s face as he watched the battle that would decide his fate. Anakin made himself focus on the fight, and only the fight.

  All of the super battle droids had been cut down; only Anakin and Dooku were left. Down the long length of the room they fought, neither one able to gain an advantage. He’s old, Anakin thought. Maybe I can just outlast him. But the power of the dark side flowed around him, denying that possibility. The dark side would keep Dooku going as long as he needed. What am I going to do? I have to beat him, or the Chancellor and Obi-Wan are dead. Not to mention me.…

  Behind him, he heard Chancellor Palpatine calling something, trying to be heard over the crackle and hum of the lightsabers. “Use your aggressive feelings, Anakin! Call on your rage. Focus it, or you don’t stand a chance against him.”

  Anakin hesitated. The Chancellor was no Jedi; he couldn’t know about the dangers of the dark side. He only cared about getting out of there alive. And there’s only me to do it. Surely he could risk the dark side just this once, in order to save the Chancellor and Obi-Wan. He looked at Dooku and let himself feel the emotions that he had been keeping so tightly controlled.

  Rage poured through him. This was the man who had belittled him, who had kidnapped Palpatine and nearly killed Obi-Wan, who had cut off Anakin’s hand and tried to have Padmé put to death. Anakin used his anger the way he normally used the Force, letting it guide his lightsaber. Faster and faster he moved, and then his lightsaber came down and severed Count Dooku’s hands.

  Leaning forward, Anakin caught the Count’s lightsaber as it fell. The anger still sang in his veins. He set the two lightsabers against the Count’s neck and stood panting with the effort of trying to control himself.

  “Good, Anakin, good,” Palpatine said. He was smiling in relief. “I knew you could do it.” Anakin felt himself begin to relax at the sound of that gentle, familiar voice.
Then Palpatine said, “Kill him. Kill him now!”

  Anakin stared at the Chancellor in shock. Dooku seemed just as stunned.

  “Finish him, Anakin,” Palpatine repeated.

  Anakin swallowed hard, fighting the anger that still burned inside him. “I shouldn’t—“

  “Do it!” the Chancellor snapped.

  Dooku tried to speak, but Anakin’s hands were already moving. The lightsabers cut through the Count’s neck effortlessly. Anakin stared down at the headless body, shaken. I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t…He deactivated the lightsabers, wondering what Dooku had wanted to say.

  “You did well, Anakin,” Palpatine said. “He was too dangerous to be kept alive.”

  “He was a defenseless prisoner,” Anakin said bitterly. He looked at Palpatine reproachfully, and realized that the Chancellor was still strapped in the general’s chair. He reached for the Force and disengaged the energy restraints. Of course the Chancellor doesn’t understand, he told himself. Palpatine wasn’t a Jedi. Furthermore, he had been trapped, and it must have seemed to him that the only way he would get free was if Anakin killed Dooku. Still, Anakin tried to explain. “I shouldn’t have done that, Chancellor. It’s not the Jedi way.”

  Palpatine stood up, rubbing his wrists. “It’s only natural. He cut off your arm, and you wanted revenge. It’s not the first time, Anakin.”

  Anakin shook his head. He knew what Palpatine meant. When the Sand People killed his mother, he had massacred them all—men, women, and children. He still dreamed, sometimes, about the children. Palpatine and Padmé were the only ones who knew about the revenge he had taken. Padmé had been horrified as much by Anakin’s grief as by what he had done; Palpatine called the killings “regrettable.” Neither truly understood how a Jedi would feel about it. And he couldn’t tell another Jedi, not even Obi-Wan. Especially not Obi-Wan.

  The Chancellor nodded, as if he understood what Anakin was thinking, but all he said was, “Now we must leave.”

  As if to underline the Chancellor’s words, the floor began to tilt as the gravity generators shifted. Anakin ran to the fallen balcony that buried Obi-Wan. Using the Force, he lifted the tangled mass away, then knelt to check on his friend. No bones broken, breathing’s all right. Anakin heaved a sigh of relief.

  “There is no time!” Palpatine called urgently as he mounted the steps to the elevator. “Leave him, or we’ll never make it.”

  “His fate will be the same as ours,” Anakin said quietly. Never again would he lose someone he loved, the way he had lost his mother. Bending over, he slung Obi-Wan’s unconscious body across his shoulders. He staggered under the weight, then caught his balance and headed determinedly toward the elevators.

  Slowly, Obi-Wan came back to consciousness. He felt as if he had been pounded all over—in fact, his head was still pounding. And something was digging into his stomach. Carefully, he opened his eyes. He saw a distorted Chancellor Palpatine, reaching down toward him past some sort of screen; beyond was only blackness.

  Obi-Wan blinked. The Chancellor wasn’t reaching down toward him; he was below Obi-Wan, hanging onto something. The blackness was some sort of darkened shaft. “Have I missed something?”

  “Hang on,” Anakin’s muffled voice came from behind him. “We’re in a bit of a situation.”

  Ah. The thing digging into his stomach was Anakin’s shoulder, then, and the Chancellor was hanging on to Anakin’s ankle. Obi-Wan nodded pleasantly at Palpatine. “Hello, Chancellor. Are you well?”

  Palpatine glanced down at the emptiness beneath them. “I hope so.”

  Obi-Wan’s head began to clear. “Where’s Count Dooku?”

  “Dead,” Anakin said shortly, in the tone that meant he did not want to discuss it.

  “Pity,” Obi-Wan said. “Alive, he could have been a help to us.”

  “The ship’s breaking up,” Anakin snapped. “Could we discuss this later?”

  Touchy, touchy. But Anakin had saved his life again, and he had gotten the Chancellor out unaided. He was allowed to be a little touchy. Obi-Wan stared down at the seemingly bottomless pit.

  Gravity shifted, and suddenly they were hanging over a steep slope instead of a bottomless pit. Obi-Wan heard a chunk-thump from overhead, and looked up to see something coming toward them. The ceiling? “What’s that?”

  “Artoo,” Anakin said. “I asked him to activate the elevator.”

  “Oh.” So they were in an elevator shaft. Had Anakin gotten tired of waiting? I don’t think I want to know exactly how we got into this, Obi-Wan decided. I’ll be happy if we can just get out of it.

  Anakin was shouting into the comlink, telling R2-D2 to shut down the elevator. “Too late!” Obi-Wan said. “Jump!”

  They jumped. Several floors below, they hit the side of the shaft, sliding along its length ahead of the rapidly moving elevator. Gravity continued to shift until the shaft was horizontal. Their speed slowed as the “slope” they were sliding down leveled off. Unfortunately, the elevator didn’t pause.

  “Stop the elevator, Artoo!” Anakin yelled at the comlink as they scrambled to their feet.

  The elevator stopped. Then, with a horrible grinding noise, it started up again. The three men ran down the shaft, barely staying ahead of it. The control wires must be damaged, Obi-Wan thought.

  The elevator sped up. Anakin was yelling into the comlink again, but Obi-Wan couldn’t make out the words. Then Palpatine stumbled. Obi-Wan caught his arm and urged him forward. He can’t keep this up, Obi-Wan thought. Come on, Anakin, come up with something!

  Suddenly, all the doors in the elevator shaft flew open. Barely ahead of the rogue elevator, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Palpatine fell through into the hallway below.

  They leaned against the wall, fighting to catch their breath. Nothing like a brisk run to clear the cobwebs out of your thinking. Finally, Obi-Wan straightened. “Let’s see if we can find something in the hangar that’s still flyable. Come on.”

  Gravity seemed to be working normally in this part of the ship—the halls were all nice and horizontal, just the way they were supposed to be. As they ran along one, a curtain of blue light sprang up in front of them. Obi-Wan stopped short, holding out his arms to keep Palpatine from running into it. More ray shields appeared behind them and on either side, trapping them.

  “How did this happen?” Obi-Wan grumbled. “We’re smarter than this.”

  “Apparently not, Master,” Anakin said. “This is the oldest trap in the book.” Obi-Wan glared at him, and Anakin shrugged. “Well, you’re the leader. I was distracted.”

  “Oh, so all of a sudden it’s my fault?”

  “You’re the Master,” Anakin repeated. “I’m just a hero.”

  Obi-Wan snorted. “I’m open to suggestions here.”

  Behind the two Jedi, Chancellor Palpatine cleared his throat. “Why don’t we let them take us to General Grievous? Perhaps with Count Dooku’s demise, we can negotiate our release.”

  Obi-Wan looked at Anakin, and saw a look of utter disbelief that he knew was mirrored on his own face. General Grievous, negotiate? When it snows on Tatooine…

  “I say…patience,” Anakin said after a moment.

  “Patience?” Obi-Wan stared at his former apprentice. “That’s the plan?”

  “A couple of droids will be along in a few moments and release the ray shield,” Anakin explained. “And then we’ll wipe them out. Security patrols are always those skinny useless battle droids.”

  As if to prove Anakin’s words, a pair of battle droids appeared. “Hand over your weapons,” one of them said in a mechanical monotone.

  “See?” Anakin said smugly. “No problem.”

  Behind the battle droids, a large doorway opened, revealing a line of destroyer droids. Obi-Wan glanced around; there were more on the other side of the hallway. Super battle droids appeared behind the destroyers, completely surrounding the Jedi. Obi-Wan shook his head. He and Anakin might cut their w
ay past such overwhelming force, but they couldn’t do it and protect the Chancellor at the same time.

  At that moment, R2-D2 entered the corridor from an adjoining hallway, screeching to a halt.

  “Well,” Obi-Wan said to Anakin, “What’s plan B?”

  Anakin looked from the droids to Chancellor Palpatine and back. “I think Chancellor Palpatine’s suggestion sounds pretty good to me.”

  This is not a good day, Obi-Wan thought as he let the droids take his lightsaber.

  Beings all over the galaxy swore that the great General Grievous had no more emotion than the droids who served him. He had been born on Kalee, and even before he became a half-Kaleesh, half-droid cyborg, he had been ruthless. Now, they said, he felt nothing at all.

  But those beings were wrong, Grievous thought. There was one emotion common to man and machine, the emotion he felt watching Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker as they were marched onto his bridge in electrobonds. Satisfaction. If the smooth metal mask that served as his face had been capable of it, he would have smiled.

  The guards had brought along the Chancellor, of course, and a little blue astrodroid. Well, he had told them to bring all the intruders to the bridge when they were captured, and droids took their instructions literally. The astrodroid was unimportant. It could be reprogrammed easily, once the ship was safely back in Separatist territory.

  One of his bodyguards came forward with the Jedi lightsabers. Grievous took them in his metal claw, weighing them. Every Jedi made his or her own lightsaber to be a weapon and a work of art, suited to the builder alone. A close examination of the lightsaber could tell one much about the Jedi who had created it. But there would be time for that later.

  Grievous turned to his prisoners, rising to his full height. He deliberately had his leg mechanics lengthened the last time his metal limbs had been overhauled, so that when he straightened up, he towered over most beings. He enjoyed looking down on them. He liked the terror in their eyes when they wondered what terrible weapons hid behind his long cloak, and the fear when they looked up and up at his expressionless metal face.