Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith

by Patricia C. Wrede

  Palpatine could see Anakin considering it, but then Anakin shook his head. “I won’t be a pawn in your political game, Chancellor. The Jedi are my family.”

  There had to be a way to shake that confidence of his—ah, yes. “Only through me can you achieve a power greater than any Jedi. Learn to control the dark side of the Force, Anakin, and you will be able to save Padmé from certain death.”

  “W-what are you talking about?”

  “I know what has been troubling you,” Palpatine said gently. “Listen to me. Use my knowledge, I beg you!”

  “I won’t become a Sith!” But Anakin’s denial was too passionate, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as Palpatine. “I should kill you!”

  But you haven’t killed me, have you, my fine young Jedi? You were already wondering about the truth of those overly simple Jedi teachings, and now I’m not acting the way you think a Sith Lord should. A little more, and you’ll join me—perhaps not this minute, but soon. When you’ve had time to calm down and think.

  But I must move slowly, Palpatine reminded himself. A misstep could still spoil all his careful work. “Of course you should,” Palpatine agreed. “Except for the fact that we are both working for the same goal—a more perfect future for the Republic.”

  “You have deceived everyone!”

  “A painful necessity.” What had the boy expected him to do—begin by announcing to the entire galaxy that he was one of the feared and hated Sith Lords, and then try to get elected Chancellor? “The Republic was rotting from within. The system had to be shaken to its core. Yet no one, not the Senate, not the courts, not even the Jedi Council, could do anything. I was the only one who dared to clean up the mess.” The old anger and conviction shook him as he spoke, and he felt Anakin’s reaction to the truth of his words.

  He paused. Time to let him think. Palpatine made a show of studying Anakin’s lightsaber. “Are you going to kill me?” he asked calmly, as though it were a minor matter of curiosity.

  “I would certainly like to,” Anakin growled.

  “I know you would.” Palpatine allowed himself a smile as he turned away. “I can feel your anger. It gives you focus, makes you stronger. The question is, will you kill me if it means plunging the galaxy into eternal chaos and strife?”

  Anakin lifted his lightsaber. Palpatine kept his expression relaxed and disinterested. If I’ve pushed him too far, too fast…But Anakin did not complete the movement. At last, he lowered the lightsaber and said, “I am going to turn you over to the Jedi Council.”

  “But you’re not sure of their intentions, are you?” Palpatine almost smiled again as Anakin’s eyes slid away from his. He would win this contest, after all. “I want you to meditate on my proposal,” he said coolly. “Know the power of the dark side. The power to save Padmé.”

  Anakin stared at him for a long moment, then finally turned off his lightsaber. As if nothing unusual had happened, Palpatine walked to his desk and sat down. Seeing the surprise in Anakin’s eyes, he said, “I am not going anywhere. You have time to decide my fate.” And to think about my offer.

  As Anakin turned and all but ran from the room, Palpatine added softly, “Perhaps you’ll reconsider, and help me rule the galaxy. For the good of all.” Anakin’s Jedi senses would hear that final whisper. His ambition would bring him back to Palpatine, if his fear for Padmé didn’t.

  And then, once more, there would be two Sith Lords, Master and apprentice.

  Ruling the galaxy, for a thousand years.

  General Grievous is an even more reckless driver than Anakin, Obi-Wan observed as his lizard raced through the tunnel city after the general’s wheel scooter. Blaster fire from clone troops and battle droids filled the air, and there were explosions everywhere—not to mention armored transports full of droids and clones. The scooter hurtled through them as if they weren’t there, narrowly avoiding crash after crash and crushing those in its way. Obi-Wan’s lizard was having a hard time keeping up.

  A stray laser blast whizzed past Obi-Wan’s ear, and he reached for his lightsaber. It wasn’t there. It must have been knocked loose right after I jumped on the lizard, Obi-Wan thought. I hope Anakin never hears about this. But now he had to guide the lizard so that they avoided the shots, instead of just deflecting them. They lost ground.

  As they moved farther into the city, the tunnels became more crowded. Obi-Wan lost more ground as he wove through the battling droids and vehicles. The crowd was slowing Grievous down, too; Obi-Wan saw Grievous’ scooter roll up onto the curving walls to get around a mob of battle droids running up the tunnel toward them.

  Obi-Wan smiled suddenly. His lizard could do things the general’s scooter couldn’t. He urged the lizard up onto the wall, and then to the ceiling. The lizard used its natural abilities to cling upside down, and Obi-Wan used the Force to cling to the lizard. Nobody else was using the ceiling as a highway, so they didn’t lose any more time dodging traffic. They gained on Grievous rapidly.

  Ahead, Obi-Wan could see the tunnel opening out into a small landing platform. He dug his heels into the lizard, which leaped forward. He was next to Grievous now, close enough to strike at him, if he’d only had his lightsaber. Unfortunately, Grievous hadn’t dropped his electro-staff, and he was close enough to strike at Obi-Wan.

  As the staff swung at him, Obi-Wan grabbed it and yanked hard, throwing Grievous off balance. Calling on the Force, he leaped from his lizard to tackle the general. The tactic worked; Obi-Wan and Grievous fell to the floor of the landing platform together, and the electro-staff went flying.

  General Grievous did not spare a glance for the missing staff. He pulled out a blaster. Obi-Wan grabbed for it, and it, too, went flying out of reach. Obi-Wan rolled and grabbed the electro-staff. It wasn’t as good as a lightsaber, but it would do.

  His first blow caught General Grievous squarely in his midsection. Obi-Wan swung again and connected with one of the general’s arms. The metal arm bent, but did not break. An instant later, too fast for even Jedi reflexes to avoid, Grievous’ other arm struck Obi-Wan.

  It was like being hit with a metal construction bar. Obi-Wan’s shoulder and half his side went numb, then flared into pain. The electro-staff went flying once more, and he barely dodged the next blow. That was brutal! I’d better not let him catch me with any more of those.

  Using the Force, Obi-Wan leaped, putting all his weight and momentum behind his kick. Grievous hardly seemed to notice it. His metal limbs and the durasteel shell that encased his body were tougher than those of any droid Obi-Wan had ever faced.

  There must be some way to get at him! Obi-Wan dodged another swing, and saw a corner of Grievous’ stomach plate shift as the droid general moved. It must have been loosened when I hit him with the electro-staff. Maybe I can get some of that armor off of him…

  As the general swung again, Obi-Wan ducked and closed in. He grabbed the loose corner and pulled. The plate came free—and the general’s metal arms closed around Obi-Wan and lifted him high. Then he was flying through the air, to land heavily on the far side of the platform. Half-stunned, he slid across the surface and almost over the edge. At the last minute, he grabbed hold, stopping with his legs dangling above the long, long drop to the bottom of the sinkhole.

  Dimly, Obi-Wan saw General Grievous pick up the electro-staff and start toward him. He struggled back to full consciousness, thinking, I need a weapon!

  Then he saw the general’s abandoned blaster, lying a few yards away.

  Barely in time, he called the blaster to him, and fired. General Grievous stopped moving forward. Obi-Wan poured shot after shot into the general’s open stomach area. The half-droid made a sound that was part choking noise, part metallic screech, and then there was a small explosion inside his metal body.

  Holding the laser pistol ready, Obi-Wan watched as more explosions shook the cyborg general’s metal casing. Finally, flames burst from his eye slits, and General Grievous collapsed in a sm
oking heap. Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, to sense any flicker of remaining life.

  He found none. Heaving a sigh of relief, he started back toward the tunnel to recapture his lizard, and realized he was still holding the laser pistol. He looked at it with distaste. So uncivilized! Tossing it over the edge of the landing platform, Obi-Wan went to see how the battle was going. He didn’t really have any doubts. Clone Commander Cody was competent, and he had more than enough troops to handle the battle droids. General Grievous had been the real problem, and that was taken care of.

  All that’s left is to notify the Council—and the Chancellor. And then…then we’ll find out the Chancellor’s real intentions.

  When Anakin finally found Master Windu in the Jedi Temple hangar, his head was still spinning. Master Windu and three other Jedi were preparing to board a gunship, and at first, he was not at all pleased by Anakin’s interruption.

  “What is it, Skywalker?” Master Windu snapped. “We are in a hurry. We’ve just received word that Obi-Wan has destroyed General Grievous. We are on our way to make sure the Chancellor gives his emergency powers back to the Senate.”

  “He won’t give up his power,” Anakin said heavily. He felt Master Windu’s attention focus on him, and swallowed hard. “Chancellor Palpatine is a Sith Lord.”

  “A Sith Lord?” Master Windu sounded as horrified as Anakin had been. “How do you know this?”

  He told me himself. “He knows the ways of the Force. He has been trained to use the dark side.”

  Master Windu stared at him for a long moment. At last he nodded. “Then our worst fears have been realized. We must move fast if the Jedi are to remain in control.”

  As Master Windu signaled the other Jedi to board the gunship, Anakin said, “Master, the Chancellor is very powerful.” He hesitated. “You will need my help if you are going to arrest him.”

  Mace Windu’s eyes narrowed. “For your own good, you stay out of this conflict,” he commanded sternly. “I sense much confusion in you, young Skywalker. Your fear clouds your judgment.”

  “That’s not true, Master,” Anakin protested.

  “We’ll see,” Mace responded. “If what you say is true, you will have earned my trust. For now, you stay here. Wait for us in the Council Chamber until we return.”

  He still doesn’t trust me. He never has. But Mace Windu was a senior Council member, a Master. As long as Anakin was a Jedi, he had to follow Master Windu’s orders. “Yes, Master,” he said, trying to keep the resentment out of his voice.

  Mace nodded once, and entered the gunship. Anakin stayed where he was until the gunship took off, hoping until the last minute that Mace would change his mind. When the ship finally vanished into the endless stream of traffic, he turned and went back into the Jedi Temple.

  The Council Chamber was dim and empty. Anakin sat in one of the chairs and tried to meditate, but his mind and heart were in too much turmoil. Now that he was alone, his mission accomplished, the Chancellor’s words kept replaying in his mind. Learn to control the dark side of the Force, and you will be able to save Padmé from certain death. Anakin felt cold, remembering the screams that echoed through his dreams. Again, he heard Padmé’s dying cry: “Anakin! I love you.”

  The Chancellor’s voice spoke in his mind, words he had not said before: “You do know that if the Jedi destroy me, any chance of saving Padmé will be lost.”

  No! Anakin reached out blindly, not to the Chancellor, but to the one he loved. To Padmé. And then he sensed her presence, as if she were there, not just in the Jedi Council Chamber, but in his own mind and heart—a true joining through the Force.

  Padmé was alone in the central room of her apartment, when she felt Anakin’s presence in the room with her. What is he doing here at this hour? she thought, and looked up. She blinked and shook her head. The room was empty, but just for an instant she thought she had seen the Jedi Council Chamber.

  And then the connection took hold fully, and she knew. Anakin was there, alone in the Council Chamber—and he was here, too, with her. She felt his love, and his fear for her—the terrible fear that was eating at his heart. The fear that she would die. She hadn’t known how terrible his fear was.

  I am not afraid to die. She’d told him that once, when they were being led into the arena on Geonosis for execution, and it was still true. She was only afraid that he would not know how much she loved him. As the Force connection began to fade, she spoke again the words she had said then, when she first declared her love for him. Anakin wouldn’t hear them, of course, but perhaps he would feel the love behind them, the love that was stronger and deeper now than it had ever been.

  “I truly, deeply love you,” Padmé’s voice said in Anakin’s mind. “Before I die, I want you to know.”

  The last of the Force connection faded, but her words echoed: Before I die, before I die, before I die. Anakin shuddered. Padmé, no! But the link was gone, she was gone, and he was alone in the Council Chamber. As he would be alone, always and everywhere, once Padmé was dead.

  “No!” The word tore from his lips. He was on his feet, panting as if he had been running. I can’t do this! I can’t let her die! And then he was running, out of the Council Chamber toward the platform where his airspeeder was parked.

  The trip to the Senate Office building seemed to take forever. Anakin was vaguely aware of other traffic dodging and beeping at him, and of the gauges on his control panel all pushing into the red zone. Then he was running through the halls toward the hum of a lightsaber in the Chancellor’s office.

  He stopped in the doorway, shocked motionless. Wind whistled past him from the gaping hole that had been the huge window overlooking Coruscant. Shards of glass littered the floor and dusted across three crumpled figures in Jedi robes. Only one Jedi still stood—Mace Windu, his purple lightsaber menacing Chancellor Palpatine. “You’re under arrest, my lord,” he told the Chancellor, motioning to Anakin to stay back.

  But Palpatine was not looking at Mace Windu. “Anakin!” he cried. “I told you it would come to this. I was right. The Jedi are taking over.”

  But…but…That’s not right. They came here because I told them you were a Sith Lord, not in order to take over. But they’d already been on their way to arrest Palpatine when he arrived with the news, a different part of Anakin thought.

  “Your plot to regain control of the Republic is over,” Master Windu said. “You have lost.”

  “No!” Palpatine raised his hands. “You will die!” Blue Force lightning shot from his fingers toward Mace.

  Anakin took an involuntary step forward. “He is a traitor, Anakin!” Palpatine cried as more lightning poured from his hands.

  “He’s the traitor!” Mace said. He grimaced with the effort of repelling the lightning. “Stop him!”

  Anakin’s head swiveled from one man to the other. The Force lightning was hurting Master Windu now, hurting him badly. But the Chancellor was aging before Anakin’s eyes. His hair thinned and his skin shriveled. Deep furrows appeared in his forehead. His hands twisted and turned gray-white. “Help me!” he cried. “I can’t hold on any longer.”

  But Anakin stayed frozen. At last Palpatine collapsed, exhausted. “I give up,” he said in the whispery voice of an old, old man. “I am…I am too weak. Don’t kill me. I give up.”

  Mace Windu pointed his lightsaber at the cringing Chancellor. “You Sith disease,” he snarled. “I am going to end this right now.”

  “You can’t kill him, Master,” Anakin protested. “He must stand trial.”

  “He has too much control over the Senate and the Courts,” Mace replied. “He is too dangerous to be kept alive.”

  “It’s not the Jedi way.” But the Chancellor had said the same thing about Count Dooku. If Jedi Master and Sith Lord made the same argument, were they really so different? And I need him to save Padmé.

  But Master Windu wasn’t listening. He raised his lightsaber—and Anakin knocked it aside. T
he unexpected blow sent the lightsaber flying…and left Mace defenseless against a new bolt of Force lightning. Chancellor Palpatine was faking! He wasn’t tired at all.

  Mace howled and retreated. “Power!” the Chancellor cried, and laughed. “Absolute power!”

  Another wave of Force lightning struck Mace and slammed him backward, and back again, then it lifted him through the space where the window had been, high into the night sky—and then let him drop the hundreds of meters to the ground below. Anakin stared after him, horrified. “What have I done?” he whispered.

  “You are fulfilling your destiny,” Palpatine replied calmly. He looked different now, and sounded different. The aging was no illusion. But the difference made it easier for Anakin to be different himself. To say what he knew he had come to say.

  “I will do whatever you ask,” he told Palpatine. “Just help me save Padmé’s life.” I can’t live without her. I won’t let her die.

  Palpatine smiled and gestured. Anakin knelt before him, and the words came—the words he had used to pledge to the Jedi, but changed, as he had changed. “I pledge myself to your care,” he said. “To the ways of the Sith.”

  “Anakin Skywalker, you are one with the Order of the Sith Lords,” Palpatine replied. “Henceforth, you shall be known as…Darth Vader.”

  “Thank you, my Master.”

  Darth Sidious—Chancellor Palpatine—stood alone in his enormous office. He’d sent his new apprentice and a battalion of clone troops to the Jedi Temple. That would take care of the Jedi on Coruscant. He scowled slightly under his hood. He sensed that his apprentice was not yet as fully committed to the dark side as he should be. Well, destroying the Jedi here should certainly tie Anakin closer to his Sith identity—Darth Vader.

  Now it was time to deal with the rest of the Jedi. The frown vanished, replaced by a smile of anticipation. Reaching out, he keyed a frequency into his hologram projector, and waited.