A small hologram of the first of the clone commanders sprang up before him. “Yes, my lord?”
“The time has come,” Darth Sidious said, savoring the words. After a thousand years, the time for revenge has come at last. “Execute Order Sixty-six.”
“I understand, my lord,” the clone commander replied, and the image winked out.
Darth Sidious keyed in the next frequency, and another, identical hologram appeared. Again and again, he repeated the same words to clone commander after clone commander, on world after world. With every message, his faint smile grew.
The clone troops followed orders. That was, supposedly, why each battalion was led by a Jedi. What the Jedi had forgotten was that the clones served the Republic, not the Jedi Temple…and he, Darth Sidious, was the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. The clones would follow the Chancellor’s orders unquestioningly. Even if they were ordered to kill their Jedi leaders.
Order Sixty-six commanded the clones to do just that.
Still smiling, Darth Sidious leaned back, picturing the scenes all over the galaxy. Jedi on jungle planets, crystal worlds, water worlds, in the heat of battle and safe in their command centers, all dying at the hands of their own clone troops. He could sense it happening, though not in detail—but he could feel the dark side growing stronger with every Jedi death.
His only regret was that he couldn’t be there in person to watch each one of them die.
The trouble with droids is that they can’t think, Obi-Wan told himself as he hacked his way through the battle droids that still clogged the sinkhole tunnel city on Utapau. An army made up of living beings would have seen how badly outnumbered they were, and given up. The droids just kept on fighting.
At least he had his lightsaber back. One of the clones had found it and returned it. I’d hate to have to fight battle droids with nothing but a laser pistol, Obi-Wan thought. He guided his lizard up the wall of the sinkhole, to get a better angle. These droids—
Suddenly, Obi-Wan felt a peculiar tremor in the Force, and started to turn his lizard. The lizard shifted just enough that the sudden intense blast of laser fire didn’t destroy both it and Obi-Wan, but only knocked them off the wall of the sinkhole. As he made the long fall to the bottom of the sinkhole, Obi-Wan saw that the laser fire had come from his own troops. The clones were trying to kill him! I have a bad feeling about this, he thought, and hit the stagnant water below.
More laser blasts hit the surface of the water. Obi-Wan let the momentum of his fall carry him deep down, far below the level the blasts could reach. He fumbled at his belt pack for a moment before he found his breath mask and put it on. Now he could stay underwater until the clones gave up.
It took them a long time. No one could say clones weren’t persistent but at last they must have assumed the great fall had killed him.
Fortunately the clones didn’t know about General Grievous’ little escape ship. Obi-Wan had only told them that Grievous was dead; there hadn’t been time to go into details. If I can get to that ship, I can get away. It’s a Trade Federation model—even if the cruisers in orbit spot it, they’ll think I’m a Separatist running away from the battle. Of course, he’d still have to sneak past thousands of clone troops to get to the secret landing platform, but at least the clones wouldn’t be waiting for him when he got there.
And once he was away from Utapau, he could find out what was going on. The clones weren’t supposed to be able to betray the Republic. Something was very, very wrong.
The battle for Kashyyyk was over. Outside, the clones and Wookiees were picking up bits of smashed battle droids and repairing their own equipment. Yoda had left them to it. The clones did not need a commander to show them how to clean up debris, and the Wookiee meeting hall was quiet—a fine place to meditate. Chewbacca and Tarfful, the two Wookiee commanders, stayed to one side, and the clone officers kept near the entrance where they could keep an eye on the troops outside, and where any incoming messages would not disturb their commander.
Centuries of practice had made it easy for Yoda to slip his mind nearly free from his body, to rest in the living Force. Lately, he had taken the opportunity to do so whenever it arose. For as the dark side grew stronger over the years, so had his belief that someone was trying to reach him through the increasing gloom.
Eyes closed, Yoda gave himself up to the Force. Yes, there it was—the sense of someone reaching for him. Almost, he succeeded. Something brushed close to Yoda…no, someone, someone who felt familiar. And then, suddenly, shock waves ripped through the Force. Jedi are dying.
Yoda’s eyes popped open. Two clone officers were coming up behind him. To consult me, they pretend they are coming. But Yoda could sense the faint aura of the dark side clinging to them. Something was very wrong, indeed.
So he was not surprised when the two clones reached for their weapons. His lightsaber hummed in his hands, and an instant later two white-helmeted heads fell one way, and two bodies the other.
More, there will be. The clone officers would not have acted without orders, and a thousand more clones waited outside. Help, he must seek.
Fortunately, help was close at hand. The two Wookiees had seen the whole thing, and they recovered quickly from their surprise. Yoda explained what he needed, and the Wookiees nodded and exchanged comments in their barking language. Then Chewbacca picked Yoda up, and he and Tarfful retreated. They took Yoda out a back way, not a moment too soon. Seconds after they left it, a clone tank fired from a low hill nearby, and the meeting hall disappeared in a ball of fire.
It took the clones a little time to discover that Yoda had not been inside the hall when it blew up, but as soon as they did, they spread out in a search pattern, hunting for him. By then, the Wookiees had hidden him on one of the small boats. But he couldn’t stay in hiding here. Too dangerous, it was, both for him and for the Wookiees. Besides, he had to get off the planet to find out what was happening.
When he told them the problem, the Wookiees nodded and barked at each other so fast that it was difficult even for him to follow the conversation. Then they turned and offered him one of their escape pods. Yoda accepted at once. The only problem left was how to get past the clone troops to the pod.
Senator Bail Organa was in an uneasy frame of mind as he flew his sleek airspeeder through the dawn light. Rumors had been flying around the Senate since early the previous evening. At first, the rumors were good—the Separatists had given up, the war was over, the Jedi had killed General Grievous. But before any of the rumors could be confirmed, new and frightening ones took their place—stories of rebellion, treason, murder, and betrayal. Bail didn’t believe any of them, but they had grown and spread throughout the night. Finally, he had decided to see for himself just what was going on.
The first thing he saw was a cloud of black smoke billowing upward from the Jedi Temple. As he drew nearer, he saw white-clad clone troopers everywhere. Where are the Jedi? Did the Separatists attack the Temple?
No one seemed to be actually shooting, so Bail decided to land. Perhaps he could find out more. He picked a landing platform near the Temple entrance. Four clones stood guard in the doorway, but they lowered their weapons when they saw his Senatorial robes. “Don’t worry, sir,” one of them said. “The situation is under control.”
“What’s going on?” Bail asked, trying to sound casual instead of desperately anxious to know.
“There has been a rebellion, sir.”
A rebellion? The smoke and the clone guards suddenly took on a new, sinister meaning. The Jedi rebelled? Or…the clones? This doesn’t make sense! “That’s impossible!”
“Don’t worry, sir,” the clone said again. “The situation is under control.”
Bail frowned and started toward the Temple doors. As long as it was safe, he’d just go in and see for himself. But the clones blocked his path. “I’m sorry sir. No one is allowed entry.” The clone paused, and to Bail’s surprise and dismay, raised his blaster rifle. “It’s ti
me for you to leave, sir,” he said pointedly.
Reluctantly, Bail turned back toward his speeder. It wouldn’t do any good to get himself killed—and he didn’t want to find out whether the clone troops really would fire on a Senator.
Just as he reached the speeder, he heard shots. Turning, he saw a boy, no more than ten years old, wearing Jedi robes and a desperate expression. He held a lightsaber, and the clone troops were shooting at him!
As Bail stared in horror, one of the clones looked up from the fight and pointed straight at him. “Take care of him,” the clone told the four who had been guarding the door, and then he went back to the fight.
Bail leaped over his speeder an instant before the laser bolts started crashing around him. But the speeder wasn’t armored; the clones would destroy it—and Bail—in a few moments, once they concentrated their fire. His only hope was to get away.
More clones were pouring out of the Jedi Temple; the Jedi boy must have been cut down. Angrily, Bail set the speeder in motion. A few stray shots followed him, but then the clones turned and went back inside the Temple. Why should they bother with me? I’m not a Jedi.
On the flight back to his office, Bail had a little time to think. Clone troops didn’t act without orders, and there was only one person who could have ordered them to attack the Jedi Temple. Chancellor Palpatine. And Palpatine didn’t leave loose ends. He must have some plan for disposing of the other Jedi who were off-planet. Also, Bail himself would become a loose end, if Palpatine heard about his visit to the Temple. Of course, Bail hadn’t told the clones his name; if they hadn’t recognized him, the Chancellor would never know. But Bail wasn’t foolish enough to depend on that.
Bail flipped his communicator on and snapped orders. By the time he got back to his office, his two aides had packed up his most vital papers and were ready to go. There was one bad moment when two of the Chancellor’s red-robed guards stopped them and demanded identification, but they were satisfied with his Senatorial ID card. Still, Bail’s shoulders sagged in relief when he and his aides boarded the Alderaan starcruiser.
Captain Antilles, his pilot, was already on board with the rest of the crew. Bail wasted no time on pleasantries. “Were you able to get hold of a Jedi homing beacon?” he demanded.
“Yes, sir,” Captain Antilles replied. “We’ve encountered no opposition. The clones are still a bit confused.”
That’s not surprising, if they’ve killed off all their Jedi commanders. Bail shuddered at the thought. He knew the confusion wouldn’t last long—but at least it had lasted long enough for them to get away from Coruscant.
Bail gave the signal for the starcruiser to take off. They had the homing beacon; there was no more reason to stay. Hopefully, we can intercept a few Jedi before they walk into this…catastrophe, he thought as the ship left the atmosphere. He refused to think about just how few Jedi might be left to answer his bootleg beacon.
Padmé heard the sound of a vehicle outside and hurried onto the veranda. A stab of relief made her head swim when she saw that it was a Jedi starfighter—and Anakin was climbing out of the cockpit onto the veranda stairs. “Are you all right?” she demanded, needing to hear it even though she could see that he was well. “I heard there was an attack on the Jedi Temple. You can see the smoke from here.”
“I’m fine,” Anakin said. His deep voice was tired; there was an edge to it, and to the way he moved. “I came to see if you and the baby are safe.”
“Captain Typho’s here,” Padmé assured him. “We’re safe. What’s happening?” Behind them, she heard C-3PO asking R2-D2 the same question.
“The situation is not good,” Anakin said heavily. “The Jedi Council has tried to overthrow the Republic.”
Padmé stared at him in utter shock. He wasn’t joking; she could see that he wasn’t joking. “I can’t believe that!” she said at last.
“I couldn’t either, at first,” Anakin told her. “But it’s true. I saw Master Windu attempt to assassinate the Chancellor myself.”
How? How can this be? Padmé found a chair and sat down, stunned. “What are you going to do?” she asked at last.
“I will not betray the Republic,” Anakin said. He swallowed. “My loyalties lie with the Chancellor and with the Senate. And with you.”
With me, yes; I believe that. Padmé could hear the sincerity in his voice when he said that, and she had never doubted his loyalty to her. But there had been something odd in his tone when he spoke of the Chancellor and the Senate. Anakin had never cared much for politics. He cared about people, about Padmé and—“What about Obi-Wan?”
Anakin turned away so that she couldn’t see his face. “I don’t know,” he said. “Many of the Jedi have been killed.”
Not Obi-Wan! But…“Is he part of the rebellion?” Padmé asked hesitantly, though she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know the answer.
“We may never know,” Anakin said.
“How could this have happened?” Padmé asked. She looked up, and saw Anakin against the cityscape. The dawn sky was red and smoky—smoky from the burning Jedi Temple, as it had been smoky for days after the Separatist attack. Everyone kept saying that the war was almost over, yet the violence kept growing. “I want to leave,” she said suddenly. “Go someplace far from here.”
“Why?” Anakin sounded genuinely puzzled. “Things are different now. There is a new order.”
Things are too different. War and death and betrayal are everywhere. My friends in the Senate are near to treason, and I’m not sure they’re wrong. And I can’t talk to you about it because it would be your job to arrest them. And maybe me. “I want to bring up our child somewhere safe,” she said, and realized in some surprise that she had summed up everything she felt in one sentence.
“I want that, too,” Anakin said. “But that place is here.”
No, it isn’t. Can’t you see how dangerous Coruscant has become? But Anakin was a fighter; he’d been away at war for months. Coruscant probably did seem calm and peaceful to him, after all that.
“I’m gaining new knowledge of the Force,” Anakin went on. Soon I will be able to protect you from anything!”
Padmé reached out to him. “Oh, Anakin, I’m afraid.” Afraid for our child. Afraid for the Republic. Afraid for myself. Afraid for you.
“Have faith, my love,” Anakin said, taking her into his arms. “Everything will soon be set right. The Separatists have gathered in the Mustafar system. I’m going there to end this war.”
Padmé shook her head wordlessly. How many times had they heard that doing this, winning that, killing the other, would end the war? And the war went on. She couldn’t believe in the end of the war anymore.
“Wait until I return,” Anakin begged. “Things will be different, I promise.” He kissed her, long and lingering. “Please, wait for me.”
She couldn’t believe in the end of the war, but she could still believe in Anakin. “I will,” Padmé said, and hugged him.
Anakin smiled in relief, and gave her a careful hug in return. Then, reluctantly, his arms dropped and he looked over at his fighter. With equal reluctance, Padmé let him go. As he climbed into the fighter, she felt tears sting her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Anakin still had a job to do, and she wouldn’t keep him from it, though she wanted so much to have more time with him.
C-3PO backed away, waving to R2-D2. The fighter took off. As it flew into the blood-red dawn, Padmé let the tears come. She felt more alone than she ever had in her life, and she didn’t understand why. After all, she still had Anakin.
Sneaking through the Utapauan tunnels to General Grievous’ hidden starfighter was not just a matter of dodging the clone troops that crowded the stairs and tunnels. Obi-Wan had commanded these clones; he knew the search patterns they would use and which areas they were most likely to inspect first. But the tunnels were home to a number of unfriendly Utapaun creatures, some of which were large and hungry as well as unfriendly. Sever
al times Obi-Wan had to fight his way past them.
When he finally reached the tiny landing platform, he was relieved to see that the clones had not yet discovered the ship. The whole area was as deserted as it had been when he had chased General Grievous into it. Hardly daring to believe his luck, he slipped into the fighter. No laser blasts flared. He studied the controls briefly, then set the ship in motion.
Obi-Wan flew low, hugging the surface of Utapau, until he was well away from the sinkhole city and the masses of clone troops and transports. The clones wouldn’t expect to find Obi-Wan in a Trade Federation fighter, but they might shoot it down all the same. The Separatists were still the enemy—at least, the few times Obi-Wan had seen clone troops in the Utapau tunnels, they had still been fighting Separatist battle droids. There was no reason to take extra chances.
On the far side of Utapau, Obi-Wan headed into space. As soon as he was out of scanning range, he activated the fighter’s comm and punched in the main Jedi communication frequency. To his surprise, all he got was static.
Frowning, he tried another frequency, with the same result. And another. Finally, he set the comm to scan. After a minute, it began beeping steadily. A Jedi homing beacon! But there aren’t supposed to be any other Jedi out here. He picked up his comlink.
“Emergency Code Nine Thirteen,” Obi-Wan said. “I have no contact on any frequency. Are there any Jedi out there? Anywhere?”
A wavering hologram image appeared above the comm. Quickly, Obi-Wan locked on to the signal, and the image steadied. To his surprise, it was Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan. What’s he doing with a Jedi homing beacon?
“Master Kenobi?” The Senator sounded pleased to see him, at least.
“Senator Organa,” Obi-Wan said. “My clone troops turned on me. I need help.”
Bail Organa did not look surprised, and his next words explained why. “We have just rescued Master Yoda,” he said. “It appears this ambush has happened everywhere. Lock onto my coordinates.”
Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith Page 9
