“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 leave 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, holding 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.
Now, as the battle played out between the Count and Obi-Wan, the older way showed its brilliance. Obi-Wan leapt and spun, slashing side to side, chopping and thrusting, but all of Dooku’s movements seemed far more efficient. He followed a single line, front and back, his feet shifting to keep him constantly in perfect balance as he retreated and came on suddenly with devastating thrusts that had Obi-Wan stumbling backward.
“Master Kenobi, you disappoint me,” the Count taunted. “Yoda holds you in such high esteem.”
His words spurred Obi-Wan forward with another series of slashes and chops, but Dooku’s red blade angled left and then right, then up just enough to send Obi-Wan’s descending blade slipping off to the side. Obi-Wan had to retreat soon after, gasping for breath.
“Come, come, Master Kenobi,” Dooku said, his lips curled in a wicked smile. “Put me out of my misery.”
Obi-Wan steadied himself and shifted his lightsaber from hand to hand, getting a better grip on it. Then he exploded into motion, coming on again fiercely, his blue lightsaber flashing all about. He kept a better measure of his cuts this time, though, reversing his angle often, turning a wide slash into a sudden thrust, and he soon had Dooku backing, the red blade working furiously to keep Obi-Wan at bay.
Obi-Wan pressed forward more forcefully, but Dooku continued to fend off the strikes, and then his momentum played out. He was too far forward, while Dooku remained in perfect balance, ready for a counterstrike.
And then it was Dooku suddenly pressing the attack, his red blade stabbing and retracting so quickly that most of Obi-Wan’s cutting parries hit nothing but air. Obi-Wan had to jump back, and then back again, and again, as those thrusts moved ever closer to hitting home.
Dooku stepped forward suddenly, stabbing low for Obi-Wan’s thigh. Down went the blue blade to intercept, but to Obi-Wan’s horror, Dooku retracted his weapon and thrust it right back out, up high and across the other way. Obi-Wan couldn’t get his weapon back to block, nor could he slide back fast enough.
Dooku’s red blade stabbed hard into his left shoulder, and as he lurched back, Dooku retracted the blade and stabbed along its original course, digging into Obi-Wan’s right thigh. The Jedi stumbled backward, tripping and crashing hard against the wall, but even as he fell, Dooku was there, his red blade rolling over and inside Obi-Wan’s blade, and with a sudden jerk, he sent Obi-Wan’s lightsaber bouncing across the floor.
“And so it ends,” Dooku said to the helpless Obi-Wan. With a shrug, the elegant Count lifted his red blade up high, then brought it down hard at Obi-
Wan’s head.
A green blade cut in under it, stopping it with a shower of sparks.
The Count reacted immediately, backpedaling and turning to face Anakin. “That’s brave of you, boy, but foolish. I would’ve thought you’d have learned your lesson.”
“I’m a slow learner,” Anakin replied coolly, and he came on then, so suddenly, so powerfully, his green blade whirling with such speed that he seemed almost encased in green light.
For the first time, Count Dooku lost his little confident smile. He had to work furiously to keep Anakin’s blade at bay, dodging more than parrying. He tried to step out to the side, but stopped as if he had hit a wall, and his eyes widened a bit when he realized that this young Padawan, in the midst of that assault, had used the Force to block his exit.
“You have unusual powers, young Padawan,” he sincerely congratulated. His little grin returned, and gradually Dooku put himself back on even footing with Anakin, trading thrust for slash and forcing Anakin to dodge and parry as often as he tried to strike.
“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 Yo
da 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.
In 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.”
Attack of the Clones Page 29
