Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones

by Patricia C. Wrede

  “Who was the original host?” Obi-Wan asked, hoping the question sounded casual.

  “A bounty hunter called Jango Fett,” Lama Su answered readily. “We felt a Jedi would be the perfect choice, but Sifo-Dyas handpicked Jango Fett himself.”

  A bounty hunter! Obi-Wan kept his expression neutral. “Where is this bounty hunter now?”

  “He lives here, but he’s free to come and go as he pleases,” Lama Su replied. He waved Obi-Wan through into the sleeping quarters, and continued, “Apart from his pay, which is considerable, Fett demanded only one thing—an unaltered clone for himself. Pure genetic replication. No tampering with the structure to make it more docile, and no growth acceleration. Curious isn’t it?”

  “I would like to meet this Jango Fett,” Obi-Wan said. I would like it very, very much.

  “I would be most happy to arrange it for you,” Taun We told him.

  Their last stop, Lama Su said, would be the training ground. Obi-Wan followed him out onto a balcony. Thousands of men in identical white body armor were drilling in the courtyard below. He said it was an army, Obi-Wan thought numbly.

  “Magnificent, aren’t they?” Lama Su said proudly.

  Slowly, Obi-Wan nodded, feeling very cold. The only thing you can do with an army is fight a war. But Jedi didn’t fight wars; they worked to keep the peace and the laws of the Republic without fighting. Obi-Wan stared down at the endless lines of clones marching past, wishing Sifo-Dyas were still alive to explain.

  True to her promise, Taun We arranged for Obi-Wan to meet Jango Fett as soon as the tour of the clone factories was over. She escorted him there herself. Obi-Wan took careful note of their route through the corridors, and even more careful note of the locking mechanism on Fett’s apartment door once they arrived.

  A boy of about ten answered the door, and Obi-Wan blinked, surprised in spite of himself. The boy had the same dark, curly hair and strong features as the young clones he had seen in the training school, but his expression was sharper somehow, more aware. This must be Jango Fett’s unmodified clone, Obi-Wan thought.

  “Boba, is your father here?” Taun We asked. The boy studied them for a moment, then nodded warily. “May we see him?”

  “Sure,” Boba said, not moving. When he finally stepped aside and let them in, Obi-Wan felt as if he had barely managed to pass some hidden test.

  They stepped into a modest apartment that impressed Obi-Wan mainly by how ordinary it seemed. Looking more closely, he realized that the room was well organized as well as neat. Though Jango Fett must have lived here for at least ten years, Obi-Wan saw few personal items. He’s a bounty hunter; he never knows who might come after him, or when he might have to leave in a hurry.

  “Dad!” Boba called. “Taun We’s here.”

  A man entered from the next room. Though he was instantly recognizable as related to the clones, he looked older than the oldest of them—somewhere in his thirties, Obi-Wan guessed—and he moved with an assurance that the clones could not match. A scar ran down one side of his face, but even without it, he would have looked hard and tough. He nodded at Taun We and eyed Obi-Wan suspiciously.

  “Welcome back, Jango,” Taun We said. “Was your trip productive?”

  “Fairly,” Jango said without taking his eyes from Obi-Wan.

  “This is Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Taun We went on. “He’s come to check on our progress.”

  “That right?” Jango’s expression was skeptical and his tone was cold.

  Obi-Wan smiled disarmingly. “Your clones are very impressive. You must be very proud.”

  “I’m just a simple man, trying to make my way in the universe, Master Jedi,” Jango replied.

  “Aren’t we all?” Obi-Wan asked.

  Through the partially open door behind Jango, Obi-Wan noticed some body armor lying on the floor of the next room. Before he could get a good look at it, Jango moved slightly, blocking his view. “Ever make your way as far as Coruscant?” Obi-Wan asked. He moved slightly to one side, hoping to get a better look.

  Jango moved again, hiding the door. “Once or twice.”

  “Recently?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Then you must know Master Sifo-Dyas,” Obi-Wan said.

  “Boba, close the door,” Jango said to the boy. He smiled stiffly at Obi-Wan as the boy complied. Then he asked Obi-Wan, “Master who?”

  “Sifo-Dyas,” Obi-Wan repeated. “Isn’t he the Jedi who hired you for this job?”

  “Never heard of him,” Jango declared. “I was recruited by a man called Tyranus on one of the moons of Bogden.”

  “Sifo-Dyas told us to expect him,” Taun We put in. “And he showed up just when your Jedi Master said he would. We have kept the Jedi’s involvement a secret until your arrival, just as your Master requested.”

  Curious, Obi-Wan thought.

  “Do you like your army?” Jango asked, the spite clear in his voice.

  “I look forward to seeing them in action,” Obi-Wan replied carefully.

  Now the bounty hunter grinned nastily. “They’ll do their job well,” he said. “I’ll guarantee it.”

  And just what do you think their job will be? But asking that might make the bounty hunter more wary than he already was, so Obi-Wan merely nodded. “Thanks for your time, Jango,” he said cordially.

  “Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi,” Jango replied.

  Wondering if he had imagined the sarcasm in the bounty hunter’s voice, Obi-Wan left with Taun We. He made his farewells to Lama Su and let the Kaminoans lead him back to the platform where he had left his starfighter. The rain and wind outside were even worse than he’d remembered, but he pulled his cloak close about himself and pretended to fiddle with something until he sensed that those inside had left. When he was certain no one was watching, he signaled R4. He had to send a message to Master Yoda and Master Windu at once. They needed to know what he had discovered, and he needed their direction. The situation was much too complex to risk making a false step now.

  In spite of Padmé’s determination to forget about Anakin’s kiss, she couldn’t. The memory kept returning at odd moments during the day when Anakin looked at her—and sometimes, when he didn’t look at her. She should, she thought, have been annoyed.

  But she couldn’t be annoyed when Anakin was in such an exuberantly cheerful mood. He teased her and made fun of her until she stopped talking about politics. He juggled fruit, adding piece after piece until there were too many and they all fell on his head. He made her laugh, over and over, and he laughed with her.

  It felt good to have someone to laugh with. But by evening, as she and Anakin sat before a huge fire in the open hearth at the lodge, Padmé was wondering whether coming to the lake lodge had been such a good idea after all. This was a good choice, she told herself for the hundredth time. Remote, isolated, easy to see in all directions—everything she had said to Anakin was true. The lodge was perfect for security purposes.

  Unfortunately, it was perfect for other things, as well. She couldn’t pretend not to see it anymore: Anakin did care for her. And the more time she spent with him, especially here, where some of her happiest childhood memories were, the more she cared—Stop that, she told herself firmly. You have important work to do. You don’t have time to fall in love. But being firm didn’t stop the empty feeling in her stomach, or keep her from feeling…happy when she saw him come around a corner unexpectedly. And it didn’t erase the memory of that kiss—

  She heard a rustle of movement and looked up as Anakin bent toward her. He’s going to kiss me again, she thought, and even as she turned her head away, she knew she wanted him to. “Anakin, no,” she said, and the words came out sad instead of firm and decisive.

  Anakin looked at her. After a moment, he began to speak—softly, without the confidence she had become used to seeing in him.

  “From the moment I met you, all those years ago, a day hasn’t gone by when I haven’t thou
ght of you,” he told her. “Now that I’m with you again, I’m in agony. The closer I get to you, the worse it gets. The thought of not being with you makes my stomach turn over—my mouth go dry. I feel dizzy. I can’t breathe. I’m haunted by the kiss you should never have given me. My heart is beating, hoping that kiss will not become a scar. You are in my very soul, tormenting me. What can I do? I will do anything you ask.”

  Anything? Would you forget that kiss? Would you stop looking at me all the time, the way you do—let both of us get back to our jobs? Padmé knew she should say the words, but she couldn’t force them out.

  After a moment, Anakin went on, “If you are suffering as much as I am, tell me.”

  Padmé turned her head away. “I…I can’t. We can’t. It’s just not possible.”

  “Anything’s possible,” Anakin said. The confidence was returning to his voice. “Padmé, please listen—”

  “You listen,” Padmé snapped. Why did she have to be wise for both of them? “We live in a real world. Come back to it. You’re studying to become a Jedi Knight. I’m a Senator. If you follow your thoughts through to conclusion, they will take us to a place we cannot go—regardless of the way we feel about each other.”

  “Then you do feel something!” Anakin said exultantly.

  Hadn’t he heard anything else she’d said? “Jedi aren’t allowed to marry,” Padmé said slowly and clearly, as if she were speaking to the little boy she remembered, instead of to this handsome young man she—“You’d be expelled from the Order. I will not let you give up your future for me.”

  “You’re asking me to be rational,” Anakin said after a moment. “That is something I know I cannot do. Believe me, I wish I could wish my feelings away, but I can’t.”

  “I am not going to give in to this,” Padmé said, half to herself. “I have more important things to do than fall in love.” But the words rang hollowly in her ears.

  “It wouldn’t have to be that way,” Anakin said. “We…we could keep it a secret.”

  “Then we’d be living a lie,” Padmé told him gently. “And one we couldn’t keep up even if we wanted to. I couldn’t do that. Could you, Anakin?” She stared at him, willing him to understand, to accept. “Could you live like that?”

  There was a long silence, and she began to be afraid that he would not answer. Finally he said, “You’re right.” He looked into the flames, and added almost under his breath, “It would destroy us.”

  Padmé shivered. There was a frightening conviction in Anakin’s last words. She should be satisfied, she told herself. But she could not shake the feeling that they hadn’t settled anything.

  The more of Obi-Wan’s report Yoda heard, the more disturbing he found it. He sensed the same concern in Mace Windu. But they both waited patiently for Obi-Wan to finish—the hologram signal was weak, and neither of them wanted to risk missing a crucial detail.

  “Do you think these cloners are involved in the plot to assassinate Senator Amidala?” Mace asked when Obi-Wan finished.

  “No, Master,” Obi-Wan said. “There appears to be no motive.”

  “Do not assume anything, Obi-Wan,” Yoda said reprovingly. “Clear, your mind must be if you are to discover the real villain behind this plot.”

  “Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan replied. “They say a Sifo-Dyas placed the order for the clones almost ten years ago. I was under the impression he was killed before that. Did the Council ever authorize the creation of a clone army?”

  “No,” Mace Windu said decisively. “Whoever placed that order did not have the authorization of the Jedi Council.”

  Important, this clone army was, certainly; but also a distraction. Yoda frowned. How to reconcile the two? “Into custody, take this Jango Fett,” he told Obi-Wan at last. “Bring him here. Question him, we will.”

  “Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said. “I will report back when I have him.”

  The hologram faded. Mace Windu reached out and turned the receiver off. Move carefully, we must, Yoda thought. Lose our way, we might, in this maze of possibilities and deception.

  Padmé did not sleep well that night. Toward morning, she heard muffled cries from Anakin’s room, but they stopped before she had to decide whether to go in or not. Another nightmare, she supposed.

  She woke early and decided to sit on the balcony for a while before breakfast. Fresh air was just what she needed to clear her head. As she started out onto the balcony, she realized that Anakin was there before her. She hadn’t noticed him at first because he was cross-legged on the floor, meditating. Quietly, she turned to leave.

  “Don’t go.”

  Padmé glanced back. Anakin’s eyes were still closed, and he did not appear to have moved at all. “I don’t want to disturb you,” she said uncertainly.

  “Your presence is soothing,” Anakin assured her.

  That’s nice, Padmé thought. But I don’t think I can just stand here and be soothing for very long. “You had a nightmare again last night,” she said after a moment.

  “Jedi don’t have nightmares,” Anakin said bitterly.

  “I heard you.”

  Anakin opened his eyes and looked at her, and she could see in them all the torment he was feeling. “I saw my mother. I saw her as clearly as I see you now.” He swallowed hard. “She’s suffering, Padmé. They’re killing her! She is in pain.…”

  Stunned by the conviction in his voice, Padmé said nothing as Anakin rose to his feet. He closed his eyes again for a moment, as if he could not quite bear to look at her. Then he opened them and said miserably, “I know I’m disobeying my mandate to protect you, Senator. I know I will be punished, and possibly thrown out of the Jedi Order. But I have to go. I have to help her.” He looked down. “I’m sorry, Padmé,” he finished barely above a whisper. “I don’t have a choice.”

  There has to be another choice, Padmé thought. She couldn’t stand seeing him so wretched…and then she had it. “I’ll go with you.”

  Anakin looked at her as if he could not make sense of what she had just said. Padmé held his eyes and continued, “That way, you can continue to protect me, and you won’t be disobeying your mandate.”

  She still wasn’t completely sure he had understood, until he took a deep breath and said, “What about Master Obi-Wan?”

  Padmé sighed in relief; it was so good to see hope and determination take the place of his misery. A tiny part of her was frightened by the idea of having so much power over someone—a word or two was all it had taken to restore Anakin’s confidence and good humor. Only a word or two, from her. She brushed the thought aside and smiled. Taking Anakin’s hand, she said, “I guess we won’t tell him, will we?”

  Obi-Wan shut down his transmitter. Take Jango Fett into custody. Right. He looked out at the torrents of rain pouring down just outside the protective canopy of his ship, and sighed. Then he pulled up his hood and opened the ship. Quietly, he slipped back into Tipoca City.

  The Force let him sense and avoid the various people in the corridors, and he reached Jango Fett’s apartment without incident. To his surprise, the door slid open at his touch, and he knew at once what he would find inside. The rooms were no longer neat and well organized. Empty drawers hung open, and the few personal items had vanished. I knew he was ready to leave fast, but I didn’t realize he could leave this fast!

  They couldn’t have been gone long; it hadn’t been that long since Obi-Wan had left them. He checked the wall computer and quickly tracked down the landing platform where Fett kept his ship. Slave I—what an appropriate name for a bounty hunter’s ship, he thought when he read the platform listings. The ship was still there. Obi-Wan took just enough time to call up a map and find the shortest route to the platform. Then he left the apartment at a run.

  The two Fetts were still loading their ship when he arrived. Jango was handing crates up to Boba. In his silver-gold body armor and jetpack, he was clearly the same man who had killed the assassin outside the nightclub. He
had his back to the door, and Obi-Wan charged forward into the rain, hoping to surprise him. But the boy saw him coming and shouted, “Dad!”

  Jango Fett drew his blaster as he turned. Obi-Wan pulled out his lightsaber just in time to deflect the blast. By then, he was almost on top of Fett, and he swung the lightsaber.

  “Boba, get on board!” Jango shouted, and triggered his rockets. He shot up into the air, avoiding Obi-Wan’s blow.

  Obi-Wan spun as Jango flew over his head and landed behind him. The bounty hunter circled, firing toxic darts. Obi-Wan deflected them with the lightsaber. Though he aimed them back at Jango, the bounty hunter avoided most of them, and the rest bounced harmlessly off his armor.

  Suddenly, the bounty hunter shot into the air again and hovered out of reach. An instant later, a laser shell whizzed past Obi-Wan and blew a chunk out of the landing tower. The explosion threw Obi-Wan to the ground, knocking his lightsaber out of his hand. The boy in the ship—he’s firing at me! So was Jango Fett, but Obi-Wan could deflect those shots with his lightsaber. That is, he could deflect them if he had his lightsaber.

  Jango Fett landed just in front of him. Obi-Wan charged forward and grabbed him. As long as we’re close together, Boba can’t fire without hitting his father. But Jango used his rockets again, then kicked Obi-Wan loose in midair. Obi-Wan fell heavily and skidded across the smooth, wet surface, grabbing desperately for a handhold.

  Just when he thought he had one, something flashed down and wrapped his wrists. Clingwire! Obi-Wan thought, and then he was being dragged rapidly toward a support column. Jango clearly meant to smash him against it, but Obi-Wan rolled sideways in time. He used his momentum to pull himself to his feet, then suddenly threw all of his weight against the wire.

  The clingwire dug painfully into his wrists, but the sudden jerk brought Jango down. The bounty hunter lost his jetpack and slid off the flat landing area, down the slope toward the edge of the platform, pulling Obi-Wan with him. Faster and faster they went. Just as Jango Fett was about to slide off the edge, Obi-Wan saw claws extend from his armor to anchor him in place. Then, as he slid past Jango and over the edge, he sensed a flare of satisfaction from his opponent…and the wire around his wrists went slack.