Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones

by Patricia C. Wrede

  “Why do I hate them?” Anakin stammered between sobs. “I didn’t—I couldn’t—I couldn’t control myself. I don’t want to hate them…but I just can’t forgive them.”

  “To be angry is to be human,” Padmé said.

  “To control your anger is to be a Jedi.” Anakin sounded lost, and she could feel him shaking. That’s it—he’s afraid they’ll tell him he can’t be a Jedi, she thought. But Jedi aren’t superhuman. He knows he shouldn’t have done this. They’ll understand.

  “Shhh,” she told him, rocking him gently.

  “No,” Anakin argued, “I’m a Jedi. I know I’m better than this. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry.”

  “You’re human. You’re like everyone else. Shhhh.”

  She stayed with him for a long time, then made him eat something. He seemed to her so brittle that a harsh word would break him, and she did not want to leave him alone. Near noon, Beru came to tell them that Owen and the homestead’s droids had finished digging Shmi’s grave, and they went out to the simple burial.

  The ceremony did not take much time. Cliegg made a short speech, and Owen and C-3PO lowered Shmi’s body into the grave. Cliegg looked down, tears running across his face. “You were the most loving partner a man could ever have,” he said. “Good-bye, my dearest wife, and thank you.”

  Anakin stepped forward and knelt for a moment at the side of the grave. In a low voice, he said, “I wasn’t strong enough to save you, Mom, but I promise I won’t fail again.” Then, in a whisper that only Padmé was near enough to hear, he added, “I miss you so much.”

  The silence that followed was broken by a string of beeps and whistles. Padmé turned angrily and saw R2-D2 rolling toward them. “Artoo, what are you doing here?”

  C-3PO stepped forward. “It seems that he is carrying a message from someone called Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the Protocol Droid translated. “Does that mean anything to you, Master Anakin?”

  Padmé looked at Anakin uncertainly, but he only nodded and rose to his feet. They made a hasty farewell to the Lars homestead, and Owen told Anakin to take C-3PO with him. Then they all hurried back to Padmé’s starship to play Obi-Wan’s message.

  The recording started calmly enough, with a request to retransmit the message to Coruscant. Padmé made the proper connections and they settled back to watch.

  The news was grim. Obi-Wan had found the assassin, but he had also stumbled across a secret alliance between Count Dooku and the Commerce Guilds. “They have both pledged their armies to Count Dooku,” the little image of Obi-Wan said, “and are forming an—Wait! What!”

  Padmé jerked upright in her seat as the recording showed Obi-Wan being attacked by droidekas, the Trade Federation’s rolling Security Droids. Anakin jumped out of his chair and began pushing buttons, but no matter how he tried, he could not make contact with Obi-Wan again. Then he tried Coruscant. He got through quickly, but the response was not reassuring.

  “We will deal with Count Dooku,” Jedi Master Mace Windu told them. “The most important thing for you, Anakin, is to stay where you are.” He frowned sternly. “Protect the Senator at all costs. That is your first priority.”

  “Understood, Master,” Anakin replied in a dull tone.

  “They’ll never get there in time,” Padmé burst out as the hologram shut off. “They have to come halfway across the galaxy. Look, Geonosis is less than a parsec away.”

  “You heard Master Windu,” Anakin said in the same dead voice. “He gave me strict orders to stay here.”

  You told me before that Obi-Wan was like a father to you—and you just lost your mother. You can’t just let him die. Padmé pressed her lips together to keep from speaking the hurtful words. And Obi-Wan is my friend, too. She reached out and flicked the flight preparation switches on the starship’s cockpit. “He gave you strict orders to protect me,” she said, “and I’m going to save Obi-Wan. So if you plan to protect me, you will have to come along.”

  For a moment, Anakin stared at her uncertainly. Then he gave her a wobbly grin and took the controls.

  I hope we’re in time, Padmé thought as the starfighter rose from Tatooine. We have to be in time.

  The Geonosian prison cell was not particularly uncomfortable; it was just that the energy field in which Obi-Wan was suspended did not allow him any movement. There was a crackle, and a sharp, tingly pain shot through his arm. Oh, yes, and the electric restraints are definitely unpleasant.

  He must have gotten careless on his way back to the starfighter, he thought. If the Geonosians or anyone else had spotted him while he was eavesdropping on the meeting, they’d have stopped him before he got his message off. He hoped Anakin had retransmitted it without doing anything harebrained. Anything else harebrained, he amended; what was the boy doing on Tatooine? If Obi-Wan hadn’t thought to widen the signal when he couldn’t raise Anakin on Naboo, he would never have gotten his message through.…

  The door of the cell opened, and Count Dooku walked in. If he could have moved, Obi-Wan would have stiffened.

  “Hello, my friend,” the Count said. “This is a mistake, a terrible mistake. They’ve gone too far. This is madness.”

  “I thought you were their leader, Dooku,” Obi-Wan said, trying not to wince as the electric restraints crackled again.

  “This had nothing to do with me, I assure you,” Dooku said in a sincere-sounding tone. “I promise you, I will petition immediately to have you set free.”

  He can’t know what I saw, Obi-Wan thought. In what he hoped was a casual tone, he said, “Well, I hope it doesn’t take too long. I have work to do.”

  “It’s a great pity that our paths have never crossed before, Obi-Wan,” Dooku went on. “Qui-Gon always spoke very highly of you. I wish he were still alive.”

  So do I. Obi-Wan suppressed the pang of grief he still felt when he thought of his Master, killed by a Sith Lord during the Naboo war ten years before.

  “I could use his help right now,” Dooku continued, watching Obi-Wan narrowly.

  Despite himself, Obi-Wan stiffened. “Qui-Gon Jinn would never join you.”

  “Don’t be so sure, my young Jedi,” Dooku said gently. “He was once my apprentice, just as you were once his. He knew all about the corruption in the Senate, but we would never have gone along with it if he had known the truth as I have.”

  “The truth?” What truth could justify starting a civil war?

  “What if I told you that the Republic was now under the control of the Dark Lords of the Sith?”

  “No,” Obi-Wan said. “That’s not possible. The Jedi would be aware of it.” But a Sith Lord killed Qui-Gon…and Master Yoda said there are always two. Where has the other one been these ten years?

  “The dark side of the Force has clouded their vision, my friend,” Dooku said sadly. “Hundreds of Senators are now under the influence of a Sith Lord called Darth Sidious.”

  Obi-Wan tried to reach out with the Force to sense the truth of what Dooku was saying, but the electric restraints crackled again and he could not maintain his concentration. “I don’t believe you,” he told Dooku.

  “The Viceroy of the Trade Federation was once in league with this Darth Sidious, but he was betrayed. He came to me for help. The Jedi Council would not believe him. I’ve tried many times to warn them, but they wouldn’t listen to me.” Dooku leaned forward, almost touching the force field. “You must join me, Obi-Wan, and together we will destroy the Sith.”

  Obi-Wan stared. Dooku’s claims about the Senate and the Sith Lord were deeply disturbing—but the fact remained that Dooku had plotted with that same Trade Federation Viceroy to assassinate Senator Amidala, and he was preparing to start a civil war that could tear the galaxy apart. I am a Jedi. I will not be a party to such things. “I will never join you, Dooku.”

  Dooku studied him for a moment, then shook his head. As he turned to leave, he said casually, “It may be difficult to secure your release.” Then he was gone.

&nbs
p; The message was clear: Join me, or you stay here. Hung up in a force field with electric restraints, with no chance to escape and report what he had learned—Obi-Wan tried to shake his head, but the energy field kept it from moving. Maybe he should pretend to join Dooku; then as soon as they let him out, he could…but no, that wouldn’t work. Dooku had been a Jedi. He would sense Obi-Wan’s true purpose.

  And what if Dooku had told the truth? If the Senate was under the control of the Sith, if the Jedi Council had ignored his warnings…But surely Master Yoda would not do such a thing.

  Obi-Wan stared at the closed door, feeling very much alone.

  As Obi-Wan’s message finished playing, Yoda frowned. He could sense the shock in the other members of the Jedi Council as Obi-Wan spoke of the treachery of the Trade Federation. But incomplete was Obi-Wan’s report, Yoda thought. He looked at Mace Windu. “More happening on Geonosis, I feel, than has been revealed,” he said.

  “I agree,” Mace said.

  Their first step was to contact Chancellor Palpatine, for the threat to the Republic was plainly greater than anyone had thought. They met in the Chancellor’s office, along with the loyalist Senators who supported Palpatine.

  Everyone listened carefully to Mace Windu’s summary; then Bail Organa shook his head. “The Commerce Guilds are preparing for war—there can be no doubt of that.”

  Yoda’s ears twitched. Listen, these Senators did not. They feared, and reacted. They did not think.

  “Now we need that clone army!” Senator Ask Aak burst out.

  But everyone knew the Senate would never give its approval for that—not until it was too late. And there were not enough Jedi to hold off an army of droids.

  “Through negotiation, the Jedi maintains peace,” Yoda said pointedly. “To start a war, we do not intend.” There might, even yet, be time to talk a way out of the conflict…but he sensed no patience in the room, only fear and urgency as the Senators discussed what to do.

  “The Senate must vote the Chancellor emergency powers,” Mas Amedda suggested at last. “Then he could approve the use of the clones.”

  War, you mean, Yoda thought sadly. What other use was there for an army? Not in centuries had Yoda so wanted to comment, to interfere in the politics playing out before him, but he had already said what was needed, and the Senators had not grasped his meaning. He held his peace. Jedi serve. Make laws, we do not.

  The Senators looked at one another. Plainly, they thought the idea was a good one, but none of them wanted to be the one to propose such a huge change in the way the government ran. Finally, Jar Jar Binks stepped forward.

  “Mesa proud to proposing the motion to give yousa honor emergency powers,” he said to Palpatine, and the matter was quickly settled. Jar Jar would bring the motion up, and the other Senators would support it. When it passed, Chancellor Palpatine would approve the emergency use of the clone army.

  Barely an hour later, Yoda sat beside Mace Windu, looking down from the visitors’ balcony as the Senate seethed. The news had leaked out; he could feel the fear hanging over the chamber like dense fog. Fear is the path to the dark side, he thought, but the Senate would not understand even if there were some way he could tell them.

  With almost indecent haste, the motion to give Chancellor Palpatine full emergency powers was proposed and passed. The Senate cheered Jar Jar’s courage, and Palpatine rose to speak.

  “It is with great reluctance that I have agreed to this,” the Chancellor said. “The power you give me, I will lay down when this crisis has abated. And as my first act with this new authority, I will create a grand army of the Republic to counter the increasing threats of the Separatists.”

  Yoda shook his head sadly. Beside him, Mace Windu stirred. “It is done, then,” he said heavily. He looked at Yoda. “I will take what Jedi we have left and go to Geonosis to help Obi-Wan.”

  That left the other task to him. Yoda nodded, accepting it. “Visit I will the cloners on Kamino, and see what it is they are creating.” And to see whether there still is some way this war to avoid.

  Piloting the Naboo starship to Geonosis was easy. Too easy; Anakin still felt shaken and unsure, and he wanted a job that would keep him too busy to think. Fear coiled around his heart: fear that he would lose control again; fear that Obi-Wan was already dead; fear that Obi-Wan was alive and would despise him when he learned what Anakin had done. It was no good telling himself that Obi-Wan was a Jedi and Jedi didn’t hate. I’m a Jedi, and I hate those Tusken Raiders.

  The thought made his stomach clench, and brought back the bloody scene at the camp. He fought back tears, unable to say whether they were tears of remorse or hatred. To distract himself, he leaned over the instrument panel. Perhaps there was some way to get to Geonosis faster…

  Dragging every possible bit of speed out of the starship kept Anakin’s mind occupied for the rest of the trip. When they reached the planet at last, R2-D2 pinpointed the area where Obi-Wan’s transmission had originated, and they headed for it. Anakin kept the ship close to the ground, partly to keep from being detected and partly because dodging the many rock formations kept his mind fully occupied. Padmé looked for a place to hide the starship.

  “See those columns of steam straight ahead?” Padmé said suddenly, pointing. “They’re exhaust vents of some type.”

  “That’ll do,” Anakin said, and sent the starship down one of them. He landed at the bottom. As he shut the engines down, Padmé turned toward him.

  “Look, whatever happens out there, follow my lead,” she told him. “I’m not interested in getting into a war here. Maybe I can find a diplomatic solution to this mess.”

  “Don’t worry,” Anakin said, forcing a grin. “I’ve given up trying to argue with you.” But he couldn’t help wondering whether she thought he needed the warning, after what he’d done on Tatooine.

  R2 whistled plaintively as Anakin and Padmé left the ship. Preoccupied, Anakin nodded at the droids; most of his mind was concentrated on sensing the Force, searching for life-forms that they should avoid.

  The tall underground corridors seemed empty, but Anakin felt uncomfortable. His unease grew as they went farther into the city. Finally, he stopped. “Wait,” he called to Padmé, and concentrated. There was something…behind; behind and above…

  Anakin’s lightsaber leaped into his hands, and he whirled just as a large, insectlike creature swooped down on him. He cut it down, but more were coming. Padmé dashed through a door at the end of the corridor. Anakin cut down three more of the creatures and followed.

  They found themselves on a narrow walkway above some sort of factory, full of droids and conveyer belts and noisy machinery. The door slid shut behind them, and the walkway began to retract. A moment later, more of the winged creatures poured into the area.

  Anakin readied his lightsaber while Padmé tried to open the door, but there was no switch on their side. The ledge they stood on grew narrower. Padmé looked at Anakin, then at the retreating walkway—and then, to his horror, she jumped off.

  “Padmé!” Anakin cried, and leaped after her. She had landed on one of the conveyor belts, and was already well ahead of him. He started toward her, but the winged creatures attacked and he had to stop to fight them off.

  One of the flying things attacked Padmé. Frantic to get to her, Anakin slashed at the creatures surrounding him, but more and more of them kept coming, blocking him. From the corner of his eye, he saw her fall into a huge empty vat, one of a line moving along another conveyor belt. At least these things can’t get at her in there, Anakin thought, cutting several more creatures in half. And then he saw where the vat was headed—toward a huge cauldron to be filled with molten iron.

  Padmé! The vat was too deep and smooth for her to climb out. She’ll be killed—no, Padmé, please, no…As he struggled to reach her through the clouds of flying attackers, he saw a squat, cylindrical shape fly past on rocket jets. A tiny part of his mind wondered what R2-D2 was doing t
here, but he was too busy fighting to do more than notice the little droid. Padmé…

  His foot slipped. Anakin fell sideways and landed on a molding device. He slid, and his arm caught in the machine. Slowly, it pulled him toward an enormous cutter. He struggled, but to no avail. No! I have to get to Padmé!

  A triumphant whistle pierced the din. That sounded like R2. Anakin craned his neck, and saw one of the vats tip over just before it reached the filling station. Padmé rolled out of it onto a walkway. R2 must have reprogrammed the controlling computer, he thought, and then the cutter came down just ahead of him. He had to reserve all his attention for his own plight.

  He twisted, trying to get himself out of the way of the cutter. His lightsaber was in the hand that was caught; he switched it on, hoping to be able to turn it enough to free himself in time.

  The cutting blade came down again, smashing the lightsaber. The next strike would take off his arm…and then the machines froze.

  Anakin looked up. He was surrounded by droidekas. Farther down, he saw Padmé, also surrounded. An armored figure dropped from the ceiling on a jetpack—that’s the bounty hunter we were looking for!—and pointed a blaster at him.

  “Don’t move, Jedi!” the bounty hunter said.

  So much for rescuing Obi-Wan, Anakin thought bitterly. I couldn’t save my mom, either, and now I’ve brought Padmé right to the people who’ve been trying to kill her. I’ve failed at everything.

  When the Geonosians did not kill them at once, Padmé’s mind began working rapidly. By the time the guards led her and Anakin into a large conference room, she was calm and ready. As they entered, she saw Count Dooku sitting at a large table. The bounty hunter stood behind him, and there were Geonosian guards everywhere, even though the first thing their captors had done was to confiscate their weapons. They certainly aren’t taking any chances, she thought.

  Before anyone else could speak, Padmé stepped forward. “You are holding a Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” she said in her best Senatorial voice. “I am formally requesting that you turn him over to me. Now.”