Star Wars: Episode III: Revenge of the Sith by Matthew Woodring Stover; George Lucas Page A
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delicately-oh, so delicately, not to mention reluctantly-insinuates that corruption in the Jedi Order prolonged the war as well.
When he announces the creation of a new order of Force-using warriors.
He will be the perfect commanding general for the Sith Army.
Dooku could only shake his head in awe. And to think that only days earlier, the Jedi had seemed so close to uncovering, even destroying, all he and his Master had worked for. But he should never have feared. His Master never lost. He would never lose. He was the definition of unbeatable.
How can one defeat an enemy one thinks is a friend?
And now, with a single brilliant stroke, his Master would turn the Jedi Order back upon itself like an Ethrani ourobouros devouring its own tail.
This was the day. The hour.
The death of Obi-Wan Kenobi would be the death of the Republic.
Today would see the birth of the Empire.
"Tyranus? Are you well?"
"Am I . . ." Dooku realized that his eyes had misted. "Yes, my Master. I am beyond well. Today, the climax-the grand finale the culmination of all your decades of work ... I find myself somewhat overcome."
"Compose yourself, Tyranus. Kenobi and Skywalker are nearly at the door. Play your part, my apprentice, and the galaxy is ours."
Dooku straightened and for the first time looked his Master in the eyes.
Darth Sidious, Dark Lord of the Sith, sat in the General's Chair, shackled to it at the wrist and ankle.
Dooku bowed to him. "Thank you, Chancellor."
Palpatine of Naboo, Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, replied, "Withdraw. They are here."
=3=
THE WAY OF THE SITH
The turbolift's door whished open. Anakin pressed himself against the wall, a litter of saber-sliced droid parts around his feet. Beyond appeared to be a perfectly ordinary lift lobby: pale and bare and empty.
Made it. At last.
Anakin's whole body hummed to the tune of his blue-hot blade.
"Anakin."
Obi-Wan stood against the opposite wall. He looked calm in a way Anakin could barely understand. He gave a significant stare down at the lightsaber in Anakin's hand. "Anakin, rescue," he said softly. "Not mayhem."
Anakin kept his weapon right where it was. "And Dooku?"
"Once the Chancellor is safe," Obi-Wan said with a ghost of a smile, "we can blow up the ship."
Anakin's mechanical fingers tightened until the grip of his lightsaber creaked. "I'd rather do it by hand."
Obi-Wan slipped cautiously through the turbolift's door. Nothing shot at him. He beckoned. "I know this is difficult,
Anakin. I know it's personal for you on many levels. You must take extra care to be mindful of your training here-and not only your combat training."
Heat rose in Anakin's cheeks. "I am not-" your Padawan anymore snarled inside his head, but that was adrenaline talking; he bit back the words and said instead, "-going to let you down, Master. Or Chancellor Palpatine."
"I have no doubt of that. Just remember that Dooku is no mere Dark Jedi like that Ventress woman; he is a Lord of the Sith. The jaws of this trap are about to snap shut, and there may be danger here beyond the merely physical."
"Yes." Anakin let his blade shrink away and moved past Obi-Wan into the turbolift lobby. Distant concussions boomed throughout the ship, and the floor rocked like a raft on a river in flood; he barely noticed. "I just-there has been so much-what he's done-not just to the Jedi, but to the galaxy-"
"Anakin . . . ," Obi-Wan began warningly.
"Don't worry. I'm not angry, and I'm not looking for revenge. I'm just-" He lifted his lightsaber. "I'm just looking forward to ending it."
"Anticipation-"
"Is distraction. I know. And I know that hope is as hollow as fear." Anakin let himself smile, just a bit. "And I know everything else you're dying to tell me right now."
Obi-Wan's slightly rueful bow of acknowledgment was as affectionate as a hug. "I suppose at some point I will eventually have to stop trying to train you."
Anakin's smile broadened toward a soft chuckle. "I think that's the
When he announces the creation of a new order of Force-using warriors.
He will be the perfect commanding general for the Sith Army.
Dooku could only shake his head in awe. And to think that only days earlier, the Jedi had seemed so close to uncovering, even destroying, all he and his Master had worked for. But he should never have feared. His Master never lost. He would never lose. He was the definition of unbeatable.
How can one defeat an enemy one thinks is a friend?
And now, with a single brilliant stroke, his Master would turn the Jedi Order back upon itself like an Ethrani ourobouros devouring its own tail.
This was the day. The hour.
The death of Obi-Wan Kenobi would be the death of the Republic.
Today would see the birth of the Empire.
"Tyranus? Are you well?"
"Am I . . ." Dooku realized that his eyes had misted. "Yes, my Master. I am beyond well. Today, the climax-the grand finale the culmination of all your decades of work ... I find myself somewhat overcome."
"Compose yourself, Tyranus. Kenobi and Skywalker are nearly at the door. Play your part, my apprentice, and the galaxy is ours."
Dooku straightened and for the first time looked his Master in the eyes.
Darth Sidious, Dark Lord of the Sith, sat in the General's Chair, shackled to it at the wrist and ankle.
Dooku bowed to him. "Thank you, Chancellor."
Palpatine of Naboo, Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, replied, "Withdraw. They are here."
=3=
THE WAY OF THE SITH
The turbolift's door whished open. Anakin pressed himself against the wall, a litter of saber-sliced droid parts around his feet. Beyond appeared to be a perfectly ordinary lift lobby: pale and bare and empty.
Made it. At last.
Anakin's whole body hummed to the tune of his blue-hot blade.
"Anakin."
Obi-Wan stood against the opposite wall. He looked calm in a way Anakin could barely understand. He gave a significant stare down at the lightsaber in Anakin's hand. "Anakin, rescue," he said softly. "Not mayhem."
Anakin kept his weapon right where it was. "And Dooku?"
"Once the Chancellor is safe," Obi-Wan said with a ghost of a smile, "we can blow up the ship."
Anakin's mechanical fingers tightened until the grip of his lightsaber creaked. "I'd rather do it by hand."
Obi-Wan slipped cautiously through the turbolift's door. Nothing shot at him. He beckoned. "I know this is difficult,
Anakin. I know it's personal for you on many levels. You must take extra care to be mindful of your training here-and not only your combat training."
Heat rose in Anakin's cheeks. "I am not-" your Padawan anymore snarled inside his head, but that was adrenaline talking; he bit back the words and said instead, "-going to let you down, Master. Or Chancellor Palpatine."
"I have no doubt of that. Just remember that Dooku is no mere Dark Jedi like that Ventress woman; he is a Lord of the Sith. The jaws of this trap are about to snap shut, and there may be danger here beyond the merely physical."
"Yes." Anakin let his blade shrink away and moved past Obi-Wan into the turbolift lobby. Distant concussions boomed throughout the ship, and the floor rocked like a raft on a river in flood; he barely noticed. "I just-there has been so much-what he's done-not just to the Jedi, but to the galaxy-"
"Anakin . . . ," Obi-Wan began warningly.
"Don't worry. I'm not angry, and I'm not looking for revenge. I'm just-" He lifted his lightsaber. "I'm just looking forward to ending it."
"Anticipation-"
"Is distraction. I know. And I know that hope is as hollow as fear." Anakin let himself smile, just a bit. "And I know everything else you're dying to tell me right now."
Obi-Wan's slightly rueful bow of acknowledgment was as affectionate as a hug. "I suppose at some point I will eventually have to stop trying to train you."
Anakin's smile broadened toward a soft chuckle. "I think that's the
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