abstract
| - The gunships were a welcome relief to those remaining on the ground, once the rest of the droids were wiped out the ships landed and they scrambled on board. But Anakin hesitated, remembering Padmé’s call through the Force. “Anakin, what are you doing?” Obi-Wan could see his apprentice was tarting to move away. “I'm going to help Padmé,” he said, running back into the city. “Anakin! Anakin! Come back here!” Obi-Wan barked, but the ship was already taking off. “Anakin!” He shook his head as the Padawan vanished from sight, wanting to jump down after him and drag him back. His heart pounding, Anakin ran back through the city following his feelings. I’m coming Padmé, he told her, hold on. She wasn’t dying, it wasn't the same feeling as when he had held his mother. But the urgency was still there, the fear that he could lose her just as he had lost his mother. He found Padmé leaning against a wall at the top of a flight of stairs below the conference room, she was eyeing the descent precariously. Yet as he ran up, smiling at her something made him slow. She wasn't as hurt as he had imagined her to be, her face was streaked with cuts and there were burn marks on her tunic and shoulders like that of a lightsaber. But what had made him start was the fact her right hand was severed. “Padmé, what happened?” He touched her shoulder and she almost collapsed. “Come on, I need to get you out of here.” Padmé didn’t say anything, she merely allowed Anakin to support her as they went down the stairs. It was only when they were going back down the corridor where the suites were that she enquired about Senator Nalanda. Anakin didn’t answer, preferring to silently steer Padmé back to where he and Obi-Wan had left the ship. “She’s dead isn’t she?” Padmé asked finally, Anakin’s maintained silence confirmed her suspicions. “Shoo! Shoo! Go away you horrible thing!” Threepio clanked noisily up the ramp of the ship as R2-D2 drove off the battledroids with electric sparks. Artoo and Threepio had reluctantly stayed behind to guard the ship as Obi-Wan had bade them to do. It was only in the last few minutes that they had met these unwelcome adversaries. Yet there were only a few of them, most of the droids were heading towards the landing craft and back into space. “What could be keeping Master Anakin?” Threepio asked as he emerged from the ship. Artoo chirped a suggestion. “For once I think you are right,” Threepio remarked. “Surely all this noise and smoke around us must be occupying Master Anakin a great deal.” Artoo blatted in reply. “That was quite uncalled for,” the protocol droid said. “You know, you really should be careful that you don’t get deactivated one of these days. Your behaviour will only get you into trouble.” “This is not good at all,” Gunray murmured, the Republic was somehow gaining the upper hand, taking for granted that the Separatists were expecting little resistance. Not only gunships but armoured troops and heavy weapons. “The Republic have amassed a huge army.” “I don’t know how the Republic could have gotten an army so quickly,” Dooku commented. “They must be made to pay for this treachery.” “I am authorising a full withdrawal,” Gunray ordered, an aide relaying the command. “We must save what we can.” The Separatists were retreating, that was made plain by the number of ships running from the Republic’s attack. Yoda’s strategy had the Separatists engaged on five fronts, they couldn’t have lasted the barrage for long anyway. “Where is Dooku?” Mace asked Obi-Wan. “He…escaped,” Obi-Wan replied, staring out at the vast expanse of clouds and cursing himself for doing nothing. “Blame not yourself, Obi-Wan,” Yoda murmured, his gaze alert. “Focus on the now we must.” The gunship’s doors closed and it entered space to regroup on board the Republic capital ships. Around them were the many star fighters, engaging the droid fighters and allowing them a path. Where Obi-Wan and the others were was anyone’s guess, but Anakin knew that they weren’t going to wait around for him. And it was a pretty big ask to expect the ship he borrowed from Senator Nalanda was still there. Yet it was, and completely untouched. Threepio and Artoo were arguing as he approached yet they got on board when he told them to. R2-D2 got the ship off the ground as he helped Padmé onto the couch at the back of the ship. She had almost passed out and was murmuring softly, exhaustion probably. He applied a bacta patch to her wound and threw Obi-Wan’s cloak over her where he had left it earlier then raced back to the cockpit and took over. “Threepio, I need you to help me,” Anakin ordered, emerging into space with the remnants of the Federation fleet still engaging the Republic. “But Master Anakin I couldn’t—” “Threepio!” “Of course, sir,” the droid said if somewhat timidly, sitting obediently in the co-pilot’s seat. He reverted all power to the engines and the forward shields as he entered the fray head on. The retreat was still in full-swing and while he itched to help in the fight himself their escape was his first priority. Besides, the ship he had wasn’t the best for a space battle. “How soon till we’re clear of all this?” he asked Threepio. “Not far, Master Anakin, not far,” the droid said. The ship shuddered violently as their shield generator was taken out. Anakin cursed, knowing what the hit had done. “Master Anakin!” Threepio wailed. “We’ve just lost our—” “I know! I know!” Anakin barked, putting the ship into a dive. From the war room on board the Republic flagship Obi-Wan could see Anakin’s ship, evading the shots of the Federation fighters with phenomenal skill. Yet it wasn't for long, the droid fighters thinned as they returned to their stations. And despite everyone’s best efforts the Separatists escaped into hyperspace, leaving the Republic behind. In the silence that followed Obi-Wan looked around the room. The tired, battered, bloodied Jedi contemplating on what had happened. War had broken out in the galaxy for the first time in a thousand years. And Obi-Wan could not help but think of what had happened at the end of that millennium-ago war. What place in the galaxy did the Jedi have now? “You lied to me!” Kanesh roared pointing an accusatory finger at Count Dooku. “I did nothing of the sort,” Dooku replied silkily, he sat a chair before a control panel. On the screen lay the design for a curious weapon, the ultimate weapon as the Geonosians called it, a battle station the size of a small moon. “You promised that it would be a small sacrifice on our part,” the Brolg continued. “We have lost the planet, we may even have lost the war.” “Quite the contrary,” Dooku said, getting up and standing over the Brolg. “We did retreat, but it is the Republic that have lost, not us.” He smiled, further initiating Kanesh. “We have not only won this battle, we shall keep on winning until the Republic can no longer fight.” “Fine words from one standing on the shores of defeat,” Kanesh retorted. “I should never have sided with you. The Senate shall hear of this, they shall know what you—” He started, gasped for breath as his windpipe contracted involuntarily. Dooku walked towards him, his fingers poised as if grasping something. “You will find that quite unwise,” Dooku said acidly, watching the Brolg’s face change colour before falling to the floor. Dooku returned to sit behind the control panel, transferring the readouts onto a small datapad and leaving the room, Kanesh’s body still on the floor.
|