Episode 2 - Attack Of The Clones (RA Salvatore), Star Wars - Books And Short Stories
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[Image001]EPISODE IIATTACK OF THE CLONESbyR. A. SalvatoreTHE BALLANTINE PUBLISHING GROUPNEW YORKCONTENTSA long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... 3Prologue 4= I = 5= II = 7= III = 12= IV = 14= V = 16= VI = 20= VII = 23= VIII = 25= IX = 34= X = 36= XI = 40= XII = 42= XIII = 46= XIV = 50= XV = 54= XVI = 60= XVII = 64= XVIII = 68= XIX = 72= XX = 77= XXI = 80= XXII = 84= XXIII = 89= XXIV = 95A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...PrologueHis mind absorbed the scene before him, so quiet and calm and...normal.It was the life he had always wanted, a gathering of family andfriends-he knew that they were just that, though the only one he recognizedwas his dear mother.This was the way it was supposed to be. The warmth and the love, thelaughter and the quiet times. This was how he had always dreamed it wouldbe, how he had always prayed it would be. The warm, inviting smiles. Thepleasant conversation. The gentle pats on shoulders.But most of all there was the smile of his beloved mother, so happynow, no more a slave. When she looked at him, he saw all of that and more,saw how proud she was of him, how joyful her life had become.She moved before him, her face beaming, her hand reaching out for himto gently stroke his face. Her smile brightened, then widened some more.Too much more. For a moment, he thought the exaggeration a product oflove beyond normal bounds, but the smile continued to grow, his mother'sface stretching and contorting weirdly.She seemed to be moving in slow motion then. They all did, slowing asif their limbs had become heavy.No, not heavy, he realized, his warm feelings turning suddenly hot. Itwas as if these friends and his mother were becoming rigid and stiff, as ifthey were becoming something less than living and breathing humans. Hestared back at that caricature of a smile, the twisted face, and recognizedthe pain behind it, a crystalline agony.He tried to call out to her, to ask her what she needed him to do, askher how he could help.Her face twisted even more, blood running from her eyes. Her skincrystallized, becoming almost translucent, almost like glass.Glass! She was glass! The light glistened off her crystallinehighlights, the blood ran fast over her smooth surface. And her expression,a look of resignation and apology, a look that said she had failed him andthat he had failed her, drove a sharp point straight into the helplessonlooker's heart.He tried to reach out for her, tried to save her.Cracks began to appear in the glass. He heard the crunching sounds asthey elongated.He cried out repeatedly, reached for her desperately. Then he thoughtof the Force, and sent his thoughts there with all his willpower, reachingfor her with all his energy.But then, she shattered.The Jedi Padawan jumped to a sitting position in his cot on thestarship, his eyes popping open wide, sweat on his forehead and his breathcoming in gasps. A dream. It was all a dream.He told himself that repeatedly as he tried to settle back down on thecot. It was all a dream.Or was it?He could see things, after all, before they happened."Ansion!" came a call from the front of the ship, the familiar voice ofhis Master.He knew that he had to shake the dream away, had to focus on the eventsat hand, the latest assignment beside his Master, but that was easier saidthan done.For he saw her again, his mother, her body going rigid, crystallizing,then exploding into a million shattered shards.He looked up ahead, envisioning his Master at the controls, wonderingif he should tell all to the Jedi, wondering if the Jedi would be able tohelp him. But that thought washed away as soon as it had crossed his mind.His Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, would not be able to help. They were tooinvolved in other things, in his training, in minor assignments like theborder dispute that had brought them so far out from Coruscant.The Padawan wanted to get back to Coruscant, as soon as possible. Heneeded guidance now, but not the kind he was getting from Obi-Wan.He needed to speak with Chancellor Palpatine again, to hear the man'sreassuring words. Palpatine had taken a great interest in him over the lastten years, making sure that he always got a chance to speak with himwhenever he and Obi-Wan were on Coruscant.The Padawan took great comfort in that now, with the terrible dream sovivid in his thoughts. For the Chancellor, the wise leader of all theRepublic, had promised him that his powers would soar to previously unknownheights, that he would become a power even among the powerful Jedi.Perhaps that was the answer. Perhaps the mightiest of the Jedi, themightiest of the mighty, could strengthen the fragile glass."Ansion," came the call again from the front. "Anakin, get up here!"= I =Shmi Skywalker Lars stood on the edge of the sand berm marking theperimeter of the moisture farm, one leg up higher, to the very top of theridge, knee bent. With one hand on that knee for support, the middle-agedwoman, her dark hair slightly graying, her face worn and tired, stared up atthe many bright dots of starlight on this crisp Tatooine night. No sharpedges broke the landscape about her, just the smooth and rounded forms ofwindblown sand dunes on this planet of seemingly endless sands. Somewhereout in the distance a creature groaned, a plaintive sound that resonateddeeply within Shmi this night.This special night.Her son Anakin, her dearest little Annie, turned twenty this night, abirthday Shmi observed each year, though she hadn't seen her beloved childin a decade. How different he must be! How grown, how strong, how wise inthe ways of the Jedi by now! Shmi, who had lived all of her life in a smallarea of drab Tatooine, knew that she could hardly imagine the wonders herboy might have found out there among the stars, on planets so different fromthis, with colors more vivid and water that filled entire valleys.A wistful smile widened on her still-pretty face as she rememberedthose days long ago, when she and her son had been slaves of the wretchWatto. Annie, with his mischief and his dreams, with his independentattitude and unsurpassed courage, used to so infuriate the Toydarian junkdealer. Despite the hardships of life as a slave, there had been good times,too, back then. Despite their meager food, their meager possessions, despitethe constant complaining and ordering about by Watto, she had been withAnnie, her beloved son."You should come in," came a quiet voice behind her.Shmi's smile only widened, and she turned to see her stepson, OwenLars, walking over to join her. He was a stocky and strong boy aboutAnakin's age, with short brown hair, a few bristles, and a wide face thatcould not hide anything that was within his heart.Shmi tousled Owen's hair when he moved beside her, and he responded bydraping an arm across her shoulders and kissing her on the cheek."No starship tonight, Mom?" Owen asked good-naturedly. He knew why Shmihad come out here, why she came out here so very often in the quiet night.Shmi turned her hand over and gently stroked it down Owen's face,smiling. She loved this young man as she loved her own son, and he had beenso good to her, so understanding of the hole that remained within her heart.Without jealousy, without judgment, Owen had accepted Shmi's pain and hadalways given her a shoulder to lean on."No starship this night," she replied, and she looked back up at thestarry canopy. "Anakin must be busy saving the galaxy or chasing smugglersand other outlaws. He has to do those things now, you know.""Then I shall sleep more soundly from this night forward," Owen repliedwith a grin.Though she was kidding, of course, Shmi did realize a bit of truth inher presumption about Anakin. He was a special child, something beyond thenorm-even for a Jedi, she believed. Anakin had always stood taller thananyone else. Not physically-physically, as Shmi remembered him, he was justa smiling little boy, with curious eyes and sandy blond hair. But Anniecould do things, and so very well. He was the first human ever to win one ofthe Podraces, and that when he was only nine years old! And in a racer that,Shmi remembered with an even wider smile, had been built with spare partstaken from Watto's junkyard.But that was Anakin's way, because he was not like the other children,or even like other adults. Anakin could "see" things before they happened,as if he was so tuned to the world about him that he understood innately thelogical conclusion to any course of events. He could often sense problemswith his Podracer, for example, long before those problems manifestedthemselves in a catastrophic way. He had once told her that he could feelthe upcoming obstacles in any course before he actually saw them. It was hisspecial way, and that was why ... [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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[Image001]EPISODE IIATTACK OF THE CLONESbyR. A. SalvatoreTHE BALLANTINE PUBLISHING GROUPNEW YORKCONTENTSA long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... 3Prologue 4= I = 5= II = 7= III = 12= IV = 14= V = 16= VI = 20= VII = 23= VIII = 25= IX = 34= X = 36= XI = 40= XII = 42= XIII = 46= XIV = 50= XV = 54= XVI = 60= XVII = 64= XVIII = 68= XIX = 72= XX = 77= XXI = 80= XXII = 84= XXIII = 89= XXIV = 95A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...PrologueHis mind absorbed the scene before him, so quiet and calm and...normal.It was the life he had always wanted, a gathering of family andfriends-he knew that they were just that, though the only one he recognizedwas his dear mother.This was the way it was supposed to be. The warmth and the love, thelaughter and the quiet times. This was how he had always dreamed it wouldbe, how he had always prayed it would be. The warm, inviting smiles. Thepleasant conversation. The gentle pats on shoulders.But most of all there was the smile of his beloved mother, so happynow, no more a slave. When she looked at him, he saw all of that and more,saw how proud she was of him, how joyful her life had become.She moved before him, her face beaming, her hand reaching out for himto gently stroke his face. Her smile brightened, then widened some more.Too much more. For a moment, he thought the exaggeration a product oflove beyond normal bounds, but the smile continued to grow, his mother'sface stretching and contorting weirdly.She seemed to be moving in slow motion then. They all did, slowing asif their limbs had become heavy.No, not heavy, he realized, his warm feelings turning suddenly hot. Itwas as if these friends and his mother were becoming rigid and stiff, as ifthey were becoming something less than living and breathing humans. Hestared back at that caricature of a smile, the twisted face, and recognizedthe pain behind it, a crystalline agony.He tried to call out to her, to ask her what she needed him to do, askher how he could help.Her face twisted even more, blood running from her eyes. Her skincrystallized, becoming almost translucent, almost like glass.Glass! She was glass! The light glistened off her crystallinehighlights, the blood ran fast over her smooth surface. And her expression,a look of resignation and apology, a look that said she had failed him andthat he had failed her, drove a sharp point straight into the helplessonlooker's heart.He tried to reach out for her, tried to save her.Cracks began to appear in the glass. He heard the crunching sounds asthey elongated.He cried out repeatedly, reached for her desperately. Then he thoughtof the Force, and sent his thoughts there with all his willpower, reachingfor her with all his energy.But then, she shattered.The Jedi Padawan jumped to a sitting position in his cot on thestarship, his eyes popping open wide, sweat on his forehead and his breathcoming in gasps. A dream. It was all a dream.He told himself that repeatedly as he tried to settle back down on thecot. It was all a dream.Or was it?He could see things, after all, before they happened."Ansion!" came a call from the front of the ship, the familiar voice ofhis Master.He knew that he had to shake the dream away, had to focus on the eventsat hand, the latest assignment beside his Master, but that was easier saidthan done.For he saw her again, his mother, her body going rigid, crystallizing,then exploding into a million shattered shards.He looked up ahead, envisioning his Master at the controls, wonderingif he should tell all to the Jedi, wondering if the Jedi would be able tohelp him. But that thought washed away as soon as it had crossed his mind.His Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, would not be able to help. They were tooinvolved in other things, in his training, in minor assignments like theborder dispute that had brought them so far out from Coruscant.The Padawan wanted to get back to Coruscant, as soon as possible. Heneeded guidance now, but not the kind he was getting from Obi-Wan.He needed to speak with Chancellor Palpatine again, to hear the man'sreassuring words. Palpatine had taken a great interest in him over the lastten years, making sure that he always got a chance to speak with himwhenever he and Obi-Wan were on Coruscant.The Padawan took great comfort in that now, with the terrible dream sovivid in his thoughts. For the Chancellor, the wise leader of all theRepublic, had promised him that his powers would soar to previously unknownheights, that he would become a power even among the powerful Jedi.Perhaps that was the answer. Perhaps the mightiest of the Jedi, themightiest of the mighty, could strengthen the fragile glass."Ansion," came the call again from the front. "Anakin, get up here!"= I =Shmi Skywalker Lars stood on the edge of the sand berm marking theperimeter of the moisture farm, one leg up higher, to the very top of theridge, knee bent. With one hand on that knee for support, the middle-agedwoman, her dark hair slightly graying, her face worn and tired, stared up atthe many bright dots of starlight on this crisp Tatooine night. No sharpedges broke the landscape about her, just the smooth and rounded forms ofwindblown sand dunes on this planet of seemingly endless sands. Somewhereout in the distance a creature groaned, a plaintive sound that resonateddeeply within Shmi this night.This special night.Her son Anakin, her dearest little Annie, turned twenty this night, abirthday Shmi observed each year, though she hadn't seen her beloved childin a decade. How different he must be! How grown, how strong, how wise inthe ways of the Jedi by now! Shmi, who had lived all of her life in a smallarea of drab Tatooine, knew that she could hardly imagine the wonders herboy might have found out there among the stars, on planets so different fromthis, with colors more vivid and water that filled entire valleys.A wistful smile widened on her still-pretty face as she rememberedthose days long ago, when she and her son had been slaves of the wretchWatto. Annie, with his mischief and his dreams, with his independentattitude and unsurpassed courage, used to so infuriate the Toydarian junkdealer. Despite the hardships of life as a slave, there had been good times,too, back then. Despite their meager food, their meager possessions, despitethe constant complaining and ordering about by Watto, she had been withAnnie, her beloved son."You should come in," came a quiet voice behind her.Shmi's smile only widened, and she turned to see her stepson, OwenLars, walking over to join her. He was a stocky and strong boy aboutAnakin's age, with short brown hair, a few bristles, and a wide face thatcould not hide anything that was within his heart.Shmi tousled Owen's hair when he moved beside her, and he responded bydraping an arm across her shoulders and kissing her on the cheek."No starship tonight, Mom?" Owen asked good-naturedly. He knew why Shmihad come out here, why she came out here so very often in the quiet night.Shmi turned her hand over and gently stroked it down Owen's face,smiling. She loved this young man as she loved her own son, and he had beenso good to her, so understanding of the hole that remained within her heart.Without jealousy, without judgment, Owen had accepted Shmi's pain and hadalways given her a shoulder to lean on."No starship this night," she replied, and she looked back up at thestarry canopy. "Anakin must be busy saving the galaxy or chasing smugglersand other outlaws. He has to do those things now, you know.""Then I shall sleep more soundly from this night forward," Owen repliedwith a grin.Though she was kidding, of course, Shmi did realize a bit of truth inher presumption about Anakin. He was a special child, something beyond thenorm-even for a Jedi, she believed. Anakin had always stood taller thananyone else. Not physically-physically, as Shmi remembered him, he was justa smiling little boy, with curious eyes and sandy blond hair. But Anniecould do things, and so very well. He was the first human ever to win one ofthe Podraces, and that when he was only nine years old! And in a racer that,Shmi remembered with an even wider smile, had been built with spare partstaken from Watto's junkyard.But that was Anakin's way, because he was not like the other children,or even like other adults. Anakin could "see" things before they happened,as if he was so tuned to the world about him that he understood innately thelogical conclusion to any course of events. He could often sense problemswith his Podracer, for example, long before those problems manifestedthemselves in a catastrophic way. He had once told her that he could feelthe upcoming obstacles in any course before he actually saw them. It was hisspecial way, and that was why ... [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]