Attack Of The Clones: Star Wars: Episode Ii by R.a. SalvatoreAttack Of The Clones: Star Wars: Episode Ii by R.a. Salvatore

Attack Of The Clones: Star Wars: Episode Ii

byR.a. Salvatore

Mass Market Paperback | April 1, 2003

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There is a great disturbance in the Force. . . . From the sleek ships of the glimmering Coruscant skyscape to the lush gardens of pastoral Naboo, dissent is roiling. The Republic is failing, even under the leadership of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, elected ten years earlier to save the crumbling government. Separatists threaten war, and the Senate is hopelessly divided, unable to determine whether to raise an army for battle or keep the fragile peace. It is a stalemate that once broken, could lead to galactic chaos.

Mischievous and resolved, courageous to the point of recklessness, Anakin Skywalker has come of age in a time of great upheaval. The nineteen-year-old apprentice to Obi-Wan Kenobi is an enigma to the Jedi Council, and a challenge to his Jedi Master. Time has not dulled Anakin’s ambition, nor has his Jedi training tamed his independent streak. When an attempt on Senator Padmé Amidala’s life brings them together for the first time in ten years, it is clear that time also has not dulled Anakin’s intense feelings for the beautiful diplomat.

The attack on Senator Amidala just before a crucial vote thrusts the Republic even closer to the edge of disaster. Masters Yoda and Mace Windu sense enormous unease. The dark side is growing, clouding the Jedi’s perception of the events. Unbeknownst to the Jedi, a slow rumble is building into the roar of thousands of soldiers readying for battle. But even as the Republic falters around them, Anakin and Padmé find a connection so intense that all else begins to fall away. Anakin will lose himself—and his way—in emotions a Jedi, sworn to hold allegiance only to the Order, is forbidden to have.

Based on the story by George Lucas and the screenplay by George Lucas and Jonathan Hales, this intense and revealing novel by bestselling author R. A. Salvatore sheds new light on the legend of Star Wars—and skillfully illuminates one of our most beloved sagas.

From the Hardcover edition.
R. A. Salvatore was born in Massachusetts in 1959. He is the acclaimed author of the DemonWars trilogy: The Demon Awakens, The Demon Spirit, and The Demon Apostle, as well as Mortalis, Bastion of Darkness, Ascendance, and the New York Times bestseller Star Wars® The New Jedi Order: Vector Prime. He lives in Massachusetts with his wife,...
Title:Attack Of The Clones: Star Wars: Episode IiFormat:Mass Market PaperbackPublished:April 1, 2003Publisher:Random House Publishing GroupLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:034542882X

ISBN - 13:9780345428820

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Rated 3 out of 5 by from Not even R.A. Salvatore can save this story! Let me start by saying that I consider myself a "prequelist". That is to say, I don't think the prequel films are cinematic masterpieces, but that the time period they are set in is ripe with story telling potential. However, much like the novelization of the Phantom Menace, this is a solid adaptation that is weighed down by the source material. R.A Salvatore is a great author, but when you have to content with the plot and dialogue of this film, there's only so much he can do!
Date published: 2017-01-19
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Appreciate the prequels for what they are I know the prequels get a lot of slack but this is still worth a read. It captures the story beautifully with some extra content not seen in the film. Plus pictures!
Date published: 2016-12-17

Read from the Book

Chapter FourThe four starships skimmed past the great skyscrapers of Coruscant, weaving in and out of the huge amber structures, artificial stalagmites rising higher and higher over the years, andnow obscuring the natural formations of the planet unlike anywhereelse in the known galaxy. Sunlight reflected off the manymirrorlike windows of those massive structures, and gleamedbrilliantly off the chrome of the sleek ships. The larger starship,which resembled a flying silver boomerang, almost glowed,smooth and flowing with huge and powerful engines set oneach of its arms, a third of the way to the wingtip. Alongside itsoared several Naboo starfighters, their graceful engines set outon wings from the main hulls with their distinctive elongatedtails.One of the starfighters led the procession, veering aroundand about nearly every passing tower, running point for the secondship, the Naboo Royal Cruiser. Behind that larger craft cametwo more fighters, running swift and close to the Royal Cruiser,shielding her, pilots ready to instantly intercept any threat.The lead fighter avoided the more heavily trafficked routes ofthe great city, where potential enemies might be flying within thecover of thousands of ordinary vehicles. Many knew that SenatorAmidala of Naboo was returning to the Senate to cast her voteagainst the creation of an army to assist the overwhelmed Jedi intheir dealings with the increasingly antagonistic separatist movement,and there were many factions that did not want such a voteto be cast. Amidala had made many enemies during her reign asNaboo’s Queen, powerful enemies with great resources at theirdisposal, and with, perhaps, enough hatred for the beautifulyoung Senator to put some of those resources to work to herdetriment.In the lead fighter, Corporal Dolphe, who had distinguishedhimself greatly in the Naboo war against the Trade Federation,breathed a sigh of relief as the appointed landing platform cameinto sight, appearing secure and clear. Dolphe, a tough warriorwho revered his Senator greatly, flew past the landing platformto the left, then cut a tight turn back to the right, encircling thegreat structure, the Senatorial Apartment Building, adjacent tothe landing platform. He kept his fighter up and about as theother two fighters put down side by side on one end of the platform,the Royal Cruiser hovering nearby for just a moment,then gently landing.Dolphe did another circuit, then, seeing no traffic at all inthe vicinity, settled his fighter across the way from his companioncraft. He didn’t put it down all the way just yet, though, butremained ready to swivel about and strike hard at any attackers,if need be.Opposite him, the other two fighter pilots threw backtheir respective canopies and climbed from their cockpits. One,Captain Typho, recently appointed as Amidala’s chief securityofficer by his uncle Panaka, pulled off his flight helmet andshook his head, running a hand over his short, woolly blackhair and adjusting the black leather patch he wore over hisleft eye.“We made it,” Typho said as his fellow fighter pilot leaptdown from a wing to stand beside him. “I guess I was wrong.There was no danger at all.”“There’s always danger, Captain,” the other responded in adistinctly female voice. “Sometimes we’re just lucky enough toavoid it.”Typho started to respond, but paused and looked backtoward the cruiser, where the ramp was already lowering to theplatform. The plan had been to get the contingent off the exposedplatform and into a transport vehicle as quickly as possible.Two Naboo guards appeared, alert and ready, their blasterrifles presented before them. Typho nodded grimly, glad to seethat his soldiers were taking nothing for granted, that theyunderstood the gravity of the situation and their responsibilityhere in protecting the Senator.Next came Amidala, in her typical splendor, with her paradoxicalbeauty, both simple and involved. With her large browneyes and soft features, Amidala could outshine anyone abouther, even if she was dressed in simple peasant’s clothing, but inher Senatorial attire, this time a fabulous weave of black andwhite, and with her hair tied up and exaggerated by a blackheaddress, she outshone the stars themselves. Her mixture of intelligenceand beauty, of innocence and allure, of courage andintegrity and yet with a good measure of a child’s mischievous-ness,floored Typho every time he looked upon her.The captain turned from the descending entourage back toDolphe across the way, offering a satisfied nod in acknowledgmentof the man’s point-running work.And then, suddenly, Typho was lying facedown on the permacrete,thrown to the ground by a tremendous concussion,blinded for a moment by a brilliant flash as an explosion roaredbehind him. He looked up as his vision returned to see Dolphesprawled on the ground.Everything seemed to move in slow motion for Typho atthat terrible moment. He heard himself yelling “No!” as hescrambled to his knees and turned about.Pieces of burning metal spread through the Coruscant skylike fireworks, fanning high and wide from the wreckage. Theremaining hulk of the Royal Cruiser burned brightly, and sevenfigures lay on the ground before it, one wearing the decoratedraiments that Typho knew so very well.Disoriented from the blast, the captain stumbled as he triedto rise. A great lump welled in his throat, for he knew what hadhappened.Typho was a veteran warrior, had seen battle, had seen peopledie violently, and in looking at those bodies, in looking atAmidala’s beautiful robes, at their placement about the very stillform, he instinctively knew.The woman’s wounds were surely mortal. She was fast dying,if not already dead.“You reset the coordinates!” Obi-Wan Kenobi said to hisyoung Padawan. Obi-Wan’s wheat-colored hair was longer now,hanging loosely about his shoulders, and a beard, somewhat unkempt,adorned his still-young-looking face. His light brownJedi traveling clothes, loose fitting and comfortable, seemed tosettle on him well. For Obi-Wan had become comfortable, hadgrown into the skin of Jedi Knight. No longer was he the intenseand impulsive Jedi Padawan learner under the training ofQui-Gon Jinn.His companion at this time, however, appeared quite the opposite.Anakin Skywalker looked as if his tall, thin frame simplycould not contain his overabundance of energy. He was dressedsimilarly to Obi-Wan, but his clothing seemed tighter, crisper,and his muscles under it always seemed taut with readiness. Hissandy-blond hair was cropped short now, except for the thinbraid indicative of his status as a Jedi Padawan. His blue eyesflashed repeatedly, as if bursts of energy were escaping.“Just to lengthen our time in hyperspace a bit,” he explained.“We’ll come out closer to the planet.”Obi-Wan gave a great and resigned sigh and sat down at theconsole, noting the coordinates Anakin had input. There was littlethe Jedi could do about it now, of course, for a hyperspaceleap couldn’t be reset once the jump to lightspeed had alreadybeen made. “We cannot exit hyperspace too close to Coruscant’sapproach lanes. There’s too much congestion for a safeflight. I’ve already explained this to you.”“But—”“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said pointedly, as if he were scolding apet perootu cat, and he tightened his wide jaw and stared hardat his Padawan.“Yes, Master,” Anakin said, obediently looking down.Obi-Wan held the glare for just a moment longer. “I knowthat you’re anxious to get there,” he conceded. “We have beentoo long away from home.”Anakin didn’t look up, but Obi-Wan could see the edges ofhis lips curl up in a bit of a smile.“Never do this again,” Obi-Wan warned, and he turned andwalked out of the shuttle’s bridge.Anakin flopped down into the pilot’s chair, his chin fallinginto his hand, his eyes set on the control panels. The order hadbeen about as direct as one could get, of course, and so Anakinsilently told himself that he would adhere to it. Still, as he consideredtheir current destination, and who awaited them there,he thought the scolding worth it, even if his resetting of the coordinateshad bought him only a few extra hours on Coruscant.He was indeed anxious to get there, though not for the reasonObi-Wan had stated. It wasn’t the Jedi Temple that beckoned tothe Padawan, but rather a rumor he had heard over the commchatter that a certain Senator, formerly the Queen of Naboo,was on her way to address the Senate.Padmé Amidala.The name resonated in young Anakin’s heart and soul. Hehadn’t seen her in a decade, not since he, along with Obi-Wanand Qui-Gon, had helped her in her struggle against the TradeFederation on Naboo. He had only been ten years old at thattime, but from the moment he had first laid eyes on Padmé,young Anakin had known that she was the woman he wouldmarry.Never mind that Padmé was several years older than he was.Never mind that he was just a boy when he had known her,when she had known him. Never mind that Jedi were not allowedto marry.Anakin had simply known, without question, and the imageof beautiful Padmé Amidala had stayed with him, had beenburned into his every dream and fantasy, every day since he hadleft Naboo with Obi-Wan a decade ago. He could still smell thefreshness of her hair, could still see the sparkle of intelligenceand passion in her wondrous brown eyes, could still hear themelody that was Padmé’s voice.Hardly registering the movement, Anakin let his hands returnto the controls of the nav computer. Perhaps he could finda little-used lane through the Coruscant traffic congestion to getthem home faster.Klaxons blared and myriad alarms rent the air all about thearea, screaming loudly, drowning out the cries from the astonishedonlookers and the wails of the injured.Typho’s companion pilot raced past him, and the cap-tainscrambled to regain his footing and follow. Across the way,Dolphe was up and similarly running toward the fallen form ofthe Senator.The female fighter pilot arrived first, dropping to one kneebeside the fallen woman. She pulled the helmet from her headand quickly shook her brown tresses free.“Senator!” Typho yelled. It was indeed Padmé Amidalakneeling beside the dying woman, her decoy. “Come, the dangerhas not passed!”But Padmé waved the captain back furiously, then bent lowto her fallen friend.“Cordé,” she said quietly, her voice breaking. Cordé was oneof her beloved bodyguards, a woman who had been with her,serving her and serving Naboo, for many years. Padmé gatheredCordé up in her arms, hugging her gently.Cordé opened her eyes, rich brown orbs so similar toPadmé’s own. “I’m sorry, m’Lady,” she gasped, struggling forbreath with every word. “I’m . . . not sure I . . .” She pausedand lay there, staring at Padmé. “I’ve failed you.”“No!” Padmé insisted, arguing the bodyguard’s reasoning,arguing against all of this insanity. “No, no, no!”Cordé continued to stare at her, or stare past her, it seemedto the grief-stricken young Senator. Looking past her and pasteverything, Cordé’s eyes stared into a far different place.Padmé felt her relax suddenly, as if her spirit simply leaptfrom her corporeal form.“Cordé!” the Senator cried, and she hugged her friendclose, rocking back and forth, denying this awful reality.“M’Lady, you are still in danger!” Typho declared, tryingto sound sympathetic, but with a clear sense of urgency in hisvoice.Padmé lifted her head from the side of Cordé’s face, andtook a deep and steadying breath. Looking upon her dead friend,remembering all at once the many times they had spent together,she gently lowered Cordé to the ground. “I shouldn’t have comeback,” she said as she stood up beside the wary Typho, tearsstreaking her cheeks.Captain Typho came up out of his ready stance long enoughto lock stares with his Senator. “This vote is very important,” hereminded her, his tone uncompromising, the voice of a mansworn to duty above all else. So much like his uncle. “You didyour duty, Senator, and Cordé did hers. Now come.”He started away, grabbing Padmé’s arm, but she shruggedoff his grasp and stood there, staring down at her lost friend.“Senator Amidala! Please!”Padmé looked over at the man.“Would you so diminish Cordé’s death as to stand here andrisk your own life?” Typho bluntly stated. “What good will hersacrifice be if—”“Enough, Captain,” Padmé interrupted.Typho motioned for Dolphe to run a defensive perimeterbehind them, then he led the stricken Padmé away.Back over at Padmé’s Naboo fighter, R2-D2 beeped andsquealed and fell into line behind them.From the Hardcover edition.