Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (Star Wars: Novelizations #3)

by Matthew Woodring Stover

Alone in the Chamber of the Jedi Council, Anakin Skywalker wrestled with his dragon. He was losing. He paced the Chamber in blind arcs, stumbling among the chairs. He could not feel currents of the Force around him; he could not feel echoes of Jedi Masters in these ancient seats. He had never dreamed there was this much pain in the universe. Physical pain he could have handled even without his Jedi mental skills; he’d always been tough. At four years old he’d been able to take the worst beating Watto would deliver without so much as making a sound. Nothing had prepared him for this. He wanted to rip open his chest with his bare hands and claw out his heart. “What have I done?” The question started as a low moan but grew to a howl he could no longer lock behind his teeth. “What have I done?” He knew the answer: he had done his duty. And now he couldn’t imagine why. When I die, Palpatine had said, so calmly, so warmly, so reasonably, my knowledge dies with me … Everywhere he looked, he saw only the face of the woman he loved beyond love: the woman for whom he channeled through his body all the love that had ever existed in the galaxy. In the universe. He didn’t care what she had done. He didn’t care about conspiracies or cabals or secret pacts. Treason meant nothing to him now. She was everything that had ever been loved by anyone, and he was watching her die. His agony somehow became an invisible hand, stretching out through the Force, a hand that found her, far away, alone...

Sun-dragon