rasalvatore.attackoftheclones-第1部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　
　His　mind　absorbed　the　scene　before　him；　so　quiet　and　calm　and　。　。　。　normal。　It　was　the　life　he　had　always　wanted；　a　gathering　of　family　and　friends…he　knew　that　they　were　just　that；　though　the　only　one　he　recognized　was　his　dear　mother。
　
　This　was　the　way　it　was　supposed　to　be。　The　warmth　and　the　love；　the　laughter　and　the　quiet　times。　This　was　how　he　had　always　dreamed　it　would　be；　how　he　had　always　prayed　it　would　be。　The　warm；　inviting　smiles。　The　pleasant　conversation。　The　gentle　pats　on　shoulders。
　
　But　most　of　all　there　was　the　smile　of　his　beloved　mother；　so　happy　now；　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　bee。
　
　She　moved　before　him；　her　face　beaming；　her　hand　reaching　out　for　him　to　gently　stroke　his　face。　Her　smile　brightened；　then　widened　some　more。　Too　much　more。　For　a　moment；　he　thought　the　exaggeration　a　product　of　love　beyond　normal　bounds；　but　the　smile　continued　to　grow；　his　mother's　face　stretching　and　contorting　weirdly。
　
　She　seemed　to　be　moving　in　slow　motion　then。　They　all　did；　slowing　as　if　their　limbs　had　bee　heavy。
　
　No；　not　heavy；　he　realized；　his　warm　feelings　turning　suddenly　hot。　It　was　as　if　these　friends　and　his　mother　were　being　rigid　and　stiff；　as　if　they　were　being　something　less　than　living　and　breathing　humans。　He　stared　back　at　that　caricature　of　a　smile；　the　twisted　face；　and　recognized　the　pain　behind　it；　a　crystalline　agony。
　
　He　tried　to　call　out　to　her；　to　ask　her　what　she　needed　him　to　do；　ask　her　how　he　could　help。
　
　Her　face　twisted　even　more；　blood　running　from　her　eyes。　Her　skin　crystallized；　being　almost　translucent；　almost　like　glass。　Glass！　She　was　glass！　The　light　glistened　off　her　crystalline　highlights；　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　and　that　he　had　failed　her；　drove　a　sharp　point　straight　into　the　helpless　onlooker'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　as　they　elongated。
　
　He　cried　out　repeatedly；　reached　for　her　desperately。　Then　he　thought　of　the　Force；　and　sent　his　thoughts　there　with　all　his　willpower；　reaching　for　her　with　all　his　energy。
　
　But　then；　she　shattered。
　
　　The　Jedi　Padawan　jumped　to　a　sitting　position　in　his　cot　on　the　starship；　his　eyes　popping　open　wide；　sweat　on　his　forehead　and　his　breath　ing　in　gasps。　A　dream。　It　was　all　a　dream。
　
　He　told　himself　that　repeatedly　as　he　tried　to　settle　back　down　on　the　cot。
　
　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　of　his　Master。
　
　He　knew　that　he　had　to　shake　the　dream　away；　had　to　focus　on　the　events　at　hand；　the　latest　assignment　beside　his　Master；　but　that　was　easier　said　than　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；　wondering　if　he　should　tell　all　to　the　Jedi；　wondering　if　the　Jedi　would　be　able　to　help　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　too　involved　in　other　things；　in　his　training；　in　minor　assignments　like　the　border　dispute　that　had　brought　them　so　far　out　from　Coruscant。
　
　The　Padawan　wanted　to　get　back　to　Coruscant；　as　soon　as　possible。　He　needed　guidance　now；　but　not　the　kind　he　was　getting　from　Obi…Wan。　He　needed　to　speak　with　Chancellor　Palpatine　again；　to　hear　the　man's　reassuring　words。　Palpatine　had　taken　a　great　interest　in　him　over　the　last　ten　years；　making　sure　that　he　always　got　a　chance　to　speak　with　him　whenever　he　and　Obi…Wan　were　on　Coruscant。
　
　The　Padawan　took　great　fort　in　that　now；　with　the　terrible　dream　so　vivid　in　his　thoughts。　For　the　Chancellor；　the　wise　leader　of　all　the　Republic；　had　promised　him　that　his　powers　would　soar　to　previously　unknown　heights；　that　he　would　bee　a　power　even　among　the　powerful　Jedi。　Perhaps　that　was　the　answer。　Perhaps　the　mightiest　of　the　Jedi；　the　mightiest　of　the　mighty；　could　strengthen　the　fragile　glass。
　〃Ansion；〃　came　the　call　again　from　the　front。　〃Anakin；　get　up　here！〃
　
　Chapter　One
　
　Shmi　Skywalker　Lars　stood　on　the　edge　of　the　sand　berm　marking　the　perimeter　of　the　moisture　farm；　one　leg　up　higher；　to　the　very　top　of　the　ridge；　knee　bent。　With　one　hand　on　that　knee　for　support；　the　middle…aged　woman；　her　dark　hair　slightly　graying；　her　face　worn　and　tired；　stared　up　at　the　many　bright　dots　of　starlight　on　this　crisp　Tatooine　night。　No　sharp　edges　broke　the　landscape　about　her；　just　the　smooth　and　rounded　forms　of　windblown　sand　dunes　on　this　planet　of　seemingly　endless　sands。　Somewhere　out　in　the　distance　a　creature　groaned；　a　plaintive　sound　that　resonated　deeply　within　Shmi　this　night。
　
　This　special　night。
　
　Her　son　Anakin；　her　dearest　little　Annie；　turned　twenty　this　night；　a　birthday　Shmi　observed　each　year；　though　she　hadn't　seen　her　beloved　child　in　a　decade。　How　different　he　must　be！　How　grown；　how　strong；　how　wise　in　the　ways　of　the　Jedi　by　now！　Shmi；　who　had　lived　all　of　her　life　in　a　small　area　of　drab　Tatooine；　knew　that　she　could　hardly　imagine　the　wonders　her　boy　might　have　found　out　there　among　the　stars；　on　planets　so　different　from　this；　with　colors　more　vivid　and　water　that　filled　entire　valleys。
　
　A　wistful　smile　widened　on　her　still…pretty　face　as　she　remembered　those　days　long　ago；　when　she　and　her　son　had　been　slaves　of　the　wretch　Watto。　Annie；　with　his　mischief　and　his　dreams；　with　his　independent　attitude　and　unsurpassed　courage；　used　to　so　infuriate　the　Toydarian　junk　dealer。　Despite　the　hardships　of　life　as　a　slave；　there　had　been　good　times；　too；　back　then。　Despite　their　meager　food；　their　meager　possessions；　despite　the　constant　plaining　and　ordering　about　by　Watto；　she　had　been　with　Annie；　her　beloved　son。
　〃You　should　e　in；〃　came　a　quiet　voice　behind　her。　Shmi's　smile　only　widened；　and　she　turned　to　see　her　stepson；　Owen　Lars；　walking　over　to　join　her。　He　was　a　stocky　and　strong　boy　about　Anakin's　age；　with　short　brown　hair；　a　few　bristles；　and　a　wide　face　that　could　not　hide　anything　that　was　within　his　heart。
　
　Shmi　tousled　Owen's　hair　when　he　moved　beside　her；　and　he　responded　by　draping　an　arm　across　her　shoulders　and　kissing　her　on　the　cheek。　〃No　starship　tonight；　Mom？〃　Owen　asked　good…naturedly。　He　knew　why　Shmi　had　e　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　been　so　good　to　her；　so　understanding　of　the　hole　that　remained　within　her　heart。　Without　jealousy；　without　judgment；　Owen　had　accepted　Shmi's　pain　and　had　always　given　her　a　shoulder　to　lean　on。
　〃No　starship　this　night；〃　she　replied；　and　she　looked　back　up　at　the　starry　canopy。　〃Anakin　must　be　busy　saving　the　galaxy　or　chasing　smugglers　and　other　outlaws。　He　has　to　do　those　things　now；　you　know。〃
　〃Then　I　shall　sleep　more　soundly　from　this　night　forward；〃　Owen　replied　with　a　grin。
　
　Though　she　was　kidding；　of　course；　Shmi　did　realize　a　bit　of　truth　in　her　presumption　about　Anakin。　He　was　a　special　child；　something　beyond　the　norm…　even　for　a　Jedi；　she　believed。　Anakin　had　always　stood　taller　than　anyone　else。　Not　physically…physically；　as　Shmi　remembered　him；　he　was　just　a　smiling　little　boy；　with　curious　eyes　and　sandy　blond　hair。　　But　Annie　could　do　things；　and　so　very　well。　　He　was　the　first　human　ever　to　win　one　of　the　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　parts　taken　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　the　logical