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The Gate Master had seen him on the monitor.

Anakin Skywalker.

Alone.

The huge doors creaked inward; as soon as they were wide enough for the Gate Master to pass, he slipped through.

Anakin stood in the night outside, shoulders hunched, head down against the rain.

“Anakin!” he gasped, running up to the young man. “Anakin, what happened? Where are the Masters?”

Anakin looked at him as though he wasn’t sure who the Gate Master was. “Where is Shaak Ti?”

“In the meditation chambers—we felt something happen in the Force, something awful. She’s searching the Force in deep meditation, trying to get some feel for what’s going on …”

His words trailed away. Anakin didn’t seem to be listening.

“Something has happened, hasn’t it?”

Jurokk looked past him now. The night beyond the Temple was full of clones. Battalions of them. Brigades.

Thousands.

“Anakin,” he said slowly, “what’s going on? Something’s happened. Something horrible. How bad is it—?”

The last thing Jurokk felt was the emitter of a lightsaber against the soft flesh beneath his jaw; the last thing he heard, as blue plasma chewed upward through his head and burst from the top of his skull and burned away his life, was Anakin Skywalker’s melancholy reply.

“You have no idea …”

ORDER SIXTY-SIX

Pau City was a cauldron of battle.

From his observation post just off the landing ramp of the command lander on the tenth level, Clone Commander Cody swept the sinkhole with his electrobinoculars. The droid-control center lay in ruins only a few meters away, but the Separatists had learned the lesson of Naboo; their next-generation combat droids were equipped with sophisticated self-motivators that kicked in automatically when control signals were cut off, delivering a program of standing orders.

Standing Order Number One was, apparently, Kill Everything That Moves.

And they were doing a good job of it, too.

Half the city was rubble, and the rest was a firestorm of droids and clones and Utapaun dragon cavalry, and just when Commander Cody was thinking how he really wished they had a Jedi or two around right now, several metric tons of dragonmount hurtled from the sky and hit the roof of the command lander hard enough to buckle the deck beneath it.

Not that it did the ship any harm; Jadthu-class landers are basically flying bunkers, and this particular one was triple-armored and equipped with internal shock buffers and inertial dampeners powerful enough for a fleet corvette, to protect the sophisticated command-and-control equipment inside.

Cody looked up at the dragonmount, and at its rider. “General Kenobi,” he said. “Glad you could join us.”

“Commander Cody,” the Jedi Master said with a nod. He was still scanning the battle around them. “Did you contact Coruscant with the news of the general’s death?”

The clone commander snapped to attention and delivered a crisp salute. “As ordered, sir. Erm, sir?”

Kenobi looked down at him.

“Are you all right, sir? You’re a bit of a mess.”

The Jedi Master wiped away some of the dust and gore that smeared his face with the sleeve of his robe—which was charred, and only left a blacker smear across his cheek. “Ah. Well, yes. It has been a … stressful day.” He waved out at Pau City. “But we still have a battle to win.”

“Then I suppose you’ll be wanting this,” Cody said, holding up the lightsaber his men had recovered from a traffic tunnel. “I believe you dropped it, sir.”

“Ah. Ah, yes.”

The weapon floated gently up to Kenobi’s hand, and when he smiled down at the clone commander again, Cody could swear the Jedi Master was blushing, just a bit. “No, ah, need to mention this to, erm, Anakin, is there, Cody?”

Cody grinned. “Is that an order, sir?”

Kenobi shook his head, chuckling tiredly. “Let’s go. You’ll have noticed I did manage to leave a few droids for you …”

“Yes, sir.” A silent buzzing vibration came from a compartment concealed within his armor. Cody frowned. “Go on ahead, General. We’ll be right behind you.”

That concealed compartment held