Камрад
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Да, самое смешное, это не реальные события, это:
[the following is a transсript of an audio recording presented before the Galactic Senate on the afternoon of the first Empire Day; identities of all speakers verified and confirmed by voiceprint analysis]
Учитывая, что в фильме ничего такого вообще не было, следует очень простой вывод - это фальшивка.
То, что реально было (по версии новеллизации).
The spear of energy lengthened, drawing with it out from the darkness the device, then the scarlet blade shrank away and the device slid itself within the softer darkness of a sleeve.
As shouts of the Force scattered Redrobes beyond the office's outer doors, the shadow gestured and lampdisks ignited. Another shout of the Force burst open die inner door to the private office. As Jedi stormed in, a final flick of the shadow's will triggered a recording device concealed within the desk.
Audio only.
"Why, Master Windu," said the shadow. "What a pleasant surprise."
*** (здесь как раз идет запись).
A fountain of amethyst energy burst from Mace Windu's fist. "Don't try to resist."
The song of his blade was echoed by green fire from the hands of Kit Fisto, Agen Kolar, and Saesee Tiin. Kolar and Tiin closed on Palpatine, blocking the path to the door. Shadows dripped and oozed color, weaving and coiling up office walls, slipping over chairs, spreading along the floor.
"Resist? How could I possibly resist?" Still seated at the desk, Palpatine shook an empty fist helplessiy, the perfect image of a tired, frightened old man. "This is murder, you Jedi traitors! How can I be any threat to you?"
He turned desperately to Saesee Tiin. "Master Tiin—you're the telepath. What am I thinking right now?"
Tiin frowned and cocked his head. His blade dipped. A smear of red-flashing darkness hurtled from behind the desk.
Saesee Tiin's head bounced when it hit the floor.
Smoke curled from the neck, and from the twin stumps of the horns, severed just below the chin.
Kit Fisto gasped, "Saesee!"
The headless corpse, still standing, twisted as its knees buckled, and a thin sigh escaped from its trachea as it folded to the floor.
"It doesn't. . ." Agen Kolar swayed.
His emerald blade shrank away, and the handgrip tumbled from his opening fingers. A small, neat hole in the middle of his forehead leaked smoke, showing light from the back of his head.
". . . hurt. . ."
He pitched forward onto his face, and lay still.
Palpatine stood at the doorway, but the door stayed shut. From his right hand extended a blade the color of fire.
The door locked itself at his back.
"Help! Help!" Palpatine cried like a man in desperate fear for his life, "Security—someone! Help me! Murder! Treason!"
Then he smiled.
He held one finger to his lips, and, astonishingly, he winked.
In the blank second that followed, while Mace Windu and Kit Fisto could do no more than angle their lightsabers to guard, Palpatine swiftly stepped over the bodies back toward his desk, reversed his blade, and drove it in a swift, surgically precise stab down through his desktop.
"That's enough of that."
He let it burn its way free through the front, then he turned, lifting his weapon, appearing to study it as one might study the face of a beloved friend one has long thought dead. Power gathered around him until the Force shimmered with darkness.
"If you only knew," he said softly, perhaps speaking to the Jedi Masters, or perhaps to himself, or perhaps even to the scarlet blade lifted now as though in mocking salute, "how long I have been waiting for this . . ."
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