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Random PT ideas

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 (Edited)

Hello everyone. I’ve posted a lot of PT rewrites on this site, all of them cancelled and failures because I can’t seem to choose which story to fall on. That being said, I decided to put ideas, written scenes, and whatever I have in mind here. Hopefully, it’s not all schlock.

Screw lightsabers, I’ll stick with regular swords. At least they won’t blow up in my face like this franchise has.

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Hey guys. Down below was an epilogue I wrote for an Ep 1 rewrite I had planned. This rewrite was more focused on trying to fit with the Disney canon (mainly TCW and Rebels, but not excluding some of the comics), shifting some details here and there. This version has a cast of characters including a teenaged Anakin Skywalker, a younger and more brash Obi-Wan Kenobi, and an original character, Kara Lok (who in some drafts was going to be Kara Qel-Droma), who was a combination of Han’s cynicism and Leia’s devotion to her own cause. While I did have an epilogue ready, I never got around to writing the rest of the story (strange, isn’t it?) because I get on getting conflicted of the story’s details (e.g. when it takes place, what happens exactly, should it really fit with Disney canon, etc.).

Down below is that epilogue. Let me know what you guys think. Probably not that good, but I’d like to know. Thanks.

XXXXX

Anakin could feel the still air in the Council Chamber. He had rarely seen it since he came to the Temple, but he knew it enough to recognize the ornate, circular patterns on the floor, and the twelve chairs of the council seated on the edge. However, the darkness permeated everywhere, save for the center of the chamber.

Anakin gazed at the Jedi Masters standing in a circle. Their blades were lit and held in salute in a ring of colorful light. It was unlike anything Anakin had seen, and he was tempted to join them.

“Keep still,” he heard Windu, who stood in the circle.

Relaxing his grip on his unlit saber, Anakin did as he was told and remained outside of the circle of Jedi Masters. That did not stop him from peaking in the spaces between, and he saw the grandmaster’s seat. Right in front of it knelt Obi-Wan. Anakin was surprised how serene the Jedi’s expression was, especially at such an occasion like this.

Across from Obi-Wan, Master Yoda held in his hand his old lightsaber, used for ceremonial purposes. The small green blade lit up in the darkness, and the ancient master spoke while the saber passed over Obi-Wan’s head.

“By the right of the council… By the will of the Force… Dub thee I do, Jedi…”

Fascinated, Anakin watched the blade hover by Obi-Wan’s braid before Yoda sliced it off in one motion.

“… Knight of the Republic,” Yoda finished.

The blinds peeled away, and natural sunlight flooded into the room. The Jedi Masters extinguished their lightsabers and went over to congratulate Obi-Wan, who stood and scooped up his severed braid in hand. Anakin would have gone first, but the taller Masters kept blocking his way and congratulated Obi-Wan with a “Well done,” or a pat on the back.

At last, Obi-Wan came through the crowd. The Masters fell silent and their gazes on Anakin, who noticed. He managed to clear his throat and smiled at the newly knighted Obi-Wan. “You made it,” Anakin said. “Congrats!”

“Put so eloquently,” Obi-Wan gave a faux wry smile, which turned genuine. “Thank you.”

Anakin continued to grin until Windu spoke, drawing both the young men’s attention to him. “Kenobi, now that you are a knight you will have more duties than before. What happened on Alderaan has left the Senate troubled. They will need the Jedi now more than ever.”

“But for now,” Yoda interjected with a kind smile. “Cherish this moment you must. Today, a good day this is. Risen to the rank of knight you have.”

“… and with a new addition to our order,” said Master Fisto, who turned to the young teenager.

Obi-Wan put a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “I will train him, as Qui-Gon would have wanted,” he told the Masters.

Anakin gave a small smile. Hearing of Qui-Gon did hurt, but he knew the kind master would not want him to dwell on it. He would make him, and Obi-Wan, proud.

“Much work there is, Obi-Wan,” Yoda continued. “For you and your new Padawan. Best to you both, I wish for.”

“May the Force be with you,” Windu said.

Nodding, Obi-Wan and Anakin turned and made their way to the elevator. The door closed behind them, and the new Knight let himself relax his posture. “I can’t believe it actually happened,” he said.

“Neither can I,” Anakin added as he relaxed.

Obi-Wan gave the teen a poignant glare. “But you didn’t do anything.”

“I was there for moral support.”

Obi-Wan shook his head and was silent for a few moments. “Well, I believe we’ve had enough excitement. We should just enjoy the day.”

“As long as nothing else weird happens,” Anakin agreed.

The elevator door slid open. Both Jedi were surprised to see someone, not another Jedi, waiting by the elevator. That someone clicked her boots and saluted them. “Specialist Kara Lok, reporting for duty, master Jedi,” she announced.

Anakin and Obi-Wan just stared at the woman in front of them. They almost failed to recognize her with the gray military uniform and combed hair. At last, Anakin said, “Never mind, I stand corrected.”

“At ease,” Obi-Wan said, as he left the elevator with Anakin. He looked up and down at the new Kara. “‘Specialist Lok,’ now… What is the occasion?”

Kara lowered her hand. “After the Alderaan incident, I was given a promotion…”

“I see.”

“… and I have been assigned to work with you, Knight Kenobi.”

“Ah, you noticed.” Obi-Wan gently brushed the stub of hair where his braid used to be.

“I did. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

Anakin finally broke his silence and said, “Alright, who are you and what have you done with Kara?”

“Still haven’t changed,” Kara rolled her eyes, showing a bit of her old self. “Basically, the Senate’s up in arms with star systems leaving. They want military personnel to work close with the Jedi to make sure certain worlds stay with the Republic. They also want the military to look professional while doing so. Hence, the new look.”

After a moment of taking in this new information, Obi-Wan asked, “And I take it, there’s a mission for us already?”

“We have a meeting with Senator Ibis on Corellia.”

Hearing that name, Anakin’s eyes widen with recognition. “Corellia, isn’t that a world full of starship?”

“And full of veteran pilots,” Kara added with a small smile, knowing full well the Jedi were ready to accept her offer. “I’ll have the Star Hopper ready for departure. We can leave as soon as you’re ready.”

With that, Kara made her leave, Obi-Wan shortly followed. He stopped and looked to the young boy still waiting behind. “Are you coming, apprentice?” Obi-Wan called out with a smile.

“Yes, master,” Anakin returned, following Obi-Wan and Kara down the halls of the Jedi Temple while containing the joy inside of him.

Master Yoda was right. Today was a good day.

Screw lightsabers, I’ll stick with regular swords. At least they won’t blow up in my face like this franchise has.

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I think it’s decent. Kara sounds like she could be an interesting character.

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Kyber Crystals power the only fighter-sized ships in the galaxy with hyperdrive capability.

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thejediknighthusezni said:

Kyber Crystals power the only fighter-sized ships in the galaxy with hyperdrive capability.

Interesting idea. Speaking of Kyber crystals, one idea I had was that during Anakin and Obi-Wan’s fateful duel (which in one of my versions was a three-way duel with Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Maul) was that Anakin, tapping in to the Dark Side, would change the color of the kyber crystal in his saber and would temporarily give his blue blade a red tint.

Screw lightsabers, I’ll stick with regular swords. At least they won’t blow up in my face like this franchise has.

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Swazzy said:

Oh, I thought this was random ideas for everyone. Oops.

It’s fine. I did mean it to be just for me, but you can still post your ideas if you want to.

Screw lightsabers, I’ll stick with regular swords. At least they won’t blow up in my face like this franchise has.

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Hello again, this is another idea for a different PT I planned a few years back. It had been a very different story, where Anakin and Vader were two different people, and was totally inspired by the old “Clone Wars Explained” article from the 1980s I found online (link is here: http://nightly.net/topic/253-article-found-while-surfing-the-net/). Down below is what was once just a small bit, which was once a couple lines here and there and has been turned into a complete excerpt. Hopefully, this is good enough to pique your interest.


It was dark, cold, and wet. Those were the first things he noticed as he came to. For a long moment, there was nothing else, except the feeling of weightlessness and the sound of his own breathing.

Then, there was something from the quiet. A sound of some kind. A shout, he thought. And at last, he managed to open his eyes. Bubbles rose up and down, and through the transparent glass, he saw them. Computers beeping and blinking, people donned in white clothes, and cylindrical tanks, identical to the one he was in, lined up against the wall.

The darkness was gone, but the cold and wet remained. Where he was, what was going on, or even who he was, he had no idea. He was just a body floating in a sloshing and slimy substance.

Bacta, his mind told him. This stuff is called bacta. You’re in a bacta tank.

The words echoed in the back of his mind, as if he was supposed to know it from getgo. Still, he couldn’t help but feel something strange, even unknown about them. He knew the words, but had no connection to them. Were they important to him? Why?

Again, that automatic part of his brain answered. You’re not fully developed. You need bacta, if you want to grow into a perfect being.

Again, he was confused. ‘Grow?’ ‘Perfect being?’ None of the words seem to make sense to him.

The shouting came back, cutting him away from his thoughts. He saw the men in white running back and forth, giving out commands that were barely audible to him.

“… Xanatos’ dead… Jedi coming… do we do?”

“Disconnect the… from the tanks!”

“… won’t survive!”

“Orders are…”

Moments passed, and the men in white went around their duties. He watched them play with their computers. He barely managed to catch some of the tanks suddenly going dark. The bodies inside moved around a little before there was nothing.

Then, pain roared in his head. He heard the screams in his mind, the screams of the other people in the tanks as their lives went out one by one. His hands grabbed his head, wanting to turn off the screams. He could not and suffered hearing the voices cry out in terror before they were suddenly silenced.

All of a sudden, through the cries, he managed to hear something. Before long, there was something else…

A loud BOOM echoed, and the tank, perhaps the entire room, shook, making him just barely look. Smoke filled every corner, covering the men in white with cloud of gray and black. First thing was shouting, then a loud hum as a rod of blue light swung through the smoke and struck down any who approached it.

Events ran too quickly for him to process. What was going on? Why was he hearing all these screams in his mind?! What was happening to him?!

It was at that point he noticed the bacta in his tank was starting to turn dark. Now, he was afraid. He was about to join the poor fellow and be nothing more than a floating corpse. And he would feel it all as he died.

As he thoughts those morbid thoughts, he saw the blue light came through the smoke and struck the tank. The glass shattered, and he slid out onto the floor like a newborn out of its mother’s womb. He yanked the breath mask off, and he finally felt fresh air. His efforts for breathing it in were rewarded with spurts of bacta coughed up from his lungs.

Slowly, he rose until he sat in the puddle of bacta and shivered from what little of the slimy substance still clung to him and his modest clothing. After clearing his lungs of the putrid liquid, he took notice of the other bodies lying around him. They weren’t like him, who was dressed in a thin suit of clothing. They were the men in white, the same who had tried to terminate him, and they lied motionlessly, with horrible burnt scars stretched across their bodies.

Standing over the corpses was a man. This man was not donned in white, but in a light uniform and a brown cloak. In his hand was a cylindrical hilt, from which the blue rod of light came out of. The man stood with an aura of calm… and regret. Not just towards him, but to the others lying at his feet. But who was this man to have such sympathy for him, let alone the people who had tried to kill him?

A Jedi Knight, recalled his programmed mind. An enemy.

He thought about that. An enemy? That couldn’t be right. This Jedi had helped him, saved from the same fate as the others. If he was an enemy, why would he do such a thing?

Eliminate him, the voice in his head commanded, but he tried to shut it out. Eliminate the Jedi!

“Don’t be afraid,” the man, the Jedi, said. “I’m here to help.”

The Jedi’s voice brought a feeling. He could only describe it as calm, at peace. The parts of his mind that cried out for the Jedi’s destruction faded away.

No longer haunted by his thoughts, he spoke. The sound of speaking for the first time had hurt his throat, and it came out in a hoarse croak. “Y-you can help me?”

“Yes, I can,” the Jedi smiled, and his beard seemed to do so too. “My name’s Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan Kenobi. What’s yours?”

He opened his mouth, then stopped. Then, he looked down at band around his wrist. On it was a tag on it: VDR-142.

At last, he looked up and answered, “Vader, sir. It’s Vader.”


At the sound of a high-pitched and constantly repeated beeping, Vader’s eyes snapped open. He rubbed a hand over the weary eye sockets before he rolled on his side. By the bed, the source of his disturbance continued to ring, until Vader finally pressed the button and answered.

“Yes?” he said with a small yawn.

Captain Cody’s voice came through. “Sir, Master Luminara and her student have just arrived.”

A bit of excitement leaped up Vader’s throat as he raised his head from his pillow. “Where are they, now?” he asked, a little more loudly than he wanted.

“By the console chamber. They and General Kenobi are waiting for you.”

“I’ll be right there,” and with an excited click, Vader shut off the comm and sat up from his bed.

Barriss is here, he thought excitedly as he pictured the bright green face of Luminara’s pupil and her warm smile.

Vader had seen that same smile back when he first met Barriss at the Temple. Then, he was just inducted into the Jedi and in dire need of companionship. Vader had found it in a few Jedi students, Barriss more special than the rest, so he would be glad to be with her whenever he had the chance.

It was not long before Vader had put on his dark uniform. After putting on his pants and boots, Vader neatly pressed the seams of his tunic and added the long, flapping cloak to his Jedi look. His mask, the last thing left, rested by the mirror in his quarters, so Vader went over to grab it.

Vader’s hand halted when he looked at the mirror. It was meant to be just a glance, to see if he was primed and ready for Barriss, and the Jedi Masters. Then, it turned into a long, deep glance.

As Vader stared at the mirror, he looked at the face in it. He saw the familiar deep, blue eyes, cleft chin, and wavy, blond hair. He had the same muscular look to him, albeit he was a bit scrawny due to him being genetically a few years younger. Still, it was the same look, the same face.

The face of Anakin Skywalker.

No else, other than a few, knew about Vader’s secret. The masters on the Jedi Council had told him to use a partial face-mask hide his identity from everyone. The reasoning was as such; if anyone knew about the truth of Vader’s origins, there would be a major panic. People would be in a uproar over the Jedi having a clone among their numbers.

A clone. As distasteful as the word sounded, Vader couldn’t deny it. He was clone, nothing more. A mere copy, made from a Jedi pupil’s DNA, no doubt taken from some severed limb. Obi-Wan assured Vader otherwise, but the words did little to hide the truth lurking in the back of both their minds.

Slowly, Vader slid the mask into place, hiding portion of Anakin Skywalker. He did not need to worry about that. Now, he had to meet with someone important to him, and he would meet her as Vader, not Anakin’s copy.

Screw lightsabers, I’ll stick with regular swords. At least they won’t blow up in my face like this franchise has.

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Hello everyone. WS, again, with another PT idea. This time, this is a story (one of many I had planned) where the PT would take place into one story and was split up into 3 parts (each part per ‘episode’ of a trilogy). It was meant to be more of a flashback story, starting out with Vader reminiscing about the past, starting part 1 of the story. Afterwards, there would be two interludes; one for Bail Organa on Alderaan, who just heard the supposed death of Leia in an accident, and fears what happened in the past may happen again, leading into part 2 (the beginning of Anakin’s fall; and for Obi-Wan on Tatooine, who senses Luke and begins to wonder how everything ended up this way, making way for part 3 of the story (which tells Anakin’s conversion into Darth Vader).

I barely made it through the story. All I ever had were just ideas, and small bits and pieces of unfinished excerpts. The only thing I finished was the prologue with Vader, as seen down below. It’s not much and it is a few years old, but do you think it was a good idea to start like this? I’d like to know. Thanks.


The automated doors slid shut as Darth Vader strode into his personal chambers. His black boots strode on the equally ebon-colored floor with the long, dark cape dragging behind him. The Dark Lord wasted no time and went for the projection pod just a few steps away, ready to give his report to his master.

Stepping onto the circular frame, Lord Vader lowered himself on one knee as quickly as his prosthetic limbs would allow. The pod lit up against Vader’s black armored form and cape while the lights in the chamber dimmed around him. A moment later, and the blue image of the emperor shimmered into existence, like some ghost in Coruscant’s misty morning.

Vader merely stared down. Though the machines in his body regulated his pulse and breathing, he almost felt himself freeze upon feeling the emperor’s gaze on him.

“My master…” the greeting reverberated through Vader’s respirator with his heavy breathing.

“Report, Lord Vader,” the emperor began.

“The ship is on route, as planned. It won’t be long until we meet with the rest of the fleet.”

“And the plans?”

Ah, yes. The stolen Death Star plans. For the past week, Vader and the crew of his personal Star Destroyer had been in charge of searching for them. “They are still in the rebels’ hands, my master.”

The shriveled face writhed in annoyance, and Vader felt the venom through the Force. “I take it you have made a move to recapture them,” his master said in a wry tone.

“Yes, my master. Imperial intelligence has already caught word of the ship that escaped Toprawa. I will detain it and find the plans.”

“When you do, there is something I want you to do. Governor Tarkin is already on route with the Death Star. You’re to join him once you have retrieved the plans.”

Finally, Vader raised his metal helm to his master. “Master, the rebels are the first priority. They must be stamped out before they attack again.”

“The rebels will have to wait, for now. Tarkin has grown overconfident in his abilities, and I can’t afford anymore oversights. I need you to make sure Tarkin does not… overstep his bounds.” There was a slight hiss at the end, followed by a small pause while the accursed eyes burned into the Sith Lord’s black helm. “I sense you are not fully on board with the idea.”

Vader suppressed a tinge of discomfort. Slowly, he confessed. “I believe too much faith is put into the Death Star. The rebels have proved to be capable of stealing the plans. They may find a weakness.”

“I doubt it, Lord Vader. The Death Star will be the Empire’s ultimate weapon against the rebels.”

“Despite its power, it’s nothing compared to-”

“Compared to the Force, yes,” the croaked voice drawled out. “The Jedi said the same thing, of course. They thought the Force was the ultimate power, but it was the Force that brought their own end… or have you forgotten that?”

Vader’s hands resting on his knee clenched into fists. “I have not, master,” he answered monotonously.

“Then, there is nothing more to be said. Be sure to contact me when you arrive… And Vader. I expect you to tend to your duty.” The dry comment was the last thing before the transmission ended and the emperor returned from whence he came.

Vader rose to his full height in eerie silence. He treaded his boots off the pod and towards the meditation chamber, like some great Krayt Dragon. He entered the sphere and nestled himself right in the chair.

Finally, Vader let his anger boil. His fists clenched tightly on the armrests as the taunt echoed in his ears. Forgotten? The emperor dared to mock him, everything he had done, everything he had accomplished?!

With the Force, Lord Vader activated a switch, and the upper half of his chamber lowered to encapsulate him. His chair swirled along with his anger, and he began to question his master’s words.

Had Vader forgotten? No, he had not. Not fully. He remembered his choices, the mistakes he had, in his rise to power. They had been worth it. He was the Dark Lord of the Sith, serving the Empire like he served the Republic all those years ago… Of course, there were other choices he made, other paths. It had been another time… another life, and not everything had been clear.

“Many truths come from our own point of view,” he recalled Kenobi saying, much to his chagrin.

Once the jagged teeth closed with a slight hiss, Vader centered himself in the Force. What little of his normal bodily functions slowed to halt, leaving only the machines to work them. A mechanical appendage lowered from the ceiling and grabbed the round helmet, slowly undoing the locks on it.

Just as the helmet lifted, a haze came over Darth Vader’s vision. It blurred the white color of the chamber’s inner walls, and he began to see things he had not seen in a long time; the future, the past, old friends long gone…

Screw lightsabers, I’ll stick with regular swords. At least they won’t blow up in my face like this franchise has.

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Hello everyone. For some months now, I’ve been getting this strange idea about TFA. Considering its story and setting (Jedi dead, Empire on rise, etc.) and certain rumors and theories surrounding Episode 8 and 9 (e.g. how Rey may turn to the Dark Side), I’ve been wondering what if TFA was actually meant to be prequel rewrite (i.e. take the story and set it around 20 years before the OT). A dumb idea for sure, but I’ve started thinking about it and decided to see how it may turn out. Let me know what you think…

Episode 1: The Dark Times (21 BBY)

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

In the aftermath of the Clone War, the Republic has become An EMPIRE. The famed Jedi Knights of old have been scattered by the war, and few are left to stand against the tyranny of the Emperor’s armies.

Many worlds still remain loyal to the Republic’s ideals and join with Padme Amidala to stop the Empire’s expanse. She searches for as many Jedi as she can find to join her cause. One such Jedi is the famous Jedi General, OBI-WAN KENOBI.

Amidala has sent out dozens of spies and soldiers in her search. Unbeknownst to her, the Empire carefully follows behind, seeking out and eliminating threats to its rule…

Starting off with the female main character (let’s call her Lucia for now), who has the Force but was unnoticed by the Jedi and initial purge. She’s scavenging for parts from crashed Republic and Separatist ships on her home on the Moon of Iego, when a clone deserter of the Imperial army arrives on her doorsteps and wants to warn the Republic remnants about the Empire’s prototype weapon. This has her wrapped up in the growing conflict between the rising Empire and the few remnants of the Republic, as she and the deserter are chased by the Imperials, led by a powerful Dark Jedi/Inquisitor (would Khan be a good name?).

To their luck, they find Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, who keeps the Imperials away from them. Anakin takes them to the Republic remnants, led by Padme Amidala, who reveals they’ve been looking for Obi-Wan Kenobi, the famed Clone Wars general. While avoiding the Empire, Anakin senses Lucia’s power and begins to question her, delving into Lucia’s past as nothing more than a rat and allowing for Anakin to connect with her as he begins to teach her about the Force. Eventually, our heroes meet up with their allies, former Separatists who fought against the Republic in the Clone War, but these Separatists refuse to listen, leading to their eventual destruction at the hands of the Empire (via a prototype Death Star laser). It’s not helped when Lucia has been captured by the Dark Jedi Khan, who interrogates her for information of Amidala’s plans, forcing her to reveal the search for Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Anakin and the deserter goes to rescue her in an Imperial space station with Amidala’s forces. They save Lucia, and Anakin, who faces the Dark Jedi Khan in a lightsaber duel. Anakin is injured, no thanks to being caught in the crossfire between Imperial and Republic forces, but Lucia taps into the Force and Anakin’s teachings to keep Khan back, with some injury to herself. Only thanks to Obi-Wan, who arrives, our heroes retreat, and Obi-Wan, sensing Lucia’s power too, takes her to be trained on the crystal world of Ilum.

Episode 2: Shroud of the Dark Side (19 BBY)

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

Amidala continues the fight against the Empire, but her allies have dwindled. With so few, she barely holds up to stop the wave of evil.

However, hope is not lost. Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, with the help of former clone soldier [insert name], infiltrates Imperial space to find a way to disable the Empire’s TERRIBLE WEAPON.

On the secret Jedi world of ILUM, young Lucia learns the ways of the Force. Her mentor Kenobi has given her one more task to complete before they rejoin their friends…

As the Republic remnants continue to lose, the Empire spreads across the galaxy, wiping out whoever resists them, as seen with the world of Camaas. On Ilum, Lucia continues her training with Obi-Wan, finally obtaining her lightsaber crystal and constructing her saber, before she and Obi-Wan leave for normal space. On Alderaan, yhe two meet up with Anakin, the deserter, and Amidala’s Republic remnants, who have learned the emperor’s away from Coruscant. Wanting to disable the weapon and with Amidala’s forces losing, our reunited heroes, joined by troops and Jedi, infiltrate Coruscant and try to access the Imperial archives, so they could disable the Death Star laser. However, the Dark Jedi Khan learns of their presence and forces them into hiding, with Khan going after Obi-Wan.

Anakin and Lucia are separated from the rest during the mission, and the two form a small romance, revealing that Anakin and Padme were once married but separated after Padme has a miscarriage. During that time, Lucia is called by a dark power, drawing her to it. Anakin notices it and alerts Obi-Wan before following Lucia to underneath the old Jedi Temple (now the Imperial palace) and finds a Sith shrine. Here, Lucia learns of the Jedi and Sith’s interconnected past, as well as has a vision of a robed figure cutting down Jedi with a blue lightsaber, and Anakin, seeming suspicious, tells her they need to leave.

Khan, going after Obi-Wan, tries to convince the Jedi Master to join him and take down the Empire, when he senses Lucia and Anakin’s presence and following it, finding the shrine that only the emperor knew. Khan engages Lucia and Anakin, taunting the former about not being born in the Order and latter about one’s own loyalties. The two Jedi escape, and Khan destroys the shrine, blaming it on Anakin and Lucia. After learning where the crystals are being held, Obi-Wan and the deserter help Lucia escape, but Anakin is seemingly captured. Learning of the crystals’ location on Mustafar, Amidala orders a full-on attack, and Obi-Wan notices Anakin’s hesitation.

On Mustafar, Obi-Wan keeps Anakin away, while Lucia and the deserter successfully destroy the crystals. Obi-Wan prods Anakin of what is going, when Khan arrives, revealing Anakin is an Imperial agent. Lucia arrives on time to hear everything and is shocked, and when Anakin kills Padme by accident, Lucia attacks in her rage, leading to a duel with Obi-Wan & Lucia and Khan & Anakin. During the duel, Khan betrays Anakin, declaring himself the only true Jedi left in the galaxy, but is taken down by Lucia. The emperor arrives, taking away Anakin’s charred corpse while leaving Khan for dead on Mustafar. Our heroes, though victorious, are shocked and broken by the experience, even moreso for Lucia, who’s revealed to be pregnant with Anakin’s child.

Episode 3: The New Empire (18.5 BBY)

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

The Republic remnants have been wiped out. With no one to stop it, the Empire has more than half of the galaxy in its iron fist.

Lucia, one of the last few Jedi, is on the run from the Empire. Avoiding mercenaries looking for a quick credit and Imperial troops, she tries to contact her mentor, Obi-Wan Kenobi, to hide A SECRET PACKAGE.

However, neither she nor Obi-Wan knows of the one trailing behind them or of the dark figure rising through the Empire…

Over a year after the duel on Mustafar, Luke has already been born. Lucia takes her son to Nar Shaddaa, hiding in plain sight of bounty hunters and mercenaries (think Lone Wolf and Cub). She meets up with Obi-Wan, and the two talk, expositing what has happened, as Obi-Wan has found a place to hide (which he won’t tell). Together, the two plan to get off Nar Shaddaa, but are intercepted by the Dark Jedi Khan, mad with his scars, who is after Luke to rebuild the Jedi Order in his own vision. That’s when the Empire arrives, and Lucia and Obi-Wan escape, thanks to help of the clone deserter, just moments before Imperials find neither them or Khan in the system.

Reunited with their old ally, the two Jedi learns the clone deserter has been keeping a low profile as a bounty hunter. Together, the trio head to Devaron, where they meet some Devaronians who have rebelled against the Empire. That’s when Khan appears, attacking Lucia to take Luke as a new member of his own Jedi Order, just as the Empire strikes. During the attack, the armored figure of Darth Vader steps off the Imperial shuttle and slices through the rebels, who buy enough time for our heroes to escape.

Lucia, tired of all the running, gives Luke to Obi-Wan to hide before she goes to face Khan at his hideout on the world of Taris. Lucia faces Khan, who constantly states he’s the only true Jedi left in the galaxy, and seeing his pitiful state, Lucia feels some sympathy for him. However, the two fight, and Lucia is forced to kill him. The Empire arrives, and Lucia comes face-to-face with Darth Vader, who demands for Kenobi’s location. Lucia doesn’t budge, and Vader runs his saber through her before he leaves. The injured Lucia is left for dead until the deserter comes to rescue and take her to Bail Organa on Alderaan. There, the deserter and Lucia live on Alderaan, watching over Leia (who has been under Leia’s protection the entire time) until she eventually dies from her old wound.

Screw lightsabers, I’ll stick with regular swords. At least they won’t blow up in my face like this franchise has.

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 (Edited)

I’d prefer more creative names for the original characters. Aside from that, I think your ideas for a ST-turned-PT are very strong.

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DuracellEnergizer said:

I’d prefer more creative names for the original characters. Aside from that, I think your ideas for a ST-turned-PT are very strong.

Thanks for the feedback. Too bad I’m working on another PT rewrite. But who knows? Maybe I’ll drop that and work on this (considering how I drop PT ideas right and left, it’s not too surprising), and maybe I’ll make a better name for the original characters.

Screw lightsabers, I’ll stick with regular swords. At least they won’t blow up in my face like this franchise has.

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Alright, I understand that this doesn’t really count as a PT rewrite, more of a SW AU (of the PT, OT, and ST) as a whole, but I thought it would be interesting nonetheless.

This was inspired by the SW fanfiction “The Force Shall Free Us” by LuxLoser, who reverse the positions of the Jedi and Sith, having the Sith be the heroes and the Jedi be the villains. It was a fascinating take on the SW mythos, as well as decently-written, so I decided to give it a go with “Emotion, Yet Peace,” an AU which removes the dumb non-attachment rule for the Jedi, and more or less incorporates ideas from Legends canon into an otherwise Disney-fied universe. And teach trilogy would turn out as such:

THE PREQUELS - The Ancient Enemy (the Sith Empire of old returns to threaten the Republic); Treachery of the Republic (Palpatine reveals his Sith nature to the Jedi and allies with them to destroy the Sith Emperor, but he has Republic betray the Jedi, driving them from their home on Exis Station); and Forces of Destiny (where the trilogy ends with Anakin killing the Sith Emperor and accepting the Dark Side, which allows Palpatine to become the galaxy’s dictator)

THE ORIGINALS - Age of Order (Luke’s rung up in Obi-Wan’s rebellion against the Empire and trains with Kenobi’s pupil, Leia, while finding a way to disable the Death Star laser); The Prodigal Knight (where Luke skirts near the Dark Side in his search to defeat Vader); Revival of the Jedi (where the Empire’s defeated, Leia dies after giving birth to Ben Solo, and Luke escapes into the Unknown Regions with Vader and Mara Jade, leaving whatever Jedi are left to protect the galaxy).

THE SEQUELS - Evil from the Beyond (where Rey’s on the Ahch-To island instead of Jakuu, only to be discovered by the First Order and get caught up in a search for Darth Vader, leading to Rey facing her actions that caused the deaths of her parents, Luke and Mara); Fall of Dark Lords (in which, after finding Vader, Rey learns more about the Force, and Vader sacrifices himself to weaken Snoke); and The New Dawn (the Jedi reassemble to bring down Snoke once and for all, under Rey’s leadership, forming into a new kind of Jedi Order)

Of course, like with everything else I’ve done in the past, I gave up on it (mainly because the exact same ideas used here were being used in other stories), leaving the prologue of this discarded project. Still, I thought it might be something interesting to share. That being said, I hope you like it. Thanks.


“In the course of history, there are so few instances that can have a huge impact on the galaxy, for good or for evil. Many Jedi refer to these as Shatterpoints, mere moments in time with great effect."

"Many historians who support this theory often point to the events seen in the past millennia. Times when the entire galaxy rested on the fate of a few, or even the choices of one. Others against the notion have argued that it is the masses, the common people, and the mentality of the time that influenced these events…”

Madame Jocasta Nu, Jedi historian and caretaker of the Jedi Archives, took a second away from her datapad. She carefully tried to think on what she just wrote. Her thesis had been the work of many months of study into philosophies and historical records. It was meant to be an unbiased look at past history, but as she further read her essay, her opinion was slightly swayed by the proponents of the Shatterpoint theory. For as old as the human was, Jocasta could be as giddy as she was when she was a little girl, and she let it show, much to the chagrin of her more scholarly side.

Sighing, Jocasta stood up from the crate she had been sitting on for the past hour. As she walked down the cargo hold, she glanced down at her manuscript. “I suppose I’ll have to start anew… again,” Jocasta murmured, feeling the slight trepidation rise as she deleted the passage she had written.

Emotion, yet peace, she reminded herself. There were always other essays, and she was in no rush to finish her work.

Jocasta was about to start again when she stopped and noticed something peculiar. The cluttering sounds of worker droids echoed about while they did cleaned and assorted boxes. The lighting in the cargo bay was as dim as it ever was, yet Jocasta could clearly see what the shape of something that wasn’t a droid in between cargo crates.

Ever since the Jedi had taken up residence four thousand years ago, Exis Station had been a home to them, Jocasta included. As a historian and caretaker in the Jedi Archives, she knew Exis Station’s layout, and anyone inside, like the back of her hand. So much so that she garnered a reputation. “Nu knows,” her peers always said as a little joke.

It was for that reason Jocasta was surprised to see someone unfamiliar walking in the cargo bay. Said someone, feminine upon closer inspection, was dressed in brown rags, possibly from some desert planet. The woman kept wandering the cargo hold, her head going back and forth.

After a while, Jocasta took a step towards the woman. “Hello! May I help you?!” she called out.

In her surprise, the woman whirled around. Jocasta’s eyes darted to the small bundle in her arms before looking back up at the woman. She came closer, revealing a weary face, covered in sunburns and hair, and inexorably tired. Her eyes, a pair of dull greys, stared back Jocasta as a croaked and raspy sound left the woman’s throat. “Is… is this Exis Station?”

“Yes. Yes, it is,” replied Jocasta, who was confused and astonished by the question. “Are you looking for something?”

“Jedi,” she said, her eyes trailing down to the saber hilt on Jocasta’s belt. “A-are you one?”

“I am a Jedi, yes. Are you in need of some help, dear?”

The woman opened her mouth to answer, but the bundle in her arms started to move. A tiny hand moved up to touch the worn down face. Jocasta, eying the bundle, inquired, “Is that…?”

“… my son,” the woman said softly as she cooed at the baby. “He… he is special, you see… ”

Jocasta stared at the baby and was surprised that she had not felt his presence before. The Force was strong in him. Very strong, in fact, and he was barely a year old, which was quite impressive. Glancing back up, Jocasta knew the question and asked, “You wish for him to be a Jedi?” The woman nodded her head. “But why stay here? Don’t you have a home to go to?”

“Not anymore,” the woman said softly.

With that piece of information. Jocasta considered the proposition carefully. It was not everyday someone would come to give their child away to the Jedi. Most ordinary people kept their distance. Besides, the child’s real training would not start until he was in his teens. Guilt wrangled around Jocasta’s logical mind. If she denied this woman, she would be homeless, and the Jedi would lose a potentially powerful member.

Something about this weighed heavily on the old archivist. She had a choice to make, and she had a feeling this may have a great effect in the future. Whether it was a good or bad feeling, Jocasta didn’t know, but she felt the Force swirled around her answer.

Perhaps, they do exist, Jocasta thought on her thesis as she came to her decision.
“I believe the Jedi can accommodate.” With a kind glance, Jocasta asked, “If I may ask, what is your name, dear?”

The woman hesitated for a second, then she replied, “Shmi… Shmi Skywalker.”

Screw lightsabers, I’ll stick with regular swords. At least they won’t blow up in my face like this franchise has.

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Another scene for another PT idea I had. This of course was written a couple years, with the intent of it being a tribute to Christopher Lee (more or less). I don’t know how well it’s aged, but I hope it’s somewhat decent.


The doors slid open as a young Jedi rushed into the council chambers. “Master, the last of the ships has left!” she announced with baited breath.

No sooner did Sifo-Dyas hear the words, he saw another Imperial ship descended from Dantooine’s cloudy skies. “Are the remaining Jedi ready?” he asked.

“Yes, master,” said the Jedi–a Zabrak, Sifo-Dyas recalled. “All of us have taken positions all across the Enclave.”

Sifo-Dyas watched the Imperial ship join the four others beyond the Enclave’s grounds. “Tell everyone to push back the enemy as best as they can. If nothing else, fall back to the archives.”

The Jedi nodded before whirling back out. The doors slid shut a moment later and left Sifo-Dyas in the silence of the council chambers. He stood by the window, as he had for the past twenty standard minutes, watching the debacle far beyond.

The five Imperial ships rested in front of the Jedi Enclave like massive factories. The white shapes of Imperial troopers poured down the ramp, their black rifles jabbing at the air as each battalion formed up on the prairie grounds in front of the Enclave. Through the Force, Sifo-Dyas could feel their eagerness, their passion to take the corrupt and fanatic Jedi scum who opposed their emperor.

The sight brought sorrow to the Jedi Grandmaster’s heart. He suspected the Empire would find some way onto the Jedi’s doorstep. He just didn’t know it would be so literal. And there were so many of them…

“Thousands of armed soldiers against two hundred Jedi? Surely, the order has dealt with worst in the past?” a deep voice said in jest.

Sifo-Dyas wanted to smile, but he had no heart for it. “It’s not the numbers that worry me. It’s the possibility of defeat,” he told his visitor. “What are our chances?”

“With the Imperials starships and cannons, slim to none, I’m afraid. Then again, that’s always how it’s been.”

Sifo-Dyas caught a glimpse of a long cloak leaving the once-occupied council seat. He barely stopped himself from turning around. “Why are you here?” his voice slightly rose to a demand, only just. “I have been calling you, but you never showed up. So why now?”

“I have always been here. You only needed to open yourself, my friend.”

The response struck the Jedi’s heart. “I guess that’s true…” Sifo-Dyas mused before he looked back at the window. “At the end, do I really see.”

A strong hand gripped his shoulder. “You’ve done everything you can.”

Sifo-Dyas’ tired eyes went to the bearded face reflecting off the window. “But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I tried everything to stop this from happening. I didn’t know it would cause it… And now, the galaxy will suffer because of it.”

“For a time, yes.” The hand slipped off. “Others will fight the Empire, and they may win. When that happens, things will as they once were… Perhaps, the Jedi will return.”

Sifo-Dyas looked at his own reflection. “Are you certain of that?”

“No,” was the honest answer. “‘Always in motion is the future,’ as Master Yoda would say. But what do you feel, my friend?”

He wondered about that. What did he feel? No, what didn’t he feel? There was so much confusion, anger, doubt, and so many other emotions he could barely saw through them.
Closing his eyes, Sifo-Dyas sifted through them. The words came to him. What did he feel, truly? Many Jedi who already left would be hunted down, and the Empire would go on to subjugate other worlds. However, the Empire could not control everything and kill every Jedi. Some would survive, perhaps.

A sharp beep cut into his thoughts, and Sifo-Dyas reached for his commlink. “Yes?”

Another Jedi spoke, “Master, the main force is ready. We’re awaiting for your arrival.”

“I’ll be there.” Ending the call, Sifo-Dyas hung the commlink onto his belt and sighed. “It’s time for me to go… I hope we’ll meet again, old friend.”

There was nothing, just silence.

Sifo-Dyas smiled. The Jedi Master should have known he would be gone by now. It was just natural. Always coming in and leaving, like a shadow…

Silently, Sifo-Dyas turned around and left the empty council chambers.

Screw lightsabers, I’ll stick with regular swords. At least they won’t blow up in my face like this franchise has.

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Wannabe, we are on similar lines. I too had the thought while watching TFA of “What if THIS was the prequel trilogy instead?” Glad I was not the only one.

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AveKender said:

Wannabe, we are on similar lines. I too had the thought while watching TFA of “What if THIS was the prequel trilogy instead?” Glad I was not the only one.

Glad to know that, and I hope my ST-turned-PT was a good enough idea to intrigue you, if only a little.

Screw lightsabers, I’ll stick with regular swords. At least they won’t blow up in my face like this franchise has.

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About a few years back (dang, has it really been that long?), I came up with an idea to rewrite the PT to fit with the Star Wars: The Clone Wars cartoon (which you can see here: http://originaltrilogy.com/topic/Rewriting-Prequels-for-TCW/id/16915). Of course, I dropped the idea altogether, with only (you guessed it!) the prologue for each installment of this PT. The prologues are more or less a flashback to events that happened before the PT, and each one is somehow connected to the main plot of its its respective episode (meant to, anyway-it could have been laughably bad for all I know).

That being said, here are the prologues for the TCW Rewrites of Episodes 1, 2, and 3!


EPISODE 1

Tatooine, Ten years ago (32 BBY)…

Shmi panted as her feet clapped on sand and rock. Tatooine’s twin suns bore down on her from high above, its heat entering through the many tears in her rags. Her skin and hair perspired and stained the fabric with stink of sweat. Up ahead of Shmi was a small formation of a dune.

It was only a few steps away when Shmi let her sore legs give way onto the ground. She scooted under the dune’s shade and sat there, giving in to her tired body. Her feet swelled, her chest pounded, and her lungs wheezed. Shmi wondered if she could go on, let alone go any faster.

Through her pains, Shmi heard a small voice whisper, “Mom?”

A panting Shmi glanced to her boy clinging close to her. Though the rags covered his face, those beautiful blue eyes stared at her with fear. Shmi hugged her son and rested her chin atop of his scalp. She whispered back in a soothing tone, “Don’t worry. Mos Espa’s not fair away now. We’ll be there soon.”

While her son looked away, Shmi’s heart ached. It hurt to lie to her child. It hurt more that he saw the truth behind it. He always had that way with her, bless him.

He had to be given some hope, something to keep him calm. The port city of Mos Espa was still a long ways away, and running for so long and so fast in broad daylight left Shmi’s body taxed. Though she wasn’t as fast or strong as the others, she kept her son and herself safe. Now, all she wanted to do was rest.

When Shmi’s pains faded, her son’s small hands tightly gripped at her tunic. “Mom! It’s them!” she heard.

Shmi’s mind rang in alarm. Did they catch up so soon? She thought she lost their trail awhile back. “Wait here,” Shmi said and rose on her sore feet to leave the boy alone.

She peeked over the dune’s edge to see a large creature, a Bantha, slowly trail its wooly body on the desert. Its tusks stuck out threateningly, much like its riders with their desert robes, rifles and gaffi sticks.

Tusken Raiders, Shmi fearfully recognized. Tuskens, or more commonly known as Sand People, were the feared natives of Tatooine often hunted the ‘invaders’ of their planet, which happened to include the two humans hiding at the dune.

There was only one Tusken. Its bandaged-wrapped face and goggles turned right and left, but nowhere in the direction of Shmi, her son, and the dune they hid by.

She retracted back into the dune, back to her boy. “Mom, they’re…”

Shmi cut him off. “I know. We have to run now. Can you make it?” A nod answered her. “Good. We’re going!” She grabbed the little hand into hers, and began to run…

The ground at their feet exploded in a loud pop of sand particles, stopping mother and son in their tracks. Surprise shortly flashed then Shmi went in the other direction. “This way!” she exclaimed.

Again, Shmi stopped short of a shot that would have blown off her foot. She looked around, freezing at the sight of a Bantha rising atop another dune that was in the distance. Though some meters away, Shmi saw more Sand People atop; one taking the reins and the other aimed it rifle at the two humans.

Shmi’s fearful gaze turned slightly from the second Bantha. The first one from before crawled forth from beyond the dune’s edge. “Stay close!” was the first thing Shmi said.

She felt her son’s hands trembled in hers. She tried to do everything to keep her own arms from trembling and failed when the two Bantha crawled closer and closer to the dune’s shadow. The gunners on each kept their goggles intently on the two humans under it, and their rifles rose to take aim on their prey. Shmi could only hug her son close to her body, somehow to protect him. Staring at the barrels with watery eyes, Shmi’s eyes watered, and a couple tears wetted her dusty cheeks.

This was it. There was no way out. She would die in the middle of nowhere. And yet, she was frightened for her son. If he survived by some miracle, he would be all alone with no one to care for him. No friends. No mother. ‘I’m sorry, Ani,’ Shmi thought with regret and waited for the shot to fire.

It never did. The rifle had tilted upwards, as if it had a will of its own, and fired, sending the projectile and powder into the air.

The Tusken rifleman howled in shock, and the other two looked at each other for answers. Their bantha snorted and huffed from their large nostrils, jittering rather nervously. Shmi kept her eyes on the Tuskens carefully whilst they talked in their unintelligible language. The one holding its now-ruined rifle seemed angry, uttering a jumble of irritated grunts and growls. Its calmer comrades sounded more urgent, and even fearful.

Their glances fell onto the humans, and the fear returned to Shmi. Were they making up their minds, or were they going to finish what they started? Shmi did not know, and she found the wait was scarier than staring down the barrel.

Then, the Tuskens let out another howl, and to Shmi’s surprise, the banthas turned around. They were leaving! The three of them rode off, away from the dune and back from whence they came.
It was not until the Tuskens were a haze that Shmi turned her eyes downward. Her son, still holding on tight, shivered frightfully so much she had stroke his head. “Ani?” she said to him.

‘Ani,’ her little Ani, stopped shivering and those blue eyes were back on her. “Are they…” his voice squeaked before it trailed off.

“They’re gone, Ani,” Shmi said soothingly. “We’re safe now.”
Why though? The Tuskens were supposed to be ruthless killers with no fear, so what could have scared them to the point that they would give up their hunt?

A new thought soon came to her. Actually, it was not a thought but a voice that came out of nowhere. “Are you two alright?”

As warm and gentle as it was, the question nearly made Shmi jump. She whirled around and saw a figure standing at the edge of the dune. A long robe, brown and beige in color, covered the body of the man–she assumed it was so from the voice–and a hood protecting him from the scorching heat.

Shmi held onto her child protectively and warily eyed the stranger. “Who are you?” she questioned, despite her weariness.
A hand, human in nature, stuck out from a huge sleeve. “It’s alright,” the stranger assured, “I don’t mean you any harm. I’m here to help.”

The voice brought new Shmi’s suspicions. It was too formal, and the accent gave a slight deep roll of the r’s. At the same time, there was something to it. A sense of calm and honesty Shmi had not heard in many years.

The stranger slowly stepped over to Shmi and her boy, both of who watched the newcomer. The robes had no stain or a speck of sand on them. They were too clean to belong to a native of Tatooine. There was something off, however. Nothing menacing to be sure, but it boggled Shmi’s mind to the point she gazed up and down the stranger to find anything else.

That was when she saw it, hanging from a brown belt. It was a long cylinder, elegant in its design that clashed with the technological material that comprised it. Shmi recognized it immediately. She remembered the many stories she heard from the visiting spacers and smugglers, stories of people with strange weapons helping others in need, no matter who those people were.

Jedi.

Now, Shmi raised her head back up, and the stranger stood a few feet from her. Hidden from the sun’s glare, Shmi saw a fair face under the hood. The blue eyes gave a kindle of kindness in them, and the brown beard surrounded a small smile.

“Y-you’re…” Shmi’s voice left her throat, but she could not finish the sentence.

Her mind, on the other hand, had brought a decent picture of what happened.

The man, the Jedi, did not nod or say anything to answer that. Instead, he told her, “I am Qui-Gon Jinn. What’s your name?”

This time, Shmi did not hesitate to answer. “I’m Shmi Skywalker. This is my son,” she replied.

The Jedi’s eyes, then went from her, to her boy. She glanced down to him, too. In her shock, she had almost forgotten about him. ‘Ani’ was hiding behind her legs, still shivering a little. “It’s okay, Ani. We’re safe now,” she whispered to her son, this time with no lie.

“Where are you heading?”

Again, Shmi glanced back up to the Jedi, Qui-Gon, whose gaze was back on her. “Mos Espa,” she answered. “That’s where my master lives.”

“Your ‘master?’” The tone was confused, as was the Jedi’s eyes. They became stiff when the realization sunk in. “You two are slaves.”

A nod from Shmi confirmed as much. For a brief moment, there was only silence, and in that, Shmi swore the Jedi remained frozen stiff. At last, he spoke, more softly and warmly, “And your master sent you out here? All alone?”

“No, I have…” Shmi stopped and swallowed, “… I had a guard with me. He was with me while I was scavenging for parts when… when the Sand People a-attacked…”

She had to stop herself from saying more. Her voice had cracked, and the memories from the last hour poured in. The images of the charging Tuskens and their guard staying behind to buy her and her son time to escape. The brave man had told them to run and head before he met the Tuskens’ charge.

“Don’t worry,” the Jedi assured. “I have a transport nearby. I can take you back safely.”

“T-thank you,” Shmi managed to say before she gave a gentle tug on her son’s hand. “Come on, Ani.”

Her little ‘Ani’ did not move. He stood close to his mother’s leg, refusing even budge a little. Shmi, trying to be patient, placed a hand on his head and caressed it, speaking in the soft tone to sooth her boy. “It’s alright. He’s helping us to get back home,” she told him. “Trust him, Anakin.”

After a while of waiting and thinking, Anakin came from behind his mother’s side. Shmi gave a smile at him then nodded her head at the Jedi. Her new protector turned around, leading the pair to his transport. Anakin trod alongside his mother, still a little cautious of the newcomer. As for Shmi, whose weariness and state of near-fatigue was a memory, could not have been happier.

The danger had passed, and they were safe. That was all that mattered to her.


EPISODE 2

Coruscant, Fourteen years ago (33 BBY)…

Master Dooku kept his arms tucked under his Jedi cloak as he strolled down the long halls of the Jedi Temple. His steps, once loud stomps to announce his entrance, were now light taps against the red carpet, and he bore a troubled brow. Dooku gazed around, hoping to ignore his troubles.

Fellow Jedi walked to and from the many corridors, attending to their daily duties. In one room, a Jedi Master gave a lecture on the history of the Republic; in another, a group of Padawans meditated to center themselves in the Force; and laughter came from another as Younglings played with toys under the supervision of a Jedi Knight. The life in the Jedi Temple was filled with life and energy that many would find it peaceful.

Once, Dooku saw that, but not now. Where others saw peace and serenity, he saw something else; weakness, illusions, zealots who served a decadent government made up of fools. Such ideas were dangerous, but Dooku could not stop such them.

Something stirred in his mind. A small echo as he remembered something he heard from Dathomir:

“The Dark Side offers many paths of power. The Jedi know this, yet do not use it. Why? Because they believe themselves to already be powerful. They believe they serve the Republic for the ‘greater good.’ But the Republic continues to debate and argue over insignificant issues, and with no progress. The Jedi are nothing more than the Senate’s puppets and they enjoy the power they have.”

A small shiver ran down Dooku’s spine. There was a small part of him that hated it, but the rest knew his doubts were right. It was the reason Dooku did not tell the Council, and he wondered if staying in the order was illogical.

Dooku came out of his thoughts when he noticed another Jedi. The Jedi, a man with dark pony tail, wore dark Jedi tunic similar to Dooku’s own uniform. He stood tall and proud with his arms clasped behind his back, but the light from Coruscant’s setting sun showed a troubled look.

As he walked up to the Jedi, Dooku smiled. “Ah, Master Sifo-Dyas. It’s good to see you.”

“Master Dooku. It’s good to see you, too,” Sifo-Dyas returned, but his smile was a pained one, which Dooku noticed.

“Is everything alright, old friend?”

Sifo-Dyas’s smile faded as he looked back to the sunset. His voice was unusually soft when he spoke. “No… no, it’s not. I just came from a meeting with the Jedi Council.”

Dooku frowned in exasperation and leaned a little against the window sill. “What was it this time? Has a trade agreement gone sour, or perhaps Chancellor Valorum has requested us to guard for the Hutts again?” he inquired in his “grandiose” fashion.

Sifo-Dyas didn’t laugh, despite his friend’s attempt at humor. “I’m afraid it’s more serious than that,” he said sadly. “I… I’ve been removed from the Council.”

Dooku’s eyes widen. “What? Why?”

“Recently, I’ve been calling for… certain measures,” Sifo-Dyas explained, somewhat hesitantly, “Measures the Council believe to be extreme.”

“You mean raising an army,” said Dooku. It was no secret; almost every Jedi Master outside of the Council knew about it. Dooku personally thought it the idea was like giving a blaster to a child.

“Yes,” Sifo-Dyas said. “The council may think my proposal is ludicrous, but I believe it’s necessary.”

“For what? Sifo-Dyas, what happened?”

Sifo-Dyas turned away, and Dooku concern grew when he heard his friend’s tone turned dark. “I recently had a vision. I told the council and…”

“… and they didn’t listen,” he finished, not surprised.

Sifo-Dyas gave his friend a soft, sad smile. “I can’t really blame them. The future always is in motion, as Yoda would say.” The smile turned into a frown. “But I fear dark times are coming for the galaxy.”

For many moments, Dooku stared at Sifo-Dyas, feeling the fear and horror lingering in his friend’s mind. It took his courage for him to speak. “What did you see?”

The lines creased Sifo-Dyas’ face. “A conflict. One too terrible to imagine…”

As Sifo-Dyas gave every detail he could recall, Dooku eyes widen with every spoken word. It wasn’t unheard for a Jedi to have visions of the future, and most were harmless to the galaxy. Even the worst only affected the individual themselves. But this… this was something beyond anything Dooku could ever dream of.

Once Sifo-Dyas finished, Dooku managed to ask, “Do you know how soon this is?”

“I don’t know for sure. It may be years, decades perhaps, but I know it will in our lifetime, and I can’t do anything to stop it.”

Dooku considered it for a moment. Then, he said quietly, “Actually, you can. The rest of the galaxy doesn’t know about you not being on the Council. You can use your old title to request for an army, which I will provide.”

“And how will you get this army?” Sifo-Dyas humored Dooku.

“I have more than enough money in my family household on Serenno. I need to only ask, and they will give it to me.”
“What about the Council? You know they won’t approve.”

“The Council doesn’t need to know.”

Now, it was Sifo-Dyas’ turn to be shocked. “Go behind the Council’s back? Dooku, that’s extreme, even for you!”

“Like you said, dark times are coming, and we must be prepared to face them, my friend,” Dooku replied. “My old student Qui-Gon would say the Force has given us an opportunity. I say we must take it.”

Sifo-Dyas thought about it. “This is a dangerous path, old friend…” he said with uncertainty, “but if it will help secure the future, then I will do it.”

Dooku, noticing a passing duo of Padawans, stepped closer. “We’ll talk about this another time. Tell no one about this,” he whispered to Sifo-Dyas. With that, Dooku left his friend by the window without looking back.

He dared not after what he just heard. It boggled Dooku that the Council even ignored such a vision. Sure, visions could be misinterpreted but Sifo-Dyas had the most clarity in the entire Jedi Order, and Sifo-Dyas was surer than ever of what he saw. But why did Dooku believe Sifo-Dyas in the first place?

The answer was obvious: His doubts of the Council, of the Jedi Order, were fully realized. His mind reeled at his anger that he did not notice anything, not even his ‘fellow’ Jedi passing him. Not until he reached the entrance of the Jedi Temple.

When he did, Dooku’s feet stopped as did his thoughts. He stood there like the statues of great Jedi lined outside. Through the Force, he felt something. A presence he had not felt since…
Dooku walked down the steps, careful to look as calm as possible and avoid notice from the Temple guards stationed outside. To Dooku’s fortune, the guards remain silent and sure as ever while he continued away from the giant ziggurat until he reached one of the large statues at the edge of the Temple grounds. There, Dooku thought his aging eyes were deceiving him.

They weren’t, for a man, dressed in a black robe and hood, greeted the Jedi Master with a warm smile. “Ah, Master Dooku. I have been wondering where you were.”

Dooku quickly approached the man, his anger masking the shock. “Sidious, what are you doing here? If I sensed you, it won’t be long before the Jedi do!”

Neither Sidious’ expression nor tone changed. “You’ve only sense me because I let you. There’s no need to worry,” he waved it away and began walking, “but enough of that. Have you thought about my proposal?”

Dooku glanced around for a moment. They were on the edges of the Temple, where there was barely anyone. No one would be watching, and it’s as Sidious said, only he noticed. “I have,” Dooku trailed as he joined his accomplice. “I’ve been thinking on it for some time… and I believe that you are right.”

Sidious was silent for a moment. “Interesting… but I’m curious, why the sudden change of heart?” There was a glint under the shadowed gaze. “Would it have something to do with Sifo-Dyas’ vision?”

Dooku was surprised but recomposed himself. “Yes, he did. He told me he foresaw a terrible conflict to me.”

“As he did to me,” Sidious nodded. “He also mentioned he wanted to raise an army for the Republic. Has he talked to the council?”

“He has,” Dooku said indignantly. “They’ve removed him from the council. But I have a plan.”

“The Jedi won’t approve of it. They won’t support any action without approval from the Senate,” Sidious said in his usual tone, which meant he was toying with him.

Dooku, annoyed at the words and patronizing tone behind it, tried not to snarl. “I’ve found that the Jedi way to be insufferable. The corruption in the Senate has already led to an uprising on Thyferra and Yinchorrr. It won’t be long before more worlds will rise up again.”

“And you believe that the Jedi’s need to serve the Republic will lead to this?”

“It’s as you said, the Jedi have become the Senate’s puppets.” Dooku paused, and admitted, “With all that I have learned, I’m not sure if I can stay here any longer, let alone follow the Jedi Code.”

“Well, there is another path. There are other mysteries of the Force that the Jedi do not know of. I can teach them to you.”

Dooku’s eyes narrowed. “You speak of the Dark Side. What would make believe I wouldn’t turn you over to the Jedi?”

Sidious simply smiled. “If you truly believed that, you would have already told the council about our encounter on Dathomir.”

Despite himself, Dooku agreed with Sidious. He already confessed his doubts of the Jedi and he just conversed about coercion with him. Yet, this person, this Lord of the Sith, was willing to share his knowledge… knowledge that could help Dooku in his endeavor.

Dooku inwardly sighed and with a heavy heart, he bowed his head. “I accept your teachings. I am willing to learn the secrets of the Dark Side.”

“Excellent!” Sidious clapped his hands together. “I must leave you now. However, I shall see you again, very soon. We will need to work quickly if we’re to succeed.”

Dooku nodded and said the words he thought he would never say: “I understand… my master.”


EPISODE 3

Naboo, Twelve Years Before the Invasion of Naboo (44 BBY)…

Darth Plagueis hobbled out to the balcony, breathing heavy breaths through his respirator masks. He stopped short of the perch and leaned against his large staff to enjoy the light of Naboo’s moons reflecting in the rippling lake. Out of the entire estate and its servant droids running about, the balcony was the only place where Plagueis could think in solitude, aside from his own laboratory.

His eyes trailed down the lake to other side, where the great lights of Theed shone like the stars above it. Plagueis could sense them; the commoners toiling through the night to work as the nobles rested in their beds. Their hopes, their dreams, were almost at him… and he pushed them away from his own mind.

Pathetic creatures, Plagueis thought with disdain. They believed themselves to live harmony and peace. They believed themselves to be safe, but all they had was nothing more than a ruse.

A soft hum turned Plagueis’ attention to a slug-beetle buzzing about. His eyes fixated on it for a moment before he held out a skeletal hand–too long to be a human’s, and he stretched out, sensing the lines of the Force in the beetle. His bone-like fingers moved on the lines, as if touching the silks strings on a tapestry. Though they were thin, the Force swirled in its tiny body, giving the beetle life it needed to buzz around, happily ignorant of the world around it.

Closing his hand, Plagueis ripped those lines to shreds.

The beetle dropped onto the perch in front of Plagueis. Within minutes, the bright blue color dulled, the wide wings corroded, and the legs bent in directions not natural to its design. The beetle clicked its mandible in panic, buzzing while it lied on its side, hopeless to do anything until it stopped moving.

The lines creased Plagueis’ elongated head when he studied the husk. Five seconds, he counted. Five seconds for the insect to wither and die. It was slower than he calculated.

Plagueis had experimented on many creatures in the past. There was always the satisfaction, the curiosity, and the wonder of studying the process of life. Plagueis felt none of that, now. His powers waned long ago, taking away his joy of discovering the Force’s mysteries. But the Dark Side always offered more paths to power. Perhaps, more studying would allow him to regain what he lost…

A presence in the Force pushed Plagueis’ thoughts away and he turned to a figure strolling towards him, black robe covering him from head to toe. Under the hood was a human face Plagueis recognized immediately.

“Welcome, Sidious," he greeted, his voice rasping through his respirator.

“Master,” Sidious returned, his shadowed gaze studying him. “I see your power has not waned since we’ve last spoken.”

“I’m afraid it is not enough,” Plagueis muttered before waving his thin and almost skeletal hand, “but enough of that. We have more important things to discuss. What news in the Senate?”

Sidious came beside his master, standing half a meter to the tall Muun. “There is much unrest among the Outer Rim. The Hutts crime family is gaining more control with their underground spice trade. The Senate is currently trying to make a deal with them.”

“No doubt they’ll send Jedi,” Plagueis snorted. “The fools send more fools to do their work.”

“But it presents an opportunity,” his apprentice stated calmly. “I’m trying to become the broker to the Hutts. If all goes well, I shall receive a permanent residence on Coruscant and I will be closer to the Senate than ever before.”

The Muun stared down at Sidious. “I see you continue to toil in politics, Lord Sidious,” he spoke evenly.

“Just as much as you continue with your experiments, master,” Sidious returned, glancing down at the dead beetle.

The verbal jab struck, but Plagueis did not show it. “You’re pursuit of power is admirable,” he began as he turned to the calm waters. “You’ve managed to hide your presence from the Jedi, but make yourself too well-known, and you will be hunted by them.”

“I will take your advice with great care, master.”

“I know you will,” Plagueis nodded, looking back at him. “However, my apprentice, we can’t afford to make any risks. That is why you will resign from office after you’re done with you deal.”

Plagueis sensed Sidious’ surprise through the Force. There was no indication on his face as Sidious kept calm as usual. “Master, we can’t hide forever.”

“I have told you this before. Politics is a dangerous game, one the Sith have no time to play with,” Plagueis warned. “Our mission is to grow strong in the Dark Side and wait for the right moment to strike. Interacting now will only reveal us to the Jedi.”

Sidious was silent then answered, “… I understand, master.”

A lie, Plagueis immediately noted. No doubt, Sidious would try to delve more into the workings of the Republic. He learned the Sith techniques of hiding his presence from even the most powerful of Jedi, but Plagueis’ caution warned not only the Jedi would try to look into his apprentice’s life.

Sidious was trying to make his move. Plagueis was not sure whether it was because Sidious knew of his fading powers or if his apprentice was merely trying to grab more power. Plagueis was never sure with his apprentice. What he did know was that his apprentice had great ambition.

Too much for one Sith Lord to have, Plagueis thought, slightly chastising himself. He should have tempered his student’s ambition long ago…

Gripping his staff, Plagueis began for the estate. “I shall retire for the night. My droid will escort you out when you’re ready to leave." Upon reaching the door, Plagueis turned to add, "And remember, Darth Sidious. There is still much for you to learn. There are many secrets of the Dark Side that have eluded even the Sith. One day, you will realize the Sith must remain in the shadows if we are to grow strong.”

With that said, Plagueis left the balcony. He strolled down the long corridor, passing the many doors that each led to a laboratory with a specific experiment inside. Plagueis paid no mind to them and entered the bedchamber’s entrance on the far side.

The Muun lied in his bed, preparing himself for the next day to come. It had been a long day in his laboratory and Plagueis found himself needing rest recently. The transpirator’s loud clicks slowly deafened as sleep approached and took Plagueis from the world of the living.

Just before Plagueis went over the threshold of sleep, he felt something. There was a presence in the Dark Side, more powerful than Plagueis himself.

Suddenly, pain jolted the Muun into consciousness. Plagueis screamed as his body writhed in the intense heat and pain swarming over him. The snapping and hissing of electricity filled the air along with a burning smell of flesh.

The torture quickly ceased and Plagueis’ limbs sprawled all over the bed. The transpirator, once functioning at full capacity, stopped completely. Plagueis’ lungs demanded for air that now entered through narrow paths and he barely kept himself alive with the Dark Side.

Opening his eyes, Plagueis saw his apprentice standing over him. The lines creased Sidious’ face and his eyes brightened at the Muun’s torment.

Plagueis’ eyes widen as he realized what happened; Sidious had betrayed him. He ignored the Sith tradition of frontal combat and went about on his way. All Plagueis could do was stare at Sidious, his eyes pleading for mercy from his apprentice.

Sidious simply snarled. “I’m afraid our alliance is at an end. There is nothing more you can teach me, Plagueis, thus leaving you as a hindrance,” he said with contempt. “I have plans for the galaxy, and nothing will stop me from making them come to fruition… not even you.”

Sidious raised a crackling hand once again, and in a flash of blue lightning, Darth Plagueis knew no more.

Screw lightsabers, I’ll stick with regular swords. At least they won’t blow up in my face like this franchise has.

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Here’s my Altered character info.

Anakin Skywalker - Jedi Knight/Lieutenant, Early Thirties, Married.

Obi-Wan Kenobi - Jedi Master/General, Early Forties, Long Hair/Goatee.

Flora Organa - Princess/Senator, Early Thirties, Married.

Sheev Sidious - President/Senator, Mid Sixties, Bald.

Count Grievous - Sith Leader/Dark Lord, Late Forties, Married and looks like Old Sam Bell from Mute.

“Get over violence, madness and death? What else is there?”

Also known as Mr. Liquid Jungle.

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Maybe instead of the Jedi having a temple on Coruscant and thinking that the Sith are extinct, the Jedi and Sith are both secretive but aware of each other’s existence. The average person isn’t aware of either order’s existence, and the orders aren’t aware of the identities of the other’s members. This would explain things like Motti and Han not believing in The Force, Tarkin knowing that Vader was Obi-Wan’s apprentice but not seeming to know that Vader is Anakin, etc.

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Some years back, I had this strange idea where Galactic Empire formed 100 years before the start my episode 1. In that galaxy, the Old Republic fought in the Clone Wars and was transformed into the Empire while the Jedi are scattered but not dead. Young Anakin would have a quick encounter with Yoda (whom Anakin wouldn’t recognize), who would direct Anakin to free a man entrapped in carbonite. That man would be Obi-Wan Kenobi, a Jedi Knight from when the Old Republic fought in the Clone Wars.

It’s not much, and it was just a passing thought I quickly gave up on, with only one scene I ever wrote related to the idea which showed a brief aftermath of Obi-Wan’s rescue. Still, I thought there might be something interesting to show…


“How did you find me, exactly?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Some old troll found me,” Anakin replied while flipping a couple of switches. “He told me to find you. Didn’t give me his name.”

“What did this ‘troll’ look like?”

“Short, green, pointed ears. Had a stick with ‘im. Didn’t get his name.”

Anakin thought he saw Obi-Wan’s eyes in the reflection of the viewport’s window. “So, he’s still around…” he murmured with a nostalgic smile.

Anakin perked his head up. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” the Jedi assured, clipping his lightsaber to his belt. “Come, we have work to do.”

Screw lightsabers, I’ll stick with regular swords. At least they won’t blow up in my face like this franchise has.

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^ I LOVE IT!!!

“Get over violence, madness and death? What else is there?”

Also known as Mr. Liquid Jungle.

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What if “Padme” (name change needed) was the daughter of Palpatine. Anakin purposefully befriends the chancellor to impress his gf’s dad, who he originally finds old and aristocratic. Palpatine is initially annoyed by this (Padme doesn’t know he is a Sith) but when he sees Anakin’s powers decides to keep him around. When the Republic is reformed Anakin chooses Palpatine over Padme and the Jedi, for political reasons (doing a complete 180)

Maul- A Star Wars Story

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Good Idea 😃

“Get over violence, madness and death? What else is there?”

Also known as Mr. Liquid Jungle.

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Droids are invented a few decades before the prequels, and automation causes mass unemployment. The capitalists who own the working droids all shut themselves off from the rest of the galaxy, forming the Empire. The Rebellion’s ideology is Fully Automated Luxury Communism.

Reading R + L ≠ J theories