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Star Wars: A Lost Hope (The Final Episode in DuracellEnergizer's New PT Re-Write) *CANCELLED*


With KOTE revised to my satisfaction, I’m now going to go ahead and start developing my screenplay for the final episode in my re-write, A Lost Hope.

I haven’t started on the screenplay yet (though I do have the opening crawl typed out and a good idea for the opening scene thought up) but here’s the basic plot in a nutshell:

Sixteen years have passed since the events of KOTE. The Clone Wars are long over and the Empire is at peace – at peace and in a great economic depression; the only ones profiting during this time are the criminal syndicates and the corrupt senators in their pockets.

Guided by the spirits of the long-departed Lords of the Sith, Anakin has spent these last several years rebuilding the Sith Brotherhood. Establishing a base of operations on the rainy planet of Vjun, Anakin has relentlessly searched the Known Galaxy for followers and relics of the Old Sith – the latter of which he has gathered from ancient Sith worlds and battlegrounds or stolen from museums, private collections, and heavily fortified fortresses.

Obi-Wan, now an honourary general of the Alderaanian Army, has spent just as many years pursing Anakin. So relentless has he been in his pursuit that it has cost him his family; Siri has divorced him and he is estranged from his adoptive son, Darth.

Under advisement from Siri to heal the rift between them, Obi-Wan and Darth have reluctantly agreed to form a temporary master-apprentice relationship. While living and working together, father and son cross paths with the Lord of the Sith and his followers. Captured, the two Jedi are taken to Bast Castle on Vjun, where they are imprisoned. They eventually escape, but not before Darth has been tempted by Anakin with the powers of the Sith.

There’s more to the plot, but to give too much away would be to spoil the story.


TITLE CARD: A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away….

A vast sea of stars serves as the main backdrop for the main title, followed by a roll up, which crawls up into infinity.



The Clone Wars are over. After a half-century of warfare, the siege guns lie quiet. Peace has come to the Galactic Empire. Yet the peace has come with a heavy price. The Empire has fallen into deep economic depression.

With the loss of profits and jobs, criminal syndicates have risen to power. The Imperial Senate — filled with corrupt delegates in the pockets of the gangsters — has been rendered ineffectual. The Jedi Knights, now few in number, do their best to mitigate the widespread strife, all to little avail.

Yet even in this dark age, a flame of hope burns. Senator Dantius Palpatine of Nabu has been appointed Supreme Chancellor of the Imperial Senate. Backed by the honourable senators still remaining, Palpatine has promised to enact a New Order which will see the Senate purged of corruption and the Empire ushered into a renaissance….


To the terrestrial planet Taravedra.

A small fleet of ships is on an approach vector for the planet. The fleet consists of the CR60 Corvette Slipstream, a DP20 frigate, a GAT-12 Skipray Blastboat, a heavily modified T-6 shuttle, a restored Sith escort gunship, and an assorted mix of starfighters.


Deep within a mountain range stands the Gray Fortress. Carved directly from the rock of a mountain summit, it’s every bit as gray as its name suggests. This is the stronghold of the Gray Knights of Taravedra, an ancient sect of Jedi who have called this world home since the days of the Great Sith Purge.


Within the reliquary rests a stasis casket. Built by the ancient Sith, it is a technological sarcophagus designed to keep those sealed within its confines alive in perpetuity. Surrounding the casket are TWENTY GRAY ASCETICS, a subclass of Gray Knights. Descendants of Jedi altered through Force alchemy, the bald Gray Ascetics have no eyes or ears and no senses of taste, smell, or touch, leaving them completely reliant on the Force to experience the universe outside themselves. From the shoulders down they wear suits of dull gray plate armour, the hilts of long-handle lightsabers hanging from their belts.


Inside the air traffic control tower, NINE JEDI AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLERS man their stations, monitoring their equipment for any sign of inbound traffic. Unlike the Ascetics, these Jedi are baseline Humans, dressed in the gray uniforms of standard Gray Knights.

TRAFFIC CONTROLLER #1: (reading monitors) Master!

The tower commander sidles up beside his subordinate.

TRAFFIC CONTROLLER #1: Seventeen starships incoming, Master — twenty-six klicks and closing.

TOWER COMMANDER: Opening hailing frequencies.

Hailing frequencies are opened.

TOWER COMMANDER: Inbound vessels, this is Gray Fortress air traffic control. State your identity and business here.

The commander takes a moment to receive a response. None follow.

TOWER COMMANDER: Inbound vessels, by your silence I am to take it you’re not here on friendly terms? Respond.

They still refuse to comply.

TOWER COMMANDER: Your access to our landing strip has been denied. Turn back and return whence you came — I repeat, turn back immediately. Refuse to comply and we will consider you aggressors and act accordingly. This is your only warning.

TRAFFIC CONTROLLER #1: They’re still coming.


As the air raid sirens begin WAILING, the Jedi fighter pilots of Gray Squadron scamper out to their Z-95 Headhunters. Climbing in their starfighters, they fire them up and take off for open air.


The enemy ships soar towards the Gray Fortress, the Slipstream taking point. Coming to meet them is Gray Squadron.


GRAY LEADER: I’m on the leader. Gray Two and Three, cover me.


As Gray Leader zeroes in on the Slipstream, opening fire with his blaster cannons, the white plasma bolts pass straight through the Corvette, then his Headhunter itself passes through the Slipstream. As the other Headhunters try intercepting the other enemy ships, it becomes clear they’re all illusory.


GRAY FOUR: By the Force —‽


The enemy vessels discorporate, breaking up like clouds, leaving the Jedi starfighters in the air alone.


GRAY EIGHT: Some kind of trick!


Meanwhile back at Gray Fortress, the real Slipstream and entourage comes swooping down out of the sky from another direction, catching the gunners within the turbolaser turrets off guard. Before most of the gunners can swivel into position to fire upon the incoming craft, the enemy vessels attack with violet turbolaser beams, plasma bolts, and proton bombs, obliterating the turbolaser embankments.


As their citadel trembles around them, Gray Knights scurry to and fro.


Returning to the fortress, Gray Squadron finally intercepts the unknown attackers. The sky comes alive with violet-and-white fireworks as the ships zip around, firing weapons.


Within the Slipstream’s dark meditation chamber, LORD BIBHRAMA sits cross-legged atop a shallow circular platform. He is a rather peculiar-looking creature, with large bat-like ears, oversized milky eyes, and a small nose situated over a large white mustache and long white beard. Over his slender shoulders he wears a large green cloak; on his wrists jewelled gauntlets; upon his paw-like left hand a Sith amulet.

CHANTING in low tones, closing his eyes, Bibhrama raises his hands in the air. The jewel on the back of his Sith amulet begins resonating with a violet glow.


The pilots of Gray Squadron suddenly lose the ability to coordinate against the enemy starcraft. This costs them their defense of Gray Fortress, their ships, and their lives.


In the Gray Fortress’ entrance hall, a PLATOON OF GRAY KNIGHTS have assembled. Their gray uniforms are similar in style to those worn by the Jedi in the control tower, albeit reinforced with light armour. The platoon commander, MASTER KAOLIN DARGUUN, stands at the head of the unit, black eyes focused on the large metal blast door which stands between them and the enemy outside.


The Slipstream, DP20, Skipray Blastboat, T-6 shuttle, and Sith gunship touch down. Boarding ramps opening on the DP20 and gunship, they disgorge DOZENS UPON DOZENS OF SITH COMMANDOS. The commandos — outfitted in suits of charcoal light armour and red-lensed filtration masks, armed with force pikes — are a foreboding sight to behold.

As the commandos arrange themselves in columns between the starships and fortress entrance, TWO SITH APPRENTICES exit the Blastboat and T-6, respectively. The first is a Human man, GALEN MAREK. Approximately seventeen years old, he is tall and lean, handsome, with close-cropped black hair and small, dark, insolent eyes. He wears on his person a Jedi lightsaber and Sith warblade. The second is a Togruta woman, AHSOKA TANO. Approximately eighteen years old, she is of average height, slender, beautiful, with three blue-striped white head-tails and large, expressive, sapphire eyes. She wears on her person a pair of crystalline sai.

The columns of Sith commandos behind them, the Sith apprentices face the blast door separating them from the Jedi.


The blast door rises. The Gray Knights of Taravedra find themselves face-to-face with the hordes of the Resurrected Brotherhood of the Sith.

KAOLIN DARGUUN: (ignites lightsaber) Jedi, at arms!

Triggering their silver lightsabers, the Jedi warriors join their master in the charge against the Sith.


Like a pair of tidal waves, the two sides come together. The gray fabric of the Jedi uniforms collides with the charcoal armour of the commandos. Blades of silver plasma and shafts of lightsaber-resistant metal clash against each other or penetrate flesh.

As two Gray Knights — man and woman — converge on Galen, he whips out his lightsaber. Triggering the Jedi weapon with a sharp SNAP-HISS, he blocks the female Jedi’s silver blade with his capri one. As the male Jedi swings his saber, Galen ducks beneath its arc, saving him his head. Lunging with the warblade, the Sith runs the male Jedi through the gut. The dying man no longer a serious threat, Galen gives all his attention to the woman. In moments she, too, is removed from the fight.

A Gray Knight lunges at Ahsoka. Sidestepping the strike, she catches the glowing blade in the tongs of one of her crystal sai. Locking the blade in place, she brings the shaft of her other sai down hard on the lightsaber’s emitter, shattering it. Casting the demolished hilt aside, the Jedi makes a high kick for the Togruta’s face. Deflecting the kick with her forearm, she jabs him in the solar plexus with a sai, driving him to the ground.

The battle wears on. Though the Gray Knights fight bravely, Lord Bibhrama’s battle meditation causes them to lose morale and falter, gaining the commandos the upper hand. Soon it becomes evident who the victors are; the Sith have won this day.

Master Darguun finds himself the last Jedi standing. The two Sith apprentices circle him.

AHSOKA TANO: Lay down your arms, Master Jedi. We have no truck with you.

GALEN MAREK: We want only the casket.

KAOLIN DARGUUN: For five-thousand years the Gray Knights of Taravedra have stood ever-vigilant against the minions of the dark side. Sar Maland shall never be loosed to benight the Galaxy again.

Galen strikes with both swords, scissoring them through the air. Ducking beneath the blades, the Jedi master drives his elbow into the apprentice’s chest, driving him back with a WOOF of forcibly expelled air. As the Sith staggers backward, Darguun kicks him in the face, laying him flat on his back. Crystal sai in both hands, Ahsoka leaps forward. With lightning quick moves, she makes a series of strikes with her sai, but the Gray Knight expertly dodges all. Sweeping her leg along the ground, she tries knocking Darguun off his feet, but the master leaps over the kick, delivering his own which sends the apprentice sprawling. Collecting themselves, Ahsoka and Galen attack Darguun together. Working as a team, they prevail better against the Gray Knight, but not enough to actually best him. For every glancing blow they make, he avoids — and delivers — ten more.

Master Darguun ends this scuffle. Carving a vertical line down Galen’s right eye, he then punches the male apprentice in the face, knocking him out cold. Turning, he takes hold of Ahsoka’s wrists as she lunges at him. Collapsing onto his back, he uses his foot to hoist her up into the air, tossing her back head-long into the hard courtyard cobblestones.

KAOLIN DARGUUN: (retrieves lightsaber) It ends.

Looming over the pair of beaten Sith apprentices, the Gray Knight raises the glowing plasma blade high. But before he can deliver the fatal strikes, he begins CHOKING. As the Jedi master drops his lightsaber and falls to his knees, clawing at his throat, ANAKIN SKYWALKER and Lord Bibhrama emerge from the Slipstream. Sixteen years older than when we saw him last, Anakin has undergone minor yet noticeable physical changes in the intervening years. In addition to the goatee he has grown, he wears a long, ugly scar which runs under his left eye, across the left side of his face, ending at his ear. He is attired in an outfit consisting of a midnight blue tunic and slacks, black gloves and boots, a long black tabard, and a large black cloak.

ANAKIN: You’ll forgive me, Master Jedi, if I spare my apprentices your blade.

Anakin and Bibhrama continue on their way, slipping inside the Gray Fortress with a squad of accompanying Sith commandos.


The Sith and their commandos slip inside the reliquary. Sensing the intruders, the twenty Gray Ascetics take up their long-handle lightsabers, igniting the silver blades. Bringing the thrumming blades to bear, they advance. Stepping forward, Bibhrama throws up his left hand, barking an incantation. As the Sith amulet glows anew, the Ascetics halt and drop their lightsabers. Through the Force, Bibhrama awakens the Jedi to all the senses they’ve been deadened to. Overwhelmed by sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch, they collapse to the floor, SCREAMING as they claw at nonexistent ears and eyes, biting into tongues and smashing in noses to kill the flavours of the air.

Passing through the writhing Jedi, Anakin approaches the stasis casket. Coming to the casket’s access panel, he submits the requisite code. The obsidian lid opens, revealing the contents secreted within: a Human corpse — five-thousand years dead but as fresh as the day it met its fate — adorned in the armour of Sar Maland, one of the original Sith Lords. Bending low over the body, Anakin peers into the dark eyes of Sar Maland’s helm. The skull-like visage of the helm almost seems to look back at the Dark Lord of the Sith.


Gathering their injured and dead, the commandos return to the ships. Ahsoka and Galen stand over Darguun, who lies face-down upon the ground, face dark blue, alive but only just. The commando squad emerges from the fortress, guiding a repulsor pad towards the Slipstream; upon the repulsor pad rests the stasis casket, sealed once more. Bibhrama and Anakin emerge from the fortress after them. As the commandos guide the casket into the Corvette, the Sith Lords join the apprentices. Anakin releases his hold on the Jedi master’s trachea, allowing him to breathe freely again.

KAOLIN DARGUUN: (gasps harshly)

ANAKIN: Excuse my acute display of Force. I do not take kindly to the sight of Jedi striking down defenseless opponents.

KAOLIN DARGUUN: Do you know what you’ve unleashed? The armour of Sar Maland —

ANAKIN: (interrupts) The armour of Sar Maland is a relic of the Old Sith Empire. (points at Darguun) You have no claim to it. (beat) The armour shall be taken to our world. There it shall be appreciated by the acolytes of our Brotherhood — from afar.

KAOLIN DARGUUN: The armour will seek out a host. Your acolytes will be unable to resist its call.

DARTH: If you believe we cannot contain the armour, you are welcome to come with us. Your expertise may prove invaluable.

Darguun glowers at Anakin.

ANAKIN: I thought not. (beat) Your burden has been lifted, Master. Find a new cause to fight for.

The Dark Lord and his acolytes return to their ships. Powering up, the Sith vessels rise from the courtyard and take off into the open sky, leaving Darguun alone with his slain and wounded.


Hours later.

With the fall of twilight, relief ships from Alderaan have come to assist the decimated Gray Knights. Injured Jedi are looked at and attended to by medics, the gravely injured taken aboard shuttles to be ferried to an orbiting medical frigate.

A Lambda-class shuttle lands in the courtyard. Painted blue, the Lambda bears the crest of the Alderaanian Fleet. Boarding ramp lowering, OBI-WAN KENOBI emerges. Obi-Wan, too, has undergone subtle but profound changes in the last sixteen years. He wears his graying blond hair short and has grown a Van Dyke beard. Appointed General of the Alderaanian Fleet, he wears the corresponding uniform: a black jumpsuit complete with silver gloves, boots, and belt.

Passing through the Imperial medics and wounded Gray Knights, the ronin Jedi Knight approaches the Gray Fortress entrance. Above the entrance, burned deep into the stone, is the crest of the Resurrected Brotherhood of the Sith. Based on the Imperial crest, it consists of six spokes contained within a hexagon.

OBI-WAN: Missed him again.



The seventeen Sith starships come to Vjun.

Aquamarine-and-white in colour, Vjun is a predominantly aquatic world, with about 82% of the surface covered in water. Only two modest continents surrounded by archipelagos rise up from the ocean floor, the western continent the larger of the pair.


Breaking through the thick cloud cover, the Sith vessels head for Bast Castle. Built on a waterfall, a river running through it, Bast Castle is composed of gray-green granite, with a squat base which gives rise to a tall tower which tapers off at two spires at the top, granting the castle a resemblance to an oversized tuning fork. This is the home base of the Resurrected Brotherhood of the Sith.


The ships touch down on a landing platform linked to the castle by a short stone causeway. As Anakin, his three acolytes, and the commandos climb out of their ships, they find NEARLY TWO-DOZEN MEMBERS OF THE BROTHERHOOD standing out in the pouring rain in wait for them.

Breaking away from the other twenty-three, DAHLIA KARIN approaches Anakin. Adorned in thigh-high black boots, black leggings, a black crop top, and a black evening glove up her one arm, the sensuous Pantoran woman also wears her long, dark hair up in a French twist.

DAHLIA: Lord Skywalker, your campaign was successful?

ANAKIN: (sweeps out arm) See for yourself, Dahlia.

Following Anakin’s arm, Dahlia watches as the Sith commandos unload the stasis casket from the Slipstream.

DAHLIA: (smiles) This artifact will be granted a special place of honour in our reliquary.

ANAKIN: The casket, yes. The body will receive an honourable burial, along with the armour it wears.

DAHLIA: (frowns) Master?

ANAKIN: The Gray Knights are correct in their assessment of the armour, loath as I am to admit it. Our acolytes may lack the discipline to resist its lure; should one of us succumb, the cost could be catastrophic. No. We will place the armour beyond mortal reach.

DAHLIA: Then why steal the armour from the Taravedran Knights if they’ve successfully contained it these thousands of years?

ANAKIN: I’ll give you the same answer I gave them: They have no claim to it.


Having dispensed with his cloak, tabard, and gloves, Anakin enters the sunroom. Though the room isn’t exceedingly wide, it does sport a very high ceiling, allowing the south wall to accommodate a series of slit windows which let in an abundance of natural outdoor light.

Close to the windows, NASHIRA SKYWALKER reclines in a chaise longue. Clad in an off-shoulder dress of carmine velvet which shows off her shapely legs, wearing her long red hair back in a braid, her attention is focused on the screen of a datapad she is reading. She doesn’t seem to be aware of Anakin’s presence behind her.

ANAKIN: Nashira.

Hearing his voice, she finally turns to look upon him.

ANAKIN: (cont’d) I’m home.

NASHIRA: (turns off datapad) Don’t let me get up on your account.

ANAKIN: (grins) I wouldn’t think of it.

Crossing in front of the chaise longue, the Dark Lord of the Sith sits down on the end of it. Setting down her datapad, 'Shira sits up. Husband and wife kiss then hug, happy to be in close company after so long a time spent apart.


Emerging from hyperspace, the Dreadnought-class battle cruiser Knight Errant cruises toward the beautiful blue orb that is Alderaan.


Obi-Wan stands on the bridge, arms held behind him, gazing at the planet through the bridge viewport.


Unlike Coruscant, where the natural landscape has been wholly supplanted by a global cityscape, Alderaan is a place where technology and nature co-exist in a harmonious balance. Built along the coast of a large sparkling lake, the white marble towers and polished chromium platforms of Alderaan’s capital rise high enough almost to touch the brilliant yellow sun in the clear azure sky. With elevated lanes connecting the towers and platforms, the ground below is allowed to escape urban development; large parks and walking trails exist where paved streets would lie on many other developed worlds.


The Jedi Knight sits in the back of a taxi airspeeder, leaving the city.


The taxi pulls up to a cottage. Built close to the lakefront, there is naught but crystal clear water, white sand, and long wild grass surrounding it.

Climbing out of the taxi, Obi-Wan pays the driver.


Opening the front door, Obi-Wan steps inside. A small dwelling, the cottage only houses four rooms: the living area; a kitchen; a bed chamber; and a refresher unit. For Obi-Wan, who lives alone, this space is sufficient.

Closing the door, Obi-Wan walks up to the fireplace mantel. Atop the mantel rest two decorations: the hilt of Anakin’s former lightsaber, retired from active duty since the wayward apprentice’s departure, and a holograph of himself with his wife SIRI TACHI and eleven-year-old son DARTH VADER. Picking up the holograph, Obi-Wan examines it. All three figures are looking at the unseen holographer, bright smiles on their faces. Returning the hologram to its place, Obi-Wan takes a seat at a small round table. Setting his chin down on his closed fist, he stares ahead at nothing.

Obi-Wan Kenobi — Jedi Knight; veteran of the Third Clone War; decorated war hero; former sergeant in the Imperial Army and present General of the Alderaanian Fleet — leads a sad and lonely existence.


The large mushroom-shaped Senate Building stands dark against the electric blue sky of Coruscant.


JEDI MISTRESS ADI GALLIA, member of the Jedi council of the Order of Coruscant, enters the private box reserved for council members. Sitting down with her husband, GRAND MASTER MACE WINDU, she joins him in observing the proceedings currently underway in the Convocation Chamber beyond.


Atop the tall podium situated in the centre of the chamber stands DANTIUS PALPATINE with his vice chair and aide, MAS AMEDDA and SLY MOORE. A Human male in his early thirties, Palpatine appears at least five years younger than his age. Clad in a crimson robe, he is regally handsome, with slicked-back platinum blond hair, high cheekbones, and clear, blue eyes. Amedda and Moore are Twi’lek and Umbaran, respectively.

A large hologram comes to life over the trio’s heads. It is a full-colour projection of EMPEROR SON HHAT’S FACE. Hhat, the successor to the Imperial throne following the untimely death of Cos Dashit some years back, has a large round face and beady eyes. Clad in a hood of gold shimmersilk, we can instinctively tell his pomposity exceeds his competence.

MAS AMEDDA: His Imperial Majesty Emperor Son Hhat!

The amassed senators declare in one voice “Hail the emperor!”

SON HHAT: In light of the suspicions of corruption circling this body, I have appointed Senator Dantius Palpatine of Nabu your new supreme chancellor. When he speaks, take heart that he speaks for me.

The emperor, having spoke his piece, allows the supreme chancellor to speak his.

DANTIUS PALPATINE: It is with great reluctance that I have agreed to this calling. Beyond representing my home planet, I have no ambitions. But the fact that this crisis is demanding I be given control over the Senate is evident. (beat) I make my solemn promise to you as supreme chancellor: Those elements responsible for compromising the integrity of this once-august body will be found; they will be revealed for the treacherous serpents they are; they will be delivered unto justice for their crimes.

A CHORUS OF APPLAUSE rings out. How many of the senators are genuinely applauding as opposed to masking their true sentiments remains to be uncovered.


MACE WINDU: (smiles) It is done, then.


Windu and Gallia cross paths with Palpatine and his retinue of BLUE-GARBED SENATE GUARDS.

MACE WINDU: Congratulations on your appointment, Chancellor Palpatine.

DANTIUS PALPATINE: Your congratulations are appreciated, Master Windu. (beat) The job ahead of me is a great one indeed. It will not be easy purging the Senate of corruption.

MACE WINDU: You will see the task through to completion, Chancellor. I’m certain of that.

DANTIUS PALPATINE: I must admit your faith in my capabilities is greater than my own, Master Jedi.

MACE WINDU: If you are ever in need of aid, the Order of Coruscant will be there to provide it.

DANTIUS PALPATINE: (smiles) I’ll be sure to remember that. Thank you, Master Jedi.

The chancellor and Jedi continue on their respective ways. Gallia gives Windu a strange look. He notices.


ADI GALLIA: Your pledge to the chancellor. Wasn’t it a bit …


ADI GALLIA: (cont’d) A bit bold?


ADI GALLIA: The order submits to the will of the people through the Senate. One man isn’t the Senate, Mace.

MACE WINDU: So long as there remain senators with ties to Black Sun, the Hutt Cartel, any illicit enterprise, I will consider that one man the Senate.



Coruscant’s distant sun is setting behind the spires of the Jedi Temple of the Order of Coruscant.


Within a turbolift ride two figures, one clad in the uniform of a Coruscanti Jedi knight, the other in the uniform of a Coruscanti Jedi apprentice: SIRI TACHI and UZOCHI WINDU-GALLIA. Save for a short hairstyle she now wears, Siri hasn’t changed much in the interim since we saw her last. Uzochi, on the other hand, is now a twenty-year-old beanpole of a man — a far cry from the small, cherubic four-year-old we knew him as.

Running his hands through his hair — which is cropped short save the single thin apprentice’s braid he wears on the right side of his head — Uzochi then smooths out the front of his gray tunic.

SIRI: You’re on edge.

UZOCHI: (shakes head) Not at all.

SIRI: I haven’t seen you this tense since … since that first day as your caretaker.

UZOCHI: (chuckles nervously) I don’t even remember that.

SIRI: You’re sweating. Relax. Take a deep breath.

UZOCHI: I’ve been anticipating this day for ten years, Siri.

SIRI: You can stand to anticipate it another ten minutes, 'Chi.


Emerging from the turbolift, the two Jedi walk up to the double doors leading into the council chambers. At their approach, the doors slide open, yawning darkness waiting beyond. Exchanging silent glances with Siri, Uzochi steps inside.


'Chi makes his way to the centre of the pitch black room. Once his footfalls cease, twelve lightsabers spring to life in a unified SNAP-HISS around him, forming a perfect circle of varicoloured light. Surrounding the Jedi apprentice are the TWELVE MEMBERS OF THE CORUSCANTI JEDI COUNCIL: Master Windu; Mistress Gallia; Master Kit Fisto; Mistress Shaak Ti; Master Agen Kolar; Master Ki-Adi-Mundi; Master Cin Drallig; Master Plo Koon; Master Saesee Tiin; Master Coleman Kcaj; Master Ben Expy; and Mistress Ani Expy. All their lightsabers shine blue, green, or yellow save for Windu’s, which resonates with a violet radiance.

MACE WINDU: Step forward, apprentice.

Uzochi approaches his father, getting down on one knee before him. As Windu raises his saber, the other masters lower theirs.

MACE WINDU: (lays blade on Uzochi’s shoulders) Uzochi Windu-Gallia, by the right of the council, by the will of the Force, I dub thee Jedi …

Raising his weapon’s power setting, Windu cuts the braid from his son’s head. It lands on the floor, severed end smouldering.

MACE WINDU: (cont’d) Knight of the Empire.

The ceremony completed, Uzochi rises to his full height, now a true Jedi Knight.


Siri is waiting there patiently when 'Chi emerges from the council chambers.

UZOCHI: (beams) I’m a knight!

Bursting with excitement, Uzochi seizes Siri in a tight hug.

UZOCHI: I only wish Darth could’ve been here.

SIRI: (smile falters) That would’ve been nice.


Within the Outlander Club sits DARTH VADER. Like his friend Uzochi, Darth has undergone dynamic physical changes over the last couple decades. A tall man, broad-shouldered, buff, he is also quite handsome, with a strong jawline, full lips, and piercing blue eyes. Currently dressed in a heavily wrinkled version of Chi’s Jedi uniform, he sits hunched over a glass of some blue liquor, ogling the female strippers who gyrate and undulate atop the table before him.

Darth’s attention has focused on one stripper in particular — a Theelin stripper with mottled lavender skin and auburn hair. As she takes notice of his gaze, she gets down on her belly and crawls to him.

THEELIN STRIPPER: Haven’t seen you before.

DARTH: (drunk) You remember every face that comes in here?

Sitting up, she draws the zipper of her electric crimson catsuit down.

THEELIN STRIPPER: Not too many Jedi come in here.

Looking down, Darth finally seems to realize what he’s wearing.

DARTH: Name’s Darth.


DARTH: 'Chi — my friend, 'Chi — he’s being knighted today.

Pulling the front of her catsuit open, Zema unveils her ample bosom — the nipples of which are hidden behind rose-coloured pasties.


DARTH: 'Chi doesn’t drink — and he’s not much interested in women — so I’m here celebrating for him.

ZEMA: His loss.

Lying on her back, Zema lifts her legs up into the air. Pushing the catsuit down, she uncovers her firm buttocks and the rose thong which does little to conceal it from the universe.

DARTH: (eyes bulging) I’ll say.

Tossing the catsuit away, Zema gets up on her knees. Balancing her breasts on one forearm, she starts peeling her pasties off.

ZEMA: I thought you’re not allowed to show interest in us non-Jedi.

DARTH: No one said I couldn’t look.

Taking her breasts in both hands, Zema wiggles them around in front of Darth’s slack face.

ZEMA: (grins) Like what you see?

DARTH: Uh-huh.

ZEMA: Fifteen credits and you can touch them.

Darth shakes his head to clear the booze from his mind.

DARTH: Let me take you home.

ZEMA: (laughs) Sorry, babe, but my services don’t extend that far — no matter how many credits you got.

DARTH: (firm) Let me take you home.

Zema loses her smile, falling under a trance.

ZEMA: Take me home.

Zema steps down from the table. Throwing an arm around Zema, he guides her to the exit.


The next day, Siri — now attired in casual civilian garb — comes to Darth’s flat. Standing outside the door, she rings the doorbell.


Hearing the doorbell, Zema, rubbing her sore backside, goes to open the door. Siri looks upon the Theelin woman dressed only in Darth’s Jedi tunic.

SIRI: (nonplussed) I’m here to see Darth.

ZEMA: Come in.


Zema guides Siri into the dining area. Darth is seated at the dining table, hunched over a mug of caf, nursing a hangover.

ZEMA: We’re having caf. Care for some?

SIRI: Thank you, no.

Siri sits down at the table with Darth.

ZEMA: Darth, babe? I’m gonna take a shower. I’ll leave you and your girlfriend to talk or … whatever.

SIRI: I’m not his —

But Zema has already left the room.

SIRI: (cont’d) girlfriend. (sighs)

DARTH: (sips from mug) What do you want, Siri?

SIRI: You missed Uzochi’s knighting ceremony.

DARTH: I didn’t miss it. I celebrated it in my own way.

SIRI: Translation: You spent the most momentous night of your best friend’s life boozing and whoring your way about town.

DARTH: Zema’s not a whore, alright? (beat) She’s a stripper.

SIRI: A fine difference.

DARTH: Look, if you’re here to berate me over my irresponsible behaviour, don’t. I’ve learned my lesson; this raging hangover’s taught it to me.

SIRI: This isn’t the first time I’ve found you getting over a drunken stupor, Darth, or in a drunken stupor or in the company of strange women. You spend less time with me learning the Jedi arts than you do with the beer barons of Uscru District learning theirs.

DARTH: (irate) It’s all about the Jedi with you, isn’t it? Jedi, Jedi, Jedi. It’s all you’ve ever cared a damn about when it came to me. I was never a son to you — just a kriffing student to teach.

SIRI: That’s not so.

DARTH: Course it is. Soon as you and Obi adopted me, you wasted no time squeezing me into that stupid uniform and making me learn the Force.

SIRI: We didn’t make you. We offered you the choice and you took it.

DARTH: Of course I took it! I was a nine-year-old kid! What nine-year-old doesn’t want to be a Jedi Knight? Thing was I grew out of it, but you — you wouldn’t let me. Couldn’t be a regular teenager, couldn’t have normal interests — especially after the divorce. You only pushed me harder with Obi-Wan out of the picture. (beat) Well, I’m pushing back. I’m gonna keep pushing until I’ve pushed my way out.

SIRI: So you don’t want to complete your training. You want out of the order.

DARTH: Looks like it, doesn’t it?

SIRI: Then you won’t mind when you’re cut off.

DARTH: Cut off?

SIRI: (nods) As my apprentice, you receive an ample benefit — the one you’ve been using to fuel your hedonistic lifestyle. If our relationship is terminated, so is any income you receive from the order. Gone are your nights spent at the strip clubs and cantinas — unless you can find a job to pay for them.

DARTH: You’d do it, wouldn’t you? Take away my childhood and as the coup de grâce cut my legs out from under me.

SIRI: If you want to live your life free of the order, you take everything that comes with that decision — drawbacks included.

DARTH: (angry) Get out.

Rising from her chair, Siri starts out of the room. Stopping in the doorway, she turns back to Darth.

SIRI: Darth, I don’t even care if you want to leave the order. I just don’t want to see you become … whatever you’re becoming.

With those words spoken, she leaves.

A couple minutes later, Zema re-enters the dining area. Freshly showered, hair brushed, she now wears a shirt and pants taken from Darth’s dresser.

ZEMA: Your girlfriend’s gone?

Darth, too immersed in his own thoughts, doesn’t answer.

ZEMA: Look, I’ve got to head to the club. I left early, didn’t punch out; I’ve got to talk to the boss unless I wanna lose my job. Probably gonna lose my head, anyway. (beat) Listen, I left my number on your bedside table. Give me a ring anytime; I’d love to hook up again. (winks) You’re sure kinky for a Jedi.

DARTH: She’s not my —

But Zema has already left the flat.

DARTH: (cont’d) girlfriend.



The members of the Resurrected Brotherhood of the Sith have assembled in this spacious chamber for a very special occasion: the marriage of two of their own.

Atop the podium stand Anakin and the betrothed. The Dark Lord of the Sith, clad in a robe of white shimmersilk, stands before the altar. The prospective man and wife, in turn, stand before him. They face each other eye-to-eye, held fast together by the forearms.

ANAKIN: Friends, do you take each other as one, vowing to be unto each other loving and faithful partners, 'til the Force wills your separation?

Nodding in tandem, they separate. Pivoting to the altar, Anakin takes up a pair of objects: a crystal chalice containing a colourless liquor and a razor-sharp stiletto dagger. He presents the fiancé the stiletto.

FIANCÉ: (accepts stiletto) Before this assembly I take my friend Euanthe to be my wife, vowing to be unto her a loving and faithful husband, 'til the Force wills our separation.

The fiancé glides the blade along his palm, drawing blood. Opening his hand over the chalice, he allows his blood to trickle into the clear fluid, staining it bright red. Taking the stiletto back, Anakin presents it to the fianceé.

FIANCEÉ: (accepts stiletto) Before this assembly I take my friend Narinder to be my husband, vowing to be unto him a loving and faithful wife, 'til the Force wills our separation.

The fianceé repeats her betrothed’s gesture. As her blood trickles into the chalice, an alchemical reaction occurs; the blood-tinged liquor turns solid black.

ANAKIN: (smiles) The wine has gone black. Your bond is true.

With Anakin’s nod of assent, Euanthe and Narinder take turns drinking deep of the black wine. The attendees erupt with wild cheers of congratulation.


The marriage ceremony concluded, the Sith masses file out onto the stone courtyard adjoining the castle’s west face. There they take to dancing, eating, or talking — enjoying themselves. Galen is the only one who doesn’t appear invested in the festivities. Indeed, he appears rather apathetic to the entire affair.

Once he is certain he won’t be missed, he slips away.


Behind Bast Castle, Galen sits crouched atop the granite sluiceway which allows the river passage through the castle’s foundations and over the waterfall. Hunkered low, he watches the clear water cascade over the vertical drop, the droplets catching the cloud-diffused rays of sunlight to form a faint, miniature rainbow. Here — away from the others — he is tranquil.

Immersed in his bliss, Galen doesn’t seem to take notice of Ahsoka as she appears behind him, throwing a long leg out as she takes a running leap forward. At the last possible second, Galen spins around, avoiding a blow which quite literally would’ve knocked his block off. Landing across from him, Ahsoka makes a roundhouse kick; this time Galen takes the blow to the jaw and stumbles back.

Ahsoka launches into a flurry of attacks, sending a series of punches, kicks, and chops at Galen. No pushover, Galen does a fair job blocking most of these strikes, but he fails to counter the kick which sweeps him off his feet. Landing on his back, the wind is knocked from him. Ahsoka plants her heel on his throat, silently warning him not to struggle lest he wants a crushed windpipe.

AHSOKA: Out here alone, Galen? Unarmed? Quite foolish. I’m always tailing you, two steps behind.

Seizing the boot at his throat, he twists, tossing Ahsoka off her feet. Leaping atop her, he takes her head in his hands, threatening to snap her neck at the first sign of a wrong move.

GALEN: Unarmed’s a matter of perspective.

Galen feels a cold pressure at his nether regions. Glancing down, he sees that Ahsoka has the blade of a slim dagger pressed into his crotch.

AHSOKA: (cocks brow) I’ve a fair vantage point from here.

None-too-eagre to part with his three-man army, Galen releases her, spreading his hands wide in surrender. Taking him by the thighs, Ahsoka pulls Galen to her while simultaneously flipping him right on his back again. Throwing herself atop him, she pins him there.

AHSOKA: How’s the eye?

GALEN: Healing.

AHSOKA: You should put bacta on that. Otherwise it’ll scar.

GALEN: Maybe I want it to scar.

AHSOKA: We’re missing the party.

Seizing the Togruta’s buttocks, he forces her closer to him.

GALEN: No we’re not.

AHSOKA: There’s cake.

GALEN: I prefer pie.

AHSOKA: Pie? (half-smiles) Which flavour?

GALEN: Strawberry-rhubarb.

AHSOKA: Sweet….

GALEN: With just a trace of bitter….

Lowering her face over Galen’s, Ahsoka locks lips with her lover.


Anakin is with Nashira in their bed chamber. As he stands before the open wardrobe clad only in briefs and socks, placing his clerical robe back inside, she — clad in a gown of gleaming black — sits on the bed watching him.

NASHIRA: It was a beautiful ceremony.

ANAKIN; (nods) It was.

NASHIRA: Euanthe and Narinder … they really are a pair. (beat) They remind me so much of ourselves. Remember how we were at that age?

ANAKIN: Mmm-hmm.

Anakin takes out his blue uniform and sets about getting dressed.

NASHIRA: They want children.

ANAKIN: (cocks eyebrow) Narinder never struck me as the paternal type.

NASHIRA: (shrugs) Nevertheless.

ANAKIN: May the Force be with them.

Once in his blue tunic and slacks, Anakin retrieves his black boots and slips into them.

NASHIRA: (morose) I wish … (trails off)


NASHIRA: I wanted to be the wife you wanted, Anakin. The wife who could’ve been the mother of your children.

Crossing over to Nashira, Anakin sits down beside her.

ANAKIN: Don’t do this. Please don’t. (beat) To have been a father … would’ve been heaven, but you’ve already given me so much of yourself. Sixteen years — sixteen years — on a fool’s errand to rebuild an order four millennia dead, and you’ve been here. At any time you could’ve quit this madness, but you stayed. I owe you everything, 'Shira. You owe me nothing.

They kiss. Then Anakin returns to the wardrobe and retrieves his cloak.

NASHIRA: Will you be gone awhile?

ANAKIN: (dons cloak) There’s a short task to be done. I shouldn’t be longer than eight hours.

NASHIRA: (smiles) I’ll be counting the minutes.

ANAKIN: (cocks eyebrow) Not the seconds?

NASHIRA: I need some time to myself.


The Slipstream enters the vicinity of Mustafar. Once a verdant, water-rich planet not unlike Vjun only decades before, Mustafar was reduced to an inhospitable sphere of searing rock and magma after three of the Cartan Autonomy’s battlemoons devastated it with a concentrated superlaser blast.


Landing on the rocky surface, the Slipstream’s entry hatch opens and the boarding ramp extends. The stasis casket — supported by the Force — glides out, Anakin following shortly behind.

Anakin and the casket soon come to the edge of an active volcanic pit. The lid of the casket springs open and the armour-clad cadaver is levitated out. Swivelling upward until it appears to be standing in mid-air, the still figure then is guided forward until it is suspended over the open pit. The heat wafting up from the magma kilometres below is intense enough to affect the dead flesh secreted beneath the plates of armour; it spontaneously ignites. As the humanoid shape is engulfed in orange flame, the eyeholes of the iron helm blaze with preternatural yellow light. Anakin gazes into those eyes. As he does, he can almost hear the voice of Sar Maland whispering to him, offering sublime promises of staggering power and limitless reward if Anakin will but call the enchanted armour back from the pit.

The spectral form of PRE VIZSLA then materializes, standing between Anakin and the burning armour.

PRE VIZSLA: Enticed? You can’t be blamed. Sar Maland was a contemporary of Adas himself. Our records are scant, but there is every indication he had been an ally of the Dark Lord, perhaps a rival even. And here he persists. Think on it; to not only anchor your soul to a physical talisman but keep it anchored for seventy centuries; even the Lettow themselves hadn’t the skill. Maland’s knowledge was indeed awesome. And if he would be willing to share his magicks? If he could be persuaded? The Galaxy could be brought to heel. That power at your disposal? With a moonfall and a sunrise, the Dark Emperor would plummet and the Sith Brotherhood ascend. (beat) But Sar Maland’s will is iron and he does not share. Sar Maland seeks only to impose his will on the universe, and he will impose himself on you, his hapless vessel, and your thousand thousand worlds will be deluged in variegated blood.

Digesting Vizsla’s words, the Dark Lord takes a final gander at Sar Maland’s armour. The body of the unfortunate fool who made the unwise choice to submit to the armour’s siren song five-thousand years ago has been wholly consumed; not even ash lingers. All that remains is the suit itself, black-hot, eyeholes still aglow. Anakin releases his hold. The armour comes apart, each of its separate pieces falling into the molten abyss, the final tomb of Sar Maland.



The sun shines bright on the Senate Flat Complex, a series of connected apartment buildings built to accommodate the plethora of senators from all worlds of the Empire.


A Rodian maid arrives with a service trolley laden with cleaning products and fresh linens. Stopping at the door to Senator Gume Saam’s flat, she KNOCKS.

RODIAN MAID: Senator? It’s Clana. Alright if I come in?

Receiving no answer, Clana opens the door and guides the trolley in.


The maid enters the living area. As she does so, she immediately comes upon a most unexpected and unwelcome sight: the Ishi Tib senator sprawled out upon his sofa, a blaster held loosely in his right hand and a hole bored through his skull, stone dead. She SCREAMS.


An hour later.

LIEUTENANT TAN DIVO of the Coruscant Security Forces enters the apartment. Already present are forensic officers, going over the residence in search of clues. Over by the body of Gume Saam stands SERGEANT HEREON MORESOOT.

LT. DIVO: (approaches Moresoot) What’s on our platter, Sergeant?

SGT. MORESOOT: (cocks brow) Draw your own conclusions.

Taking out a small canister, the balding, maroon-eyed lieutenant sprays a whitish fluid on both hands. After the fluid has solidified into latex-like coverings, he begins his cursory examination. After giving Saam’s head wound and gun hand once-overs, he picks a sheet of flimsi up from the caf table and speed-reads through the suicide note.

SGT. MORESOOT: (nods) Open-and-shut.

LT. DIVO: (sets flimsi down) See that the Senator from Tibrin is bagged and tagged.

Done here, the lieutenant pivots on his heel and strides out. The sergeant leaves to get somebody to attend to Saam. Neither men taken notice of the Ishi Tib’s left hand, the fingers of which are dark with bruises.


Darth has entered the Room of a Thousand Fountains. His hair combed, his gray uniform cleaned and ironed, the hilts of his twin lightsabers hanging side-by-side from his belt, he looks a damn sight better than he did the night — and morning — before.

Darth stands on the bottom floor of the chamber. The space is occupied by several beautiful gardens. Numerous Jedi share the space with him, alone or together, walking or resting, conversing or meditating. Gazing upward, Darth sees the dozens upon dozens of elevated platforms which fill up space in the seven storeys overhead.


Siri, situated on one of the platforms, sitting by a brook under the sheltering arms of a bafforr tree, in a lotus position, in meditation.

Having entered a turbolift tube connecting the bottom floor with the platform, Darth is carried up until he emerges atop the platform. He quickly finds his foster mother. Opening her eyes, Siri turns to face her foster son standing behind her.

SIRI: (cont’d) Anything I can help you with, Darth?

Approaching Siri, Darth sits down before her.

DARTH: You don’t like what I’m becoming. That’s what you said?

Siri nods.

DARTH: (cont’d) I … I lost one mother; I don’t want to lose another. (beat) I’ll give it up — give it all up — I’ll be your apprentice. Just please … don’t leave me alone.

As Darth’s eyes grow moist, he turns away. Reaching out, she runs a thumb under an eye, drawing the excess liquid away as she tears up herself.


I briefly resumed working on this script during my hiatus from the forum, but placed it back on the back burner when I decided I wasn’t finished revising my Ep. I & II rewrites. After over a month of work, as of last night, I’ve finished the final* revisions to The New Dawn. 26 pages have been shaved from the script, with most of the dream sequences/Force visions cut out; I also made a number of less significant changes, such as to dialogue and character names.

I’m now returning to Knight of the Empire. In addition to deleting filler material and the like, I plan on making alterations to the depiction of the Sith, as well as keeping Dahlia alive. Once that’s all finished — within a month’s time, at the earliest — I’ll try getting back to work on A Lost Hope for real.

*I’ve said that before.


As of tonight, I have finished the seventh draft of Knight of the Empire. The page count have been reduced from 274 to 247, and I have made a series of changes, the most significant ones being the altered backstory of the Sith and that Dahlia Karin doesn’t die.

To bring A Lost Hope in line with my rewritten rewrites, I have revised the entries posted here. Notably, Karin now fills the role originally intended for Asajj Ventress. HERE is a link to the seventh draft of KOTE for anyone who finds themselves lost or just wants to familiarize themselves with my new direction.


I’d hoped to gain a co-plotter/co-writer to help me with this script, but no one expressed interest. Since I’m going nowhere fast on my own, and because I’ll be limiting my time on the forum, development of this script is now on official indefinite hiatus.

I don’t want to leave anyone hanging, so I’ll be posting the broad outline of the story below.


Senator Gume Saam's death is officially ruled a suicide, but someone who believes otherwise (Palaptine? Relative of Saam's? Anonymous?) hires Siri to do her own private investigation into the senator's death. Siri eventually uncovers evidence that Saam's suicide was faked. Soon other senators begin dying under suspicious circumstances. All these dying senators have one thing in common: they're all supporters of Chancellor Palpatine. Eventually, the assassin behind the murders is caught and the identity of their employer uncovered (it's not Palpatine).


Busy with her investigation, Siri has no time to train Darth. She contacts Obi-Wan and they agree to place their son in his care for the time being. There is friction between Darth & Obi-Wan.


The Sith Brotherhood decide to stage another raid for Sith artifacts. The artifacts in question are owned by a socialite, located on a major world. This'll be the largest, most public raid the Brotherhood's ever made.


At this point, Threads 2 & 3 converge. Anakin & his acoyltes make their raid, whereupon they discover that there are no true Sith artifacts to steal; it was all part of a ruse to lure Anakin into a trap, and Obi-Wan & Darth are there, in on it. In the ensuing battle, Obi-Wan & Darth are captured and the Sith escape. Taken back to Vjun, the Jedi are given run of the castle grounds, though explosive collars around their necks will keep them from ever leaving the planet. While in captivity, Ahsoka expresses interest in Darth. This draws the ire of Galen; he and Darth become bitter rivals.


For the past sixteen years, Dahlia has been administering a birth control drug into Nashira's food. After sixteen years, Nashira has finally developed a resistance to the drug and has conceived. However, sixteen years of taking the drug have wrecked irreparable damage to her nervous system; in three-to-five years, she will die. Anakin & Nashira make the trip to Korriban. There, Anakin asks the Sith spirits to heal her. They refuse to heal her (why?). Returning to Vjun, Anakin & Nashira agree for her to be sealed in the Sith statis casket until a cure for her illness can be found.


To get Darth off Vjun and away from Ahsoka, Galen decides to help the two Jedi escape. Darth refuses to leave. While Darth & Galen engage in a final duel, Obi-Wan makes his escape. Anakin cannot let the Brotherhood's location be disclosed, so he and Darth go after him.


Reaching Imperial Space before Anakin can intercept him, Obi-Wan reveals the Brotherhood's location to the authorities. The news goes all the way to Palpatine. Placing WIndu in command of a _Gladiator_-class Star Destroyer, Palpatine orders Windu to "deal with" the Sith on Vjun. Travelling to Vjun, Windu's forces attack Bast Castle. Taking the stasis casket containing Nashira aboard her ship, Ahsoka manages to escape Vjun. Her ship receives heavy damage and Ahsoka herself is gravely injured before the vessel jumps to hyperspace.


On Coruscant, Siri encounters Anakin & Darth. Not wanting to lose her son to the Sith, she engages Anakin in a duel.

Sensing the deaths of his acolytes through the Force, Anakin with Darth returns to Vjun. They find Bast Castle in ruin, the Sith massacred. They encounter a garrison of stormtroopers left behind on the planet. After making short work of the troopers, the two Sith learn from one of them that Palpatine ordered the command (would a lowly stormtrooper be privy to this info, though?).

Anakin returns to Coruscant to kill Palpatine. After defeating Palpatine's Jedi bodyguards, Anakin is defeated by Palpatine.

Palpatine then reveals that it is Anakin who is the envisioned Dark Emperor, that it was the Sith's grand design all along to resurrect their empire through him. All he had believed in — all he had loved and fought for — gone, Anakin is consumed by the dark side. He becomes Palpatine's newest servant.

Palpatine is elected emperor.

Anakin & Darth go to Mustafar, where construction begins on Anakin's new obsidian castle.

Finding out that Anakin has become Palpatine's servant, through his connections, Obi-Wan tracks him and Darth down to Mustafar. There he tries to sway Darth & Anakin back to the light. Anakin had fallen too far into his abyss, but Darth is stirred. The three battle. Obi-Wan is beaten down, but before Anakin can kill him, Darth turns on Anakin, striking his right hand off. Anakin & Darth then duel, coming too close to the edge of a volcanic pit, which they both fall into.

Palpatine's men find a human body, burnt but alive, washed up on shore. The body is taken back to Coruscant, where it is slowly healed/rebuilt over several weeks.

A year passes. The sexist, racist tenets of Palpatine's New Order have become evident. Palpatine's "Jedi inquisitors" are tasked with bringing dissenting Jedi in-line with the New Order.

To help his fellow true Jedi escape persecution, Obi-Wan goes underground.

Somewhere in deep space, in orbit around a brown dwarf, is Ahsoka's ship. The stasis casket containing Nashira — and her unborn — remains intact aboard.


I’ve decided to cut my losses and officially cancel development of this screenplay.

In my last post, I provided an outline of where I planned to take the story. I’ve since fleshed that outline out a bit, including details I deliberately omitted last time to preserve surprises. You can find it HERE.