Star Wars - Altered Path 0
Misunderstood
Misunderstood V2
...I'm just gonna put this here...
*tosses writing and runs*
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. George Lucas, the flannelled master, did. And now it is one of Disney’s things. I make no money with this. So do not sue.
Author’s Notes: An AU of an AU? That’s madness! But…that’s what this is! So while you don’t have to read the story upon which this story springs (Misunderstood / V2), it would help immensely in understanding where all the characters are coming from, and where they have been.
This tale begins near the very end of Misunderstood / V2, and turns on the question of: What would happen if Anakin had chosen differently on the eve of Order 66?
~***~
Prologue
Altered Path
Anakin had gone to wait in the Jedi Council chamber as Master Windu had ordered him to. But he couldn’t stay there. The atmosphere was too tense, too suffocating.
He’d sat in his chair and waited. But the longer he sat there, the worse he felt. It was like he was being pulled in two different directions at once. And there was a faint scrabbling feeling at the back of his mind, like someone was poking around there, subtlety looking for a way in…
That better not be Sidious, Anakin shivered and tightened the shields on his mind further.
Shaking his head, he stood up and paced around the chamber. It felt so strange to be there, all by himself. With the rapidly approaching dusk casting long shadows and staining everything with fiery golds and oranges…it was like some eerie dream.
Or a nightmare.
What am I doing? he wondered, scuffing his boot over the marble floor. Why am I just sitting here, doing nothing?
He was just sitting here because Master Windu had ordered him to. He was cowering here like a cornered animal because he was afraid. Afraid of what Sidious would do to him. Afraid of dying.
I’m such a coward.
Gnawing at his lower lip, he gazed out at the distant silhouette of Padmé’s apartment tower. He could almost imagine seeing her, staring back at him, from there. His throat felt oddly thick and scratchy and he had to look away.
I can’t stay here.
Unable to stand it, he left the Council chamber and went to the Temple Hanger. There he hopped into one of the Order’s high performance speeders and took off. Perhaps the thrill of going fast, just for the hell of it, would soothe him, help him think…
***
Mace Windu led his colleagues to the Supreme Chancellor’s office at the back of the Senate rotunda. The Shatterpoint, the point at which, depending on what one does, determines the outcome of a conflict, was drawing near. But instead of this being the Shatterpoint of a simple duel, this was the point of turning for the entire war-for the ancient conflict between Jedi and Sith.
If they triumphed here, the war would end, the Sith would be destroyed, and the leadership of the Senate would temporarily fall to the Jedi Council until a new Chancellor could be elected. If they failed, they would all die and the Sith Lord would turn his wrath on the Jedi Order. Whatever happened next would determine which fate befell them and the rest of the galaxy.
He stepped into the Chancellor’s office and headed for the back, where Palpatine sat at his desk. The elderly Chancellor deactivated the holo-terminal that he was sitting at and turned to regard his Jedi visitors with a friendly smile. Mace fought not to tense as the atmosphere in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.
“Master Windu, I take it that General Grievous has been destroyed then?” The Chancellor guessed. “I must say that you’re here sooner than expected.”
“In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic,” Mace declared, lighting his violet lightsaber as the other Masters lit their green and blue ones, “you are under arrest Chancellor.”
“Are you threatening me Master Jedi?” Palpatine growled, suddenly very unfriendly.
“The Senate will decide your fate.” Mace declared sternly as the Force shivered around them all.
“I am the Senate!” Palpatine snarled, standing up.
“Not yet.” Mace retorted.
“It’s treason then.” The Chancellor hissed.
A lightsaber with a gold and black hilt snapped to the Sith’s hand seemingly out of thin air. The old man stroked it with one finger as he glared at the four Jedi before him. And then he lit the blood-red blade.
With an inhuman snarl, the Chancellor abruptly vaulted over his desk in a spinning leap and landed right in front of them. Stabbing forward he instantly skewered and killed Agen Kolar, the Zabrak Master. Before he had even hit the floor, the Sith had turned on the fierce Iktotchi, Saesee Tiin, and killed him as well. Mace and Kit tried to pin the Sith Master between them and attack him from both sides. But the wily old man slipped away from them, slaying Kit Fisto the Nautolan as he went.
Now it was just down to Mace and Palpatine.
Sliding into the deadly and dangerous Form VII, the Vaapad style, Mace continued to duel with the Sith. It was a very dangerous style of lightsaber combat, one that demanded the user to walk a fine line between Light and Dark. And it seemed to be the only thing that helped him succeed where the others had fallen.
He ruthlessly slashed back, always keeping his violet blade moving, striking, like the deadly Vaapad beast the style took its name from. The Chancellor was forced to retreat back towards one of the large wide windows of his office. Their blades shattered the transparisteel, removing the only barrier between them and the howling wind and the streets far below. Mace managed to kick the Sith’s blade from his hand and pin him in the corner of the window.
“You are under arrest, my Lord!” Mace snapped, his blade hovering over Palpatine’s throat. “The oppression of the Sith will never return! You have lost!”
“No!” Palpatine croaked. “No, no! You will die!”
And with that, he unleashed the one of the Sith’s most perverse powers, the deadly Force lightning. Mace was nearly blown off his feet by its power and only just barely interposed his blade in time to avoid being hit directly. Straining, he struggled to reflect the Dark energy back at its source.
The Chancellor howled as stray bolts of his own lightning came back to strike him. With each hit, his face began to change. The skin became discolored; it started to run like melted wax, it peeled away from his bones like rotting flesh. Finally the pain seemed to be too much for him and the lightning stopped abruptly, causing Mace to sway, nearly losing his balance.
“I am going to end this once and for all!” Mace growled, raising his saber to strike.
The Chancellor, though gasping for breath, didn’t seem all that concerned. His sunken yellow eyes briefly darted to the doorway, as if he were expecting someone to arrive any moment. But no one was there, and no one came. He appeared to be…disappointed.
“No,” the Supreme Chancellor snarled, “I shall end this!”
In one fluid motion he called one of the fallen Jedi Masters lightsabers, ignited it, and swung it around to bisect Mace’s wrist. Agony exploded down his seared and severed nerves and he stumbled back a step as his lightsaber hilt sailed down to the distant street. Knocked completely off-balance, Mace clutched at the cauterized stump of his forearm in a daze for precious seconds that he did not have.
The Supreme Chancellor-Darth Sidious-lurched back to his feet with a hungry, ghoulish smile on his deformed face, hefted the stolen green saber into an aggressive position, and surged forward-
A dark figure armed with a glowing blue blade flashed in from the side and collided with the Sith Master, causing them both to topple out of the broken window. Mace stared at the empty space by the window in shock. Then, just as he turned and looked down the steep side of the building, there was a tremendous explosion of energy, wind, and unnatural blue light.
Blown back into the far wall and temporarily blinded, Mace collapsed on the carpeted floor of the office and rubbed at his dazzled eyes with his remaining hand. The Force around him screamed and bucked in chaos. Flashes of Dark and Light exploded like fireworks, rattling with feelings that he couldn’t possibly name or describe.
And then it was quiet. Absolutely quiet. The Force was hazy and…grayish. But quiet, like the stillness after a sudden storm or bomb explosion. Mace had never felt anything remotely like it in his entire life.
“What in the name of the Force just happened?”
Misunderstood V2
...I'm just gonna put this here...
*tosses writing and runs*
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. George Lucas, the flannelled master, did. And now it is one of Disney’s things. I make no money with this. So do not sue.
Author’s Notes: An AU of an AU? That’s madness! But…that’s what this is! So while you don’t have to read the story upon which this story springs (Misunderstood / V2), it would help immensely in understanding where all the characters are coming from, and where they have been.
This tale begins near the very end of Misunderstood / V2, and turns on the question of: What would happen if Anakin had chosen differently on the eve of Order 66?
~***~
Prologue
Altered Path
Anakin had gone to wait in the Jedi Council chamber as Master Windu had ordered him to. But he couldn’t stay there. The atmosphere was too tense, too suffocating.
He’d sat in his chair and waited. But the longer he sat there, the worse he felt. It was like he was being pulled in two different directions at once. And there was a faint scrabbling feeling at the back of his mind, like someone was poking around there, subtlety looking for a way in…
That better not be Sidious, Anakin shivered and tightened the shields on his mind further.
Shaking his head, he stood up and paced around the chamber. It felt so strange to be there, all by himself. With the rapidly approaching dusk casting long shadows and staining everything with fiery golds and oranges…it was like some eerie dream.
Or a nightmare.
What am I doing? he wondered, scuffing his boot over the marble floor. Why am I just sitting here, doing nothing?
He was just sitting here because Master Windu had ordered him to. He was cowering here like a cornered animal because he was afraid. Afraid of what Sidious would do to him. Afraid of dying.
I’m such a coward.
Gnawing at his lower lip, he gazed out at the distant silhouette of Padmé’s apartment tower. He could almost imagine seeing her, staring back at him, from there. His throat felt oddly thick and scratchy and he had to look away.
I can’t stay here.
Unable to stand it, he left the Council chamber and went to the Temple Hanger. There he hopped into one of the Order’s high performance speeders and took off. Perhaps the thrill of going fast, just for the hell of it, would soothe him, help him think…
***
Mace Windu led his colleagues to the Supreme Chancellor’s office at the back of the Senate rotunda. The Shatterpoint, the point at which, depending on what one does, determines the outcome of a conflict, was drawing near. But instead of this being the Shatterpoint of a simple duel, this was the point of turning for the entire war-for the ancient conflict between Jedi and Sith.
If they triumphed here, the war would end, the Sith would be destroyed, and the leadership of the Senate would temporarily fall to the Jedi Council until a new Chancellor could be elected. If they failed, they would all die and the Sith Lord would turn his wrath on the Jedi Order. Whatever happened next would determine which fate befell them and the rest of the galaxy.
He stepped into the Chancellor’s office and headed for the back, where Palpatine sat at his desk. The elderly Chancellor deactivated the holo-terminal that he was sitting at and turned to regard his Jedi visitors with a friendly smile. Mace fought not to tense as the atmosphere in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.
“Master Windu, I take it that General Grievous has been destroyed then?” The Chancellor guessed. “I must say that you’re here sooner than expected.”
“In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic,” Mace declared, lighting his violet lightsaber as the other Masters lit their green and blue ones, “you are under arrest Chancellor.”
“Are you threatening me Master Jedi?” Palpatine growled, suddenly very unfriendly.
“The Senate will decide your fate.” Mace declared sternly as the Force shivered around them all.
“I am the Senate!” Palpatine snarled, standing up.
“Not yet.” Mace retorted.
“It’s treason then.” The Chancellor hissed.
A lightsaber with a gold and black hilt snapped to the Sith’s hand seemingly out of thin air. The old man stroked it with one finger as he glared at the four Jedi before him. And then he lit the blood-red blade.
With an inhuman snarl, the Chancellor abruptly vaulted over his desk in a spinning leap and landed right in front of them. Stabbing forward he instantly skewered and killed Agen Kolar, the Zabrak Master. Before he had even hit the floor, the Sith had turned on the fierce Iktotchi, Saesee Tiin, and killed him as well. Mace and Kit tried to pin the Sith Master between them and attack him from both sides. But the wily old man slipped away from them, slaying Kit Fisto the Nautolan as he went.
Now it was just down to Mace and Palpatine.
Sliding into the deadly and dangerous Form VII, the Vaapad style, Mace continued to duel with the Sith. It was a very dangerous style of lightsaber combat, one that demanded the user to walk a fine line between Light and Dark. And it seemed to be the only thing that helped him succeed where the others had fallen.
He ruthlessly slashed back, always keeping his violet blade moving, striking, like the deadly Vaapad beast the style took its name from. The Chancellor was forced to retreat back towards one of the large wide windows of his office. Their blades shattered the transparisteel, removing the only barrier between them and the howling wind and the streets far below. Mace managed to kick the Sith’s blade from his hand and pin him in the corner of the window.
“You are under arrest, my Lord!” Mace snapped, his blade hovering over Palpatine’s throat. “The oppression of the Sith will never return! You have lost!”
“No!” Palpatine croaked. “No, no! You will die!”
And with that, he unleashed the one of the Sith’s most perverse powers, the deadly Force lightning. Mace was nearly blown off his feet by its power and only just barely interposed his blade in time to avoid being hit directly. Straining, he struggled to reflect the Dark energy back at its source.
The Chancellor howled as stray bolts of his own lightning came back to strike him. With each hit, his face began to change. The skin became discolored; it started to run like melted wax, it peeled away from his bones like rotting flesh. Finally the pain seemed to be too much for him and the lightning stopped abruptly, causing Mace to sway, nearly losing his balance.
“I am going to end this once and for all!” Mace growled, raising his saber to strike.
The Chancellor, though gasping for breath, didn’t seem all that concerned. His sunken yellow eyes briefly darted to the doorway, as if he were expecting someone to arrive any moment. But no one was there, and no one came. He appeared to be…disappointed.
“No,” the Supreme Chancellor snarled, “I shall end this!”
In one fluid motion he called one of the fallen Jedi Masters lightsabers, ignited it, and swung it around to bisect Mace’s wrist. Agony exploded down his seared and severed nerves and he stumbled back a step as his lightsaber hilt sailed down to the distant street. Knocked completely off-balance, Mace clutched at the cauterized stump of his forearm in a daze for precious seconds that he did not have.
The Supreme Chancellor-Darth Sidious-lurched back to his feet with a hungry, ghoulish smile on his deformed face, hefted the stolen green saber into an aggressive position, and surged forward-
A dark figure armed with a glowing blue blade flashed in from the side and collided with the Sith Master, causing them both to topple out of the broken window. Mace stared at the empty space by the window in shock. Then, just as he turned and looked down the steep side of the building, there was a tremendous explosion of energy, wind, and unnatural blue light.
Blown back into the far wall and temporarily blinded, Mace collapsed on the carpeted floor of the office and rubbed at his dazzled eyes with his remaining hand. The Force around him screamed and bucked in chaos. Flashes of Dark and Light exploded like fireworks, rattling with feelings that he couldn’t possibly name or describe.
And then it was quiet. Absolutely quiet. The Force was hazy and…grayish. But quiet, like the stillness after a sudden storm or bomb explosion. Mace had never felt anything remotely like it in his entire life.
“What in the name of the Force just happened?”