r/StarWarsWhatIf • u/ErosDarlingAlt • 7d ago
What if Sidious sent a young Vader to investigate a powerful Force anomaly on Coruscant?
Disclaimer: 0% AI usage
The evening sky above Coruscant was a bruised violet, choked by the endless smog of the Imperial capital. High above the jagged cityscape, a lone, sleek Theta-class shuttle cut through the haze, descending toward the massive, mountainous silhouette of the former Jedi Temple. The four towering spires that once symbolised Republic peace and justice now jutted like broken teeth against the horizon, stripped of their ancient elegance and ready to become the Emperor's new Imperial Palace.
Inside the cockpit, the atmosphere was silent save for the mechanical rhythm of a life-support system.
Shhhkt-khhh. Shhhkt-khhh.
Darth Vader stared through the carmine tint of the shuttle's viewport. His master had felt it first - a sudden, blinding ripple of light cutting through the oppressive dark side shroud that enveloped the planet. An anomaly. His Inquisitorius had been dispatched to lesser disturbances - often to great effect - but this tremor was different. It possessed a weight, an ancient resonance that made the Emperor’s holographic projection tremble with a rare and venomous caution. "Go, Lord Vader. Find the source of this disturbance... and erase it."
The shuttle touched down on the lower hangar deck, a cavernous bay where Republic gunships had once deployed during the Clone Wars. Now it was just a hollow vault, housing nothing but broken-down ships, dust and shadows. Vader stepped off the ramp alone, his heavy black cape trailing across the floor. If a Force user of this calibre had bypassed the orbital security grids and planetary sensors, standard troops would merely get in the way. This was a task for a Sith.
He walked into the grand corridors, his heavy synth-leather boots echoing against the cracked marble tiles. Everywhere he looked, the walls bore scars of his own creation. Blaster marks from the 501st Legion’s carbines, and deep, dark gouges in the pillars where lightsabers had clashed during the Jedi purge. With every step he took toward the central archives, the Force grew heavier, pressing against his awareness. The Temple had always been a nexus of power, but right now, that power was churning, pulling, drawing him upward toward the high spires. It wasn't the frantic, panicked signature of a desperate survivor (a signature he had become familiar with). It was calm. Still. Centered.
A memory tried to break through the iron walls of his mind; a memory of many figures sitting on council chairs, watching him with ancient, judgemental eyes. Vader violently crushed the thought, channeling the sudden spike of anger into the dark side, feeding the fire in his veins.
Anakin Skywalker was dead. And whoever was waiting at the top of the spire was about to join him.
----------
The deeper Vader marched into the skeletal remains of the temple, the more the air began to thin, replaced by a suffocating stillness. His respirator started to compensate as he passed the Archives, its towering data shelves now dark, gutted by Imperial censors who had burned centuries of Jedi lies and propaganda. He bypassed the training halls where he had spent years honing his skills. Where he had cut down the younglings. He did not allow his optical sensors to linger on the scorched floors.
He approached the base of the high spire, the path leading toward the High Council Chamber. To a normal being, the climb would be an exhausting ascent up hundreds of winding stone steps. For Vader, it was a welcome test of his new cybernetics. The months following the Purge had given him time to adapt and improve this new body. His heavy, mechanical legs thumped rhythmically against the stone, servos working hard to lift his bulk.
The air shifted further as he rose, but not physically. The dark side energy that naturally pooled within the temple’s foundation - the corrupting current of the ancient Sith shrine buried far beneath - mingled with a wall of absolute, unyielding clarity. It was like stepping from a swamp into a freezing mountain stream.
Vader stopped, gripping the stone bannister with a black-gloved hand. The signature in the Force was no longer a vague tremor. As he drew closer to the spire’s peak, the energy crystallised into something familiar. It was a presence he had known nearly his entire life, one that had evaluated him as a boy from Tatooine, guided him through the bloody battlefields of the Clone Wars, and ultimately despaired at his fall. A presence his Master believed had crawled into a hole in the outer rim to die.
Yoda.
The realisation hit Vader with an intoxicating surge of absolute malice. The Emperor had spoken of the Grandmaster as a broken relic, a despondent coward fleeing the dawn of the Sith Order. Yet here he was, sitting at the very heart of the Empire, completely unhindered by the darkness surrounding him. How? Vader’s respirator hitched, a brief, sharp wheeze breaking its mechanical rhythm. Just a blip with the mechanics, the operation of his replacement lungs was entirely involuntary. The Sith Lord told himself as such.
The ultimate prize of the Jedi purge was sitting just past the next threshold. To kill Yoda was to permanently sever the final, strongest thread tying him to Anakin Skywalker. It would be the ultimate offering to his Master, and the ultimate proof of his own supremacy. He released his grip on the bannister, and continued his ascent. He wanted the ancient creature to feel his approach, for Yoda to feel the crushing weight of what he had become.
With his cape billowing behind him like the wings of a predatory bird, Darth Vader stepped onto the final landing, the threshold of the chamber waiting ahead.
Few things now could move the Dark Lord of the Sith to an emotion beyond anger, but seeing the doors to the Council Chamber, suffocating in dust and shadow, stirred something within him still. But the towering monolith of black armour, stepping through slivers of pale moonlight penetrating the crumbling ceiling, cared nothing for this coffin of memories - only for the creature that hid inside, waiting in the dark. He commanded the doors to open, and they did.
Shhhkt-khhh. Shhhkt-khhh.
The respirator whirred rhythmically in his chest, a steady reminder that he was no longer the young hero that once proudly walked these halls. He felt the presence grow, pressing heavily against his subconscious. With a hiss, his crimson lightsaber ignited, casting a bloody wash over the cracked stone floor. Across the chamber, a tiny, familiar silhouette sat cross-legged, levitating nearly two feet off the floor.
"Grandmaster Yoda." Vader said with the slightest hint of mock reverence, his voice reverberating around the room. Slowly, the Jedi sank to the floor, unfolding his legs to stand. He did not speak while he unclipped the lightsaber from his belt. The brilliant emerald blade snapped to life, illuminating the deep, weathered wrinkles of his ancient face. He did not assume a defensive guard, but simply held the weapon low, his large ears twitching as he felt the crushing weight of Vader's malice filling the room.
"Blinded by the dark side, you are, Skywalker," Yoda's gravelly rasp echoed through the cavernous hall. "Consumed you, it has. Yet, nothing but pain, do I feel."
Anger, cold and sharp, flared beneath the Sith Lord's mask. "Anakin Skywalker is dead," Vader boomed, the vocal synthesizer stripping away any trace of humanity. "I am what remains. And I have surpassed your teachings, old man."
"Test that claim, we shall," Yoda murmured.
Vader closed the distance almost instantly. He brought his blade down in a brutal, two-handed overhead strike, channeling every ounce of his strength into the blow. It was designed to shatter the fragile Grandmaster's bones right through his weapon. But his blade struck nothing but empty air.
The world suddenly became a blur of emerald light as Yoda launched himself skywards, channeling the Force to overcome the limits of his withered body. He was a tempest. Crack. Crack. Crack. Three lightning-fast strikes rained down on Vader from different angles, before the Sith Lord could even adjust his stance. Vader pivoted, forcing his heavy limbs to react. He snapped his blade into a defensive block, anchoring his heavy boots to the floor. If Yoda was a storm, he was a fortress.
But the small creature's speed was infuriating. Yoda bounced off the stone, spun low, and lashed out at Vader’s shins. Vader leapt back, cape billowing, and countered with a massive horizontal sweep. Yoda flipped cleanly over the red beam, landing with infuriating grace on the tip of a fallen pillar.
Vader saw that the ancient Master was treating him like a lumbering beast. He does not the true power of the Dark Side.
"Your technique is a relic, the hallmark of a dying era," Vader growled, raising his left glove and clenching it into a fist. He seized the Force, wrapping an invisible, suffocating grip around the Grandmaster’s throat. In the same instant, he ripped a massive chunk of stone from the floorboards and hurled it directly at the hovering Jedi.
But Yoda merely closed his eyes.
The telekinetic hold shattered as Yoda's raw willpower pushed back against the Sith Lord's malice. Extending a small green hand, Yoda stopped the incoming boulder dead in mid-air, inches from his face. With a sharp flick of his wrist, it came hurtling back at Vader with shocking velocity. He snapped his blade up, shearing the rock in two, but the resulting explosion of dust and pulverised stone blinded his optical sensors for a critical fraction of a second. In that moment of blindness, Yoda took his chance.
The Jedi Grandmaster was everywhere. He became a green cyclone, using the walls, the pillars, and even the very plates of Vader's armour as springboards. He struck from impossible angles, and Vader's mechanical joints groaned with the effort of tracking the erratic trajectory. Darth Vader was forced into a desperate, humiliating retreat.
Sh-kht. Sh-kht. Vader's respirator grew frantic, struggling to feed oxygen to his ruined lungs under the relentless weight of the assault, and his vision began to blur.
Obi-Wan came into his mind's eye then, his face contorted by pathetic emotion, looking down at Anakin's burning body, leaving him to die, to be destroyed. This suit had made him slow, unrefined, clumsy. With a terrible surge of fury, he realised that he had underestimated Yoda. This was a living avatar of the Force - much like his new master. He would not suffer a loss like this. Never again.
Fuelled by a wave of pure, pounding rage, Vader reached into the deepest wells of his hatred, and unleashed a raw, omnidirectional shockwave of dark side energy. The blast cracked the surrounding walls and floor around them, finally halting the ancient creature's assault, throwing him backward. Yoda skidded across the floor, his claws scratching lines in the stone.
Yoda was breathing heavily now. Vader could sense the physical exhaustion rolling off him, the toll of his acrobatic style was catching up to him. Vader raised his hand again, intending to bury his opponent under a barrage of lethal Force attacks and rubble. But Yoda didn't move. He planted his feet, and extended both hands toward the oncoming torrent, calling on the Force once again.
The crushing dark energy Vader hurled struck an invisible, absolute wall. He watched in disbelief as the Grandmaster absorbed the impact, his green eyes flashing with a brilliant, unyielding light. With an almighty shout, Yoda redirected the stolen momentum straight back at the Sith Lord. The invisible shockwave slammed into Vader's chest panel, the sheer force lifting his massive frame off the ground. He was thrown backward through the air, crashing heavily through a collapsed pillar, and into the wall. His lightsaber flew from his grip, and extinguished against the floor.
Sparks showered from his damaged right shoulder joint. His chest panel blinked erratically, high-pitched error tones ringing in his audio receptors. He struggled, then failed to stand, his cybernetic legs failing to lock, servos whining. He looked up through his red-tinted lenses. Yoda stood a few paces away. His blade was perfectly still, hovering inches from the black mask. His breathing was deep, but he stood firm. He had beaten Vader's guard. He had won.
For a long, agonising moment, the only sound was the broken, wheezing hiss of the damaged respirator. Yoda looked down at his former student's corrupted shell. Through the Force, an overwhelming wave of profound sadness washed over him. Slowly, the Grandmaster deactivated his weapon and clipped it back to his belt. "Surpassed this old man, you have not, Vader," Yoda spoke softly, turning his back to walk away into the shadows of the ruined temple. "Spare you this day, the Force does. But save you from yourself, it cannot."
Vader lay there among the dust and memories, smoke rising from his useless armour. Trapped in a dark prison of his own making, as the footsteps faded away.