The New Star Wars Sequel Trilogy We Actually Deserve — My Full Story Pitch

Let me start with the argument that makes everything else possible.

Every Star Wars story has been a civil war. Republic against Empire. Resistance against Order. Light against dark. The same galaxy, fighting itself, across a hundred generations, in a cycle so old and so total that civilization has stopped asking why it keeps happening and started treating it as the natural order of things.

“It has been here for ten thousand years. It did not invade. It did not conquer. It built a farm. The crop was us.”

It is not the natural order of things.

That’s the premise behind my Dawn Trilogy — my pitch for a Star Wars sequel trilogy set in 55 ABY, twenty years after Exegol. It’s not a retcon of what came before. It’s a recontextualization. A revelation. The answer to the question Star Wars has been asking since 1977 without knowing it was asking.

With Lucasfilm actively developing a post-Rise of Skywalker trilogy under Simon Kinberg, the next chapter of Star Wars is genuinely up for grabs right now. So here’s what I’d want to see — in full.

The Central Argument

The Force Didn’t Create the Cycle. Something Else Did.

Ten thousand years ago, something crossed into our galaxy from somewhere else. It did not arrive with a fleet. It did not announce itself. It found a food source — Force-sensitive beings — and did what any intelligent predator does when it discovers an abundant, renewable resource.

It built a system to sustain the supply.

The Jedi/Sith binary. The endless cycle of light and dark, war and ruin, chosen one and dark lord, generation after generation trained into perfect polarization. Not an accident of history. Not a philosophical tragedy. A feeding architecture. The division of the Force into opposing extremes creates the concentration gradient the predator requires. The cycle keeps running because something ancient and patient has been keeping it running.

That predator is called the Hollow.

The Threat

What the Hollow Is — and Why It’s Moving Now

The Hollow is not a creature. It is not a Sith. It is something that precedes both — a distributed phenomenon in the Force itself, something between a black hole and a disease. Not a presence but an absence that moves. A hole in the Living Force that concentrates, feeds, relocates, and concentrates again.

It cannot be found on a star chart. It has no throne room, no flagship, no physical form to destroy. It is felt as silence — pockets of absolute Force-absence that spread across living things the way cold spreads through a room with a broken seal. Animals go still. Plants stop growing. Force-sensitive beings feel the specific terror of reaching for the Force and finding nothing there.

The Hollow cannot drain an integrated Force user. The unified Force — light and dark held as a single living thing, undivided — flows through its drain the way water flows through a net. It has no surface to catch. The predator requires polarity. This is why it built what it built.

Over millennia, the Hollow seeded the galaxy’s Force traditions with a single architectural idea: that light and dark are permanent, structural, irreconcilable opposites. The Jedi Code’s suppression of emotion. The Sith Rule of Passion. Both traditions, apparently in total opposition, training their practitioners into perfect polarization. Perfect food.

“The right answer to a predator that feeds on division is genuine integration. You cannot fake your way to the solution. You have to actually become it.”

The technique of Force drain filtered down through dark side lineages as coveted, forbidden lore. Darth Plagueis learned it. Palpatine learned from Plagueis. Palpatine’s obsession with Rey’s bloodline, his return at Exegol, his need for a dyad — all of it in service, knowingly or not, of the original architecture. The Hollow’s most successful harvest in a millennium.

So why is it moving now? Because Rey Solana Skywalker’s integrated practice has been healing the structural wound for twenty years. Slowly. Accidentally. But measurably. The crack the Hollow feeds through is closing. And for the first time in ten thousand years, the Hollow is not patient anymore.

It is hungry. And it is fighting back.

The Canon Genealogy

How Everything Already Built Points Here

This is not invented mythology grafted onto Star Wars. Every piece of this architecture is already in the canon, waiting to connect.

The Mortis Arc	The Clone Wars	The Father, Son, and Daughter were the last three Ancients — beings who fled from Peridea, following the Hollow trying to stop it. When they understood the Hollow had already seeded the binary, they made their terrible choice: encode the warning in the Peridea statues and calcify themselves into living symbols. The Son’s darkness and the Daughter’s light are not metaphysical truths. They are a demonstration — a warning carved into two beings forever. Baylan Skoll Ahsoka S1
Baylan Skoll	Ahsoka S1	He felt the Hollow on Peridea. Not the statues — what was beneath them. He stood on the Father’s outstretched arm and felt, for the first time in his Force-trained life, what the Force feels like without the Hollow feeding on it. He died before he could bring that knowledge home. His final transmissions, ignored for forty-six years, contain one phrase: “There is something here that has been in our galaxy longer than the Jedi. It feeds on the Force. I think it has always been here.”
Palpatine’s Return	The Rise of Skywalker	Not retconned. Recontextualized. His obsession with cheating death, with Force drain, with harvesting a dyad — all of it descends from lore that traces back ten thousand years through the Hollow’s influence. He was the most successful practitioner of the technique in a millennium. He may not have known why it worked. That ignorance made him more useful to the Hollow, not less.
The Force Anomaly	Post-Exegol Era	The Force anomaly that Skywalker students are experiencing is not the tradition failing. It is the Hollow increasing its drain in response to the threat — fighting back against the first thing in ten thousand years that has actually endangered its food source. The anomaly is not evidence the Skywalker tradition is failing. It is evidence that it is winning. And winning has consequences.

The Characters

The Engine That Drives Three Films

The World

Skywalkers, Mandalorians, Rountables and Grogu!

The new trilogy would start 55 ABY. The State of the Galaxy When the Trilogy Begins

Twenty years after Exegol, the galaxy is not at war. It is something more precarious than that — a civilization in the slow process of healing that does not yet know something has been feeding on the wound.

The Skywalker Tradition: Real, twenty years old, and under sustained political attack from the Restoration movement. What Rey built is genuine — a new force user practice, not Jedi/Sith, something rooted in integration rather than polarization, slowly and accidentally healing the structural wound the Hollow has fed through for millennia. But the Restoration sees the anomaly and draws the obvious wrong conclusion: that the tradition itself is the problem.

Rey has been watching the anomaly develop and has not panicked. She has been building a case. The case is almost complete.

Mandalorians: The restored Mandalore’s premier gift to the galaxy. Forty years of civil war, Imperial purge, and painful rebuilding have produced something extraordinary: a warrior tradition purified by grief into something genuinely noble. They deploy to crisis points across the galaxy — fast, effective, bound by oath to leave when the crisis ends.

They have begun encountering the Hollowed in the outer rim. They are the only force capable of engaging them without being fed on. They don’t know yet what the Hollowed are. They know that what they’re fighting is wrong in a way that conventional threat assessment cannot capture.

Mand’alor Roundtable: Fifteen Knights, elected by peers, governing by consensus. No seat higher than another. Any warrior who earns the creed may wear the helmet — birth irrelevant, choice absolute.

The Mand’alor, current holder of the new Darksaber, is the galaxy’s most experienced active commander and its most reluctant politician. She has been sending reports about the Hollowed to the New Republic for four months. The reports have been categorized as outer rim anomalies.

Grogu: The living bridge between traditions. Young for his species, old enough for quiet wisdom. Serves as informal liaison between the Skywalker academies and the Mandalorian Round Table — not through rank, simply because he is trusted by both and claimed by neither.

He has been feeling the Hollow longer than anyone. He does not have the words for it in any language he speaks. Which is part of why he has been so quiet lately.

The Films

Three Acts, One Architecture

Film I
The Fracture
Something ancient is feeding on the Force. It has been feeding for ten thousand years. And the one tradition built to stop it — without knowing that’s what it was doing — is about to find out what it has been fighting all along.

The Hollowed appear first in the outer rim. Mandalorian Knights encounter three of them — former Force sensitives, drained empty, moving toward a community of untrained Force-sensitive children. Beskar holds. The Mand’alor files her fourth report to the New Republic. It is categorized as an outer rim anomaly.

Nessa, in the intelligence archive on Coruscant, has spent seven years reading those reports alongside Baylan Skoll’s forty-six-year-old transmissions alongside Force anomaly data from the Skywalker academies. The connection: the Hollowed are beings whose Force connection has been drained to the point of inversion. Baylan described something that feeds on the Force. The anomaly is elevated drain on every Force-sensitive in the galaxy. This is not three separate phenomena. This is one thing, operating at three different scales.

Kyle enters through violence — a protection contract at the archive station, hit by the Hollowed mid-briefing. He keeps Nessa alive through two corridors of absolute Force-silence that should have paralyzed him. She notices his hands are shaking afterward. Not from fear. From the effort of pretending he doesn’t feel what he feels.

Film I ends on three ships in formation, jumping to the Unknown Regions. The window is not infinite.

Film II
Peridea
The warning was encoded in stone by people who died trying to deliver it. The predator that killed their world followed them here. It has had ten thousand years to prepare. Now someone finally came to read the warning.

Peridea is dead in a specific way. Not old-dead — the gradual entropy of a dying world. Consumed-dead. Kyle experiences it as the most familiar feeling he’s had in years: the specific cold of the First Order’s conditioning camps, where Force-sensitive children were suppressed until they stopped reaching. He recognizes what happened to this world because a version of it happened to him. He does not say this out loud. He walks faster.

The record in the statues: the Hollow crossed from the Peridea galaxy — where it had already fed the Ancients’ civilization to extinction. The last Ancients followed it here trying to stop it. They discovered it had already seeded the binary. They made their terrible choice: encode the warning and calcify themselves into living archetypes, hoping the intensity of their sacrifice would eventually reach someone who could act on it. Nobody came. Not for ten thousand years.

The Last Voice emerges — not as an attacker, but as a presence. She has been here seventeen years. She read the record. Her solution: remove the Force from the living world entirely. Kyle argues with her, not philosophically. He argues the way a man argues when he has lived the thing being discussed: he was made by an institution that made the same calculation. Remove the parts of people that could resist, and nothing could use those parts against them. It didn’t make them safe. It made them empty. And empty things get used by whoever shows up next.

“The Force is that corner. For everyone. You don’t take that away from people to protect them from something that wants it. You teach them to hold it in a way that starves the thing.”

Film II ends on the jump home. The record transmitted and received. The Hollow’s response escalating on twenty worlds. Kyle with his hands open in the hold of the ship, the Force moving through him without resistance for the first time in his life, and absolutely nothing on his face about how that feels.

Film III
First Light
The predator has been here for ten thousand years. It survives on a divided galaxy. Give it a whole one.

The Hollow’s full offensive: Hollowed on forty worlds. Pockets of Force-absence spreading through major population centers. The Mandalorian Knights deploy everywhere simultaneously. The Round Table meets in continuous session. Grogu — 55 years old and never more himself — moves between Skywalker students and Mandalorian units, not fighting, not commanding, simply present in the specific way that steadies people.

The Restoration’s Senate motion passes final reading. The Skywalker academies are ordered closed. Nessa, reviewing the Restoration’s funding sources, finds something in the archive that makes her very still: the oldest money behind the Restoration movement traces to a lineage of dark side lore brokers stretching back centuries. The Hollow’s cultivation of the binary was not purely metaphysical. It had human agents. Most of them don’t know this. Fear was always the easiest thing to cultivate.

Rey’s decision: she dissolves the academies herself. Before the Senate vote is enacted. Publicly, formally, with a statement that strips the Skywalker name from every institutional structure she built over twenty years. Then she does the second thing. She teaches. Not classes. Not students. She finds people — one at a time, in the middle of a crisis — who are feeling the Force for the first time because the Hollow’s offensive is paradoxically making Force sensitivity visible in beings who never knew they had it. She passes it person to person the way you pass a candle: not diminished by the sharing, multiplied by it.

The crack closes. The Hollow’s feeding gradient collapses. You cannot drain an integrated Force user. When there are enough of them — distributed, informal — there is nothing left to feed on. The Hollow does not die. It withdraws. Back through whatever breach it entered through ten thousand years ago.

Not defeated. Starved.

Why It Works

The Right Thing and the Winning Thing Are the Same Act

The Hollow transforms every philosophical choice in the trilogy into a tactical necessity. Rey dissolving the academies is both philosophically right and the mechanism of victory. Kyle’s raw, unschooled Force sensitivity is both his defining character wound and the trilogy’s most important tactical asset. The Mandalorian tradition of choice-over-inheritance is both moral and the only thing that can hold the line while the wound closes.

The two traditions — Skywalker and Mandalorian — are built on the same foundation, arriving from different ruins at the same place: choice over inheritance, code over power, service over dominance. The Hollow could not have anticipated this. It built a galaxy organized around Force supremacy. The idea that the galaxy’s protection would be anchored by people with no Force sensitivity at all, working alongside Force users who had dissolved their own institutional power, is the precise configuration it has no answer for.

The galaxy didn’t fight the predator. It became indigestible.

That is the trilogy’s central argument, and it earns every beat along the way.

If you want to see this made — share it, talk about it, keep the conversation going. The next Star Wars trilogy is being written right now. The best version of it starts with an honest answer to the question the franchise has been circling for fifty years.

Why does the cycle keep happening? and what can Star Wars be post Skywalker?