By Troy Denning
There could be no surrender.
There might be no mercy.
It’s not only the way forward for the galaxy at stake—
It’s the future of the Force.
In the beautiful finale of the epic destiny of the Jedi sequence, Jedi and Sith face off—with Coruscant as their battlefield. For the Sith, it’s the opportunity to revive their dominance over the galaxy that forgot them for therefore lengthy. For Abeloth, it’s an incredible step in her quest to beat all existence far and wide. For Luke Skywalker, it’s a decision to hands to get rid of the Sith and their vast new grasp as soon as and for all.
In a planetwide strike, groups of Jedi Knights take the Sith infiltrators by means of quick and deadly shock. yet victory opposed to the crafty and savage Abeloth, and the terrifying endgame she has deliberate, is whatever yet definite. And as Luke, Ben, Han, Leia, Jaina, Jag, and their allies shut in, the devastating fact concerning the darkish facet incarnate might be exposed—and ship surprise waves throughout the Jedi Order, the galaxy, and the strength itself.
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Extra resources for Apocalypse (Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi, Book 9)
Go ahead, brother. " The voice broke my gloomy reverie. I turned to see another greenie, standing off to one side of the trail. Archies and their families ignored him as they passed, though he brandished a placard flowing with bright letters: Compassion is color-blind. Look at me. I exist. I feel. The ditto grinned, meeting my gaze and gesturing toward Moonlight Beach. "Go on down there," he urged. "I can tell, you want to make them see you. " I've noticed more of these creatures lately. Agitators for a cause that leaves most people mystified – at once both echoing past righteous struggles and trivializing them.
Our meeting concerns sensitive topics, better discussed elsewhere," she explains, handing me a cowled robe like her own. " If I were real, I might worry. Could the maestra be planning some ornate revenge for my breezy behavior toward her earlier? But then, so what? I'm just a ditto. I put the robe on and follow. A small service elevator takes us down, back to the low-rent floors of the old mall. Doors open and my guide heads straight for a nondescript storefront with opaque windows, bearing the name RENEWAL ASSOCIATES.
Go! Maestra hates it when you're late. Studio Neo, just ahead. Charming place. It fills what used to be a huge windowless urban mall. Nowadays shopping is either a chore – you ask House to arrange deliveries – or else you do it for pleasure, strolling in person along tree-lined avenues like Realpeople Lane, where balmy venturi breezes flow all year round. Either way, it's hard to picture why our parents did it in sunless grottos. A fluorescent-lit catacomb is no proper world for human beings. So now malls are set aside for the new servant class.