By Jude Watson
The 8th booklet within the exciting sequence from the recent York instances best-selling writer of Jedi Quest and Jedi Apprentice.
As the Empire's energy grows, rebels face a call: supply in...or struggle. a few shape resistance on battleground planets. a few move undercover, attempting to struggle the Empire from inside of. And others watch and wait.
For Ferus Olin, hatred of the Empire is own. The issues which were closest to him were destroyed. The Jedi Order he as soon as belonged to has been decimated. And the long run isn't having a look a lot brighter...unless a real uprising should be born.
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Extra info for Against the Empire (Star Wars: Last of the Jedi, Book 8)
I didn’t know what jiggered meant, didn’t even know it was a verb, but I could see the horse machine behind him, the small cutout jockeys moving in a kind of jagged unison towards a cardboard finishing post. I would have loved to have been able to jigger them, a process I could only imagine meant manipulating their progress in some way so the jackpot of coins would spill into the brass cup. ‘Ask him where his blazer is? ’ Three jiggers, I thought. Which one of them was I? ’ ‘And your last,’ he said and I was once again pushed through a set of glass doors, which he held closed with his boot behind them.
Here was another whose actions had been impinging on my own; whose actions, I could even say, in the manner of the new mathematics which we were all studying then, were tangential to mine. If I was a set he was my subset or vice versa. There was another life he was heading towards, a destination unknown on a bus I didn’t know, but it all felt frighteningly familiar because of the shape of the nape of his neck and the hair above his turned-up collar. It was strange, the bald heads and caps and the clouds of tobacco smoke, the unfamiliar streetlamps passing by the windows, and it was familiar in a way I couldn’t even now define.
I could hear 2 2 2 2 34 26 MISTAKEN the cries of children from Fairview Park. I could hear the number 30 bus grinding towards the city centre. Everything changes and nothing changed at all. 35 Hawaii A n old lady had lived next door, Mrs. Considine, who wore tweed suits and carried a walking stick, and of course to my child’s mind she was the vampire’s caretaker, looking after the house for him in the daytime when daylight things needed to be done. Cleaning, I supposed, and the business of making sure the curtains kept out the sunlight.