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What was Lucas's original Plan for Ep. 7?


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It’s completely ridiculous to say that people don’t “get it’s place” when we’re talking about fictional stories.  It’s like arguing over which King Arthur legends are real. 

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Oop the record appears to be stuck again          

I would like to point out that George could easily give 10 completely different takes on what his idea really was, and be completely sure on each one.

There's really good actors, like Ewan McGregor, who can sell any POS you drop in their lap.   There's bad actors, obviously.   But there's some actors who are only as good as their directors. I've see

20 minutes ago, Fozzie said:

It’s completely ridiculous to say that people don’t “get it’s place” when we’re talking about fictional stories.  It’s like arguing over which King Arthur legends are real. 

Disney put the EU in it's place. 

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13 minutes ago, Fozzie said:

Doesn’t really matter how it feels to me. The world is big enough for lots of different interests. Even people who like TLJ.

I don't think that's being disputed.  And TLJ rulzzzz. 

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5 hours ago, Fozzie said:

It’s completely ridiculous to say that people don’t “get it’s place” when we’re talking about fictional stories.  It’s like arguing over which King Arthur legends are real. 

Obviously only the movie versions. 

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I had always hoped that the slate would get wiped with the EU.  I was thinking about them doing this when the prequels were coming out.   It's just too convoluted and silly.   Sorry, Z.   It made way too much sense to wipe it clean and do a better job of linearity and timeliness, which I'm sure is going to get messed up all over again.  

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I used to argue this constantly during the PT days when EU fans would insist upon using EU facts to predict what was going to happen in the next movies. It doesn't matter how shared, or how continuity friendly a SW screen entry is, it will never, EVER have a plot point that would require an audience member to have read a book before watching.

What we just saw with Bo Kataran is the perfect example. She explained who she was and what she was doing to Mando, and by proxy, an audience member who had no idea who she was. She brings up the darksaber, which they had already show last season. Knowing her story from SW/Rebels is bonus material, but not required to understand her. I'm sure Ahsoka will be much the same in the next episode.

I'm sure Arndt tried to do this with his EU friendly version of TFA, but so much had happened in the EU it was an impossible task. To catch up an audience member not familiar witht he books what has happened to look in the 30 years since ROTJ would have been a super awkward ten minute scene of exposition.

You just can't do that., You will lose your audience. This is storytelling 101. The person most guilty of breaking this rule, ironically, is Lucas. He had more ties to EU stuff than anyone-- but not in the way that he was referencing what had been written. In his case he was just so sloppy with plot threads that the EU was there to pick up the slack and explain things. I guess in that way, JJ Abrams really was the natural choice to be our surrogate George, even if Filoni is better at it.

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12 hours ago, Jedigoat said:

I had always hoped that the slate would get wiped with the EU.  I was thinking about them doing this when the prequels were coming out.   It's just too convoluted and silly.   Sorry, Z.   It made way too much sense to wipe it clean and do a better job of linearity and timeliness, which I'm sure is going to get messed up all over again.  

Yeah, and they effed it up royally right from the start. That's why I predict another reboot in about ten years time.

Let's address an elephant in the room: Star Wars has always been on the campy side. One need look no further than the cantina scene in A New Hope or Jabba's palace in Return of the Jedi. In my estimation, the EU is generally right on point when it comes to tone. Not only that, but this level of camp has been interpreted differently by so many different people. Some see Star Wars as a kids' franchise, which is why early Marvel adventures and other kids' books like the infamous Jedi Prince series are so ridiculous, because that was how the authors saw Star Wars. Other writers like Zahn, Stackpole, Lucino, Stover, et al saw Star Wars in a little more grown-up light, writing stories with a much more serious tone yet not departing from the campy feel of the original Trilogy. This is honestly how I see it as well, and as a result the Star Wars fan fiction I like to write tends to be on the more on the mystical side, slightly over-the-top yet not at all lighthearted in tone. Honestly, many of Filoni's plots followed this formula as well. (I will copy a rough draft of a chapter of a book I've been working on off-and-on below, for anyone who might care to take a look at it.)

That is why it is my opinion that the people producing the new films really don't understand Star Wars. Tank, you aren't wrong about the nature of the EU and Lucas' relationship with it, but in my opinion, he unwittingly created this amazing sandbox for others to play in, and for some of them to do a better job than he did. I know you don't share my opinion of the EU, but I do recall your brief dabble into it a few years ago where you came to the conclusion that, while it wasn't your cup of tea, you now appreciated its place in Star Wars and even understood why I enjoy it more than the films themselves (though someone else would later erroneously conclude that the films aren't special to me; nothing can be further from the truth). This "convoluted" universe was largely consistent and the first time a franchise had ever attempted something like that in history, which is why I say that wiping it away was the day Star Wars lost its soul.

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Here's the story snippet I wrote, if anyone cares to take a look. If not, I understand; I'm not your dad.

It involves an EU character (Arden Lyn) whose story we know from supplemental material yet has never actually been fleshed out in proper prose from. Please forgive any typos or generally poor or dry narration. As I said, it is only a rough draft, in the "just-get-it-out" phase, without any polishing that comes later.

Dalia Divsson is a Tuckerization of Lisa Davidson, an original character based on a girl I used to get along with a few jobs back. I wrote her into the story with her permission. All the other characters were from the roleplaying game guides I've researched. I made Lerenga into a bit of a perv.

Anyway, here's my example of the type of camp that is what Star Wars is all about:








 

The ancient, dilapidated structure loomed ahead, the stone Lerenga mentioned sitting to the side of the open doorway amid newly-freed dust.

“All right,” Lerenga said, “this is it.”

“Wow,” Dalia said, that uneasiness creeping up her spine.

“You still got that crystal?” She nodded. “Good. Hang onto it. I got a feeling it’s related.” He seemed to stretch his back before approaching the door. “All right, let’s go.”

Lerenga ducked through the door. Dalia stayed put, her heavy breath producing an abundance of clouds in the cold night air.

Lerenga turned back when he realized she wasn’t behind him. “Well, what are you waiting for, lass? Let’s go!”

“Sona,” she breathed uneasily. She gulped. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Lerenga marched right back through the doorway and stopped before Dalia. She took a nervous step back as he towered over here. “What are you worried about, babe? It’s a bloody tomb! Everything in there is dead!

“I know, it’s just . . .” She searched for an excuse. “We’re not supposed to be out here. What if we get busted?”

Lerenga took her chin between those coarse fingers of his. Her discomforted intensified tenfold. “You only live once, love,” he told her, those wild eyes piercing her soul.

He released Dalia’s chin and ducked back through the door, then turned back with a smirk. “Heh. Think I’ll tell that to whoever’s in here.” With that, Sona Lerenga disappeared into the darkness.

For a long while Dalia wondered what to do. Should she wait for Lerenga to return? Should she return to the ship? She paced indecisively, hugging herself for warmth. This was so stupid! She was a model scout, obeying orders, never going off on crazy adrenaline binges like Lerenga. There was absolutely no reason to throw away a promising career because of some crazy man’s need for adventure.

Then it was decided. Lerenga was on his own. It wasn’t like he ever cared about her wellbeing, so why should she worry about his? She turned to from the cave to set out for the ship.

“What are you doing out here?”

Dalia gasped as she nearly ran into Captain Meahonon, her heart skipping a beat. The taller woman furrowed her heavy brow at her angrily, her hands on her hips.

Dalia composed herself and noticed Talke just behind the captain.

“I-it’s Lerenga, Captain,” Dalia managed. “He dragged me out here. I didn’t want to come.”

The captain breathed through flared nostrils. “Where is he?”

“He went into the cave,” she gestured behind her with her head.

Meahonon studied the entrance, looking over Dalia’s head. She turned and nodded at Talke, who nodded back.

“Prep the ship for takeoff,” the captain said at last. “We’re leaving.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Dalia replied.

Meahonon passed Dalia into the cave as Talke followed behind her. She obeyed the order and made for the ship.


*            *            *


Lerenga ducked under another low ceiling. In the dim, bluish light of his glowrod he could discern that this was not a natural cave, but a passage dug a very long time ago. That much was obvious from the smooth portions of the walls and ceiling, which had collapsed and distorted over the millennia. This was definitely a place of significance at one time, though it was impossible to tell how long it had been. Your average observer would have never suspected anything abnormal about the vegetation-covered hillside, but Lerenga was not your average observer. If this was truly a tomb as he suspected, he may have stumbled onto something big. There was surely a sizeable reward waiting for him.

Yes, it was very possible his life was about to change. He winced at the idea of wasting away the rest of his military career in the Survey Corps, and his wasn’t getting any younger.

Or maybe he was chasing after nothing, and discipline awaited him for defying the captain’s orders. Oh well. The Survey Corps carried enough indignity, so he really had nothing to lose. The Empire probably wouldn’t even take the Captain’s report too seriously, anyway. At most, he was looking at a strongly-worded letter.

Lerenga creeped deeper into the cave, rounding a long bend and nearly tripping over some rocks, and catching himself against the wall.

“Frack it all!” he screamed, his voice echoing down the length of the ancient corridor.

Collecting himself, he shined the light ahead, illuminating tiny alien rodents scurrying away into their holes.

He cleared his throat as he advanced. The corridor seemed to be widening, the air growing staler as the aroma of mildew dominated his nostrils. This place was bigger than he thought. What other lost secrets might this world hide?

His mind went back to that weird black crystal. He felt around in his pockets before realizing he left it with the girl.

Ah, Divsson. She was a tasty little thing. He salivated at the way she looked in her leggings when she did her exercises. She was tiny, but fit, and probably flexible in all the right ways.

Well, if this unexpected expedition produced anything worth bragging about, maybe she and he could celebrate in his cabin tonight.

Lerenga ducked under another low ceiling and immerged into a semi-large chamber. He shined the light all around, marveling at what remained of the architecture. The ceiling may have been domed at one point, though now it was a network of uneven curves with large portions missing, glazed over by cobwebs. Arachnids scurried to and fro.

He lowered the light, taking in the barren, eroded walls, wondering what sort of art and writings may have adorned them so many years ago. The ground was covered in debris that had undoubtedly been part of the walls and ceiling in the past.

Then the light fell upn something in the middle of the room. Something big. Something carved by hand. Excitement washing over him, Lerenga came closer. Was this what he thought it was?

As he reached the mystery object, he glided the lamp over the surface. A vaguely humanoid shape adorned the surface, though it had eroded greatly. Brushing away dust from where the face had once been, Lerenga gasped as his suspicion was confirmed.

This was a sarcophagus.


*            *            *


Arden’s spirit stirred within the crystal. The connection she maintained with her dead body told her something was amiss. There were . . . presences. One stood near her corpse while two others approached. Someone was disturbing her remains.

How were those accursed Jedi desecrating her now? Was it not enough to take her life? Now they meant to bask in their triumph, in whatever sick way they had in mind. Would they carry her back to Ossus? Would they parade her through the streets of Coruscant?

She could not allow this; she had to intervene. Her meditations had paid off—she was now strong enough to complete the ritual she had begun just before death by resurrecting herself. Finally, after however many hours or days it had taken, she was ready. She just needed to be a little closer.

Perhaps the person who carried the Soul of Kashi would serve her needs?

Arden reached inside her being and released all the energy she had, permeating through the very fabric of the crystal.


*            *            *


The engine was running and the new hyperspace route had been programmed into the navicomputer. They were all set for takeoff.

Now all Dalia had to do was wait. All three of her comrades were off in that creepy tomb, the captain and Talke chasing after Lerenga. He was sure to get it this time.

Served him right. The guy was such a creep. The way he always eyed her down as she exercised made her shiver, and the way he talked to her with such lusty eyes made her skin crawl.

She could not wait to request that transfer. For now, Dalia leaned back in the pilot’s chair and waited for the crew to return.

That was when she heard it, a faint ringing from somewhere nearby. Where was it coming from?

Dalia stood up and began to follow the noise. She searched all around the cockpit but found nothing. She walked down the corridor, looking this way and that for the source. It grew louder as she approached the rear of the ship until finally—it couldn’t be—she heard the sound clearly emanating from her own cabin.

She entered cautiously, flipping on the lights. She looked around the room, breathing through her nerves. Gingerly, she followed the noise to her bunk. Kneeling, she put her face to the floor and looked beneath the bed to discover the only possible source: her backpack.

Retrieving the pack by one of the straps, Dalia pulled it out and undid the buckles, pulling the zippers apart until she was able to hold the pack wide open. What she saw made her heart race.

The crystal. Formerly black as coal, now it pulsated with a purple glow, producing a high-pitched screech that hurt her ears.

She quickly zipped the pack back up and buckled it, muffling the noise to a tolerable level. What had she just seen? This was not normal.

Composing herself, she realized that the captain needed to know about this, and something inside her told her it could not wait for her return. This thing could not leave this world. It needed to stay behind, buried and forgotten.

Dalia grabbed the pack and climber to her feet, slipping her arms through the straps and securing the buckle across her abdomen. She ran to the hanger, hit the release, and ran down the ramp as it descended. She jumped to the ground before the ramp made contact and ran, heading for the cave.

Reaching the opening, she caught her breath and produced a glowrod from her jacket. Activating the light, she took a deep breath before stepping into the creepy cave, instantly haunted by that terrible noise from her pack echoing in the closed quarters.


*            *            *


Lerenga felt his age as he became increasingly winded with each push, but he was making progress, doing his best with the dim light shining up from the ground where he had placed the glowrod. He didn’t think the lid would budge, but he managed to slide it back several inches until he could feel an opening in the top corner.

Panting in the stale air, he decided to take a break, retrieving the lamp as he did his best to peer through the crevice, shining the light directly down. He could make out several tiny pieces of something, ostensibly bones, but he did not have enough visibility. He dropped the light and resumed pushing the ancient stone lid.

After what seemed like an eternity, he had more space to work with. He could probably get enough leverage to lift the thing off.

Lerenga removed his soaked hat, unleashing the flood of sweat down his face. He wiped it away with his sleeve.

Lerenga!

Startled at the familiar female voice echoing through the chambers, Lerenga spun around to behold Captain Meahonon ducking through the corridor, her glowrod illuminating the furious look about her face.

“Ma’am,” Lerenga saluted. He was in for it now.

Meahonon rose to full height as the stepped into the chamber. Talke climbed through just behind.

“Lieutenant,” Meahonon growled, “you disobeyed a direct order. I’m not sure what you think you’re doing here, but you are coming with us. Now.”

“Just wait a minute, Captain,” Lerenga pleaded. “I did what I did with good reason.”

Meahonon pointed her chin up, waiting for the explanation.

“You remember that crystal we found? I think it’s part of something really big here. This is a tomb—a really old tomb. I think there’s something very significant here. Something very ancient.”

“Tombs are not an unusual phenomenon, Lieutenant,” the captain scolded.

“But Ma’am, think of where we are. We’re in the Unknown Regions. We may have stumbled upon something of use to the Empire. They’ll reward us!”

Meahonon said nothing.

“You just need to keep my actions here out of the report,” Lerenga continued. “I’m not just trying to save my own skin here; I’m trying to frame this in a way that we’ll all be heroes. Just imagine: we stumbled upon this tomb, and that artifact. You ordered us to investigate. We found something big. Or we found nothing. We have nothing to lose, but everything to gain.”

The captain mulled it over.

“You’d better be right,” she said at last. “What is that?”

“This,” Lerenga said, indicating the coffin, “is a burial site. I’m trying to get it open. Can I have some help?”

Meahonon signaled to Talke. The latter joined Lerenga as the two of them stood side-by-side, each getting a grip on the lid. Together, they pushed until the lid slid off and tumbled to the ground beyond, crumbling in two with a loud cacophony.

The sarcophagus was open. Now to see what lay inside.

Lerenga picked the glowrod up, trembling with excitement and dread as he held it above the open stone coffin. Peering inside along with Talke, he saw a mess of bones, many broken into shards and imbedded in the stone, nearly indistinguishable. They probably made up a coherent skeleton at one point, but after the passage of millennia—possibly even tens of millennia—those petrified remnants hardly resembled a body.

“What is it?” Talke asked.

“Something long dead,” Lerenga answered. “Looks humanoid but it’s tough to say.”

“Well,” the captain breathed, exasperated. “Thank you for wasting our time, Lieutenant.”

Lerenga smirked, humiliated. He searched for something to say, but no words came.

Just then, a faint, high voice echoed in the distance. It yelled once, twice.

Everyone turned to the corridor. The captain held our her glowrod.

“Captain Meahonon!”

That sweet voice was unmistakable. Lerenga smiled with delight.

“Captain!” It was nearer.

“In here,” the captain called back.

Finally, the dim glow of another glowrod appeared around a corner, followed soon by the tiny frame of Dalia Divsson. She looked distressed, panting with desperation.

“Captain!” Divsson appeared at the edge of the corridor, being short enough that ducking was not necessary for her. “There’s something I have to show you. It’s . . . it’s big.”

“What is that noise?” Talke asked.

He was right. There was a muffled screeching emanating from the girl, rhythmically increasing and decreasing in frequency.

“Well, look.”

Divsson unfastened her pack, laid it on the ground, opened it, and produced a glowing purple crystal, pulsating its light as the nasty frequency it emitted echoed through the chamber.

“What the hell is that?” Lerenga asked with dread, cupping his hands over his ears.

“It’s that crystal we dug up,” Divsson explained.

They all stared at the crystal for a long while. Lerenga wondered what the captain would decide to do.

Just then, the pulsing ceased and the light remained constant, increasing in brilliance until it was blinding to look at, and the noise was so overpowering that he thought he was going to go deaf. Divsson let the abominable crystal fall to the ground as everyone dropped to their knees, shielding their eyes and ears. The ground trembled. Tiny rocks fell from the ceiling.


*            *            *


Arden summoned all her power, thundering her dark power through her crystalline prison. She spoke the words of the incantation as she latched onto the thread connected from the Soul of Kashi to her dead body. Basking in the darkness, steeped in the bottomless pit of Bogan, she rode that thread.


*            *            *


Writhing on the ground, Dalia desperately held her ears, afraid her eardrums were about to pop. Even through clenched eyes, she could see the cave flooded with supernatural light. This was hell!

Through the unforgiving screech, she thought she heard a woman’s voice speaking in an unfamiliar language.

Then there was what could only be described as an explosion, an eruption.

Then it was over. No noise, no light, apart from the faint glow of the three glowrods around the ground.

Her ears ringing, she pulled herself up onto her elbows, lying on her stomach. Her comrades uneasily climbed to their feet, shaking off what clearly looked like splitting headaches.

The chamber was littered with debris, some from the ceiling, but there were other, larger pieces. They looked like—no, it couldn’t be—shards of that stone box Lerenga and Talke had been checking out when she came in. Was that what the explosion was?

Lerenga retrieved his lamp, hand trembling, and slowly lifted it to illuminate the spot where the box had been.

What she saw was beyond comprehension.

There was no box, only a half-blasted slab of stone, upon which lie a naked woman.


*            *            *


Arden had reassembled her flesh, regenerating in seconds each and every cell in her body, undoing all traces of composition. Bogan flowed through her as each faculty of her brain reactivated, her heart began to beat, her blood flowed. Arden Lyn took a deep breath, filling her resurrected lungs with precious oxygen.

She opened her eyes.

She was in some sort of cave. The only source of illumination came from a device held by some grisly, middle-aged man who stared down at her with a look of awe.

It was then that she became acutely aware of her lack of clothes.

Then she remembered. The Jedi. She had been battling the Jedi, and these were Pina’s men, the ones responsible for the death of her beloved Xendor. And now they meant to desecrate and demean her body to avenge their master.

She would not have this. They would die where they stood.

The monstrous man slowly reached out a trembling hand.


*            *            *


All Dalia could do was stare in disbelief as Lerenga reached for the dead woman . . .

And then she shrieked in horror as the woman reach up and grabbed Lerenga’s wrist. She sat up and yanked him close to chest, whispering something into his panic-stricken face before twisting his head around backwards.

Dalia suppressed a scream with a hand to her mouth as Lerenga fell limp to the ground. The woman sprang to her feet and grabbed Talke by the shirt, whirling him around and slamming his head hard into the stone in the blink of an eye, rendering him lifeless.

Dalia’s heart raced. This could not be happening.

The captain drew her blaster, only to have if fly from her hand and into the woman’s a moment later. The murderous raised an arm out with fist clenched as the captain levitated a few feet above the ground, grasping at her neck. She dangled her legs desperately for a few seconds as the woman seemed to be enjoying whatever she was doing to her. Dalia felt the captain’s agony as she floated helplessly, unable to breathe. When she finally seemed to give up, the captain’s head jerked violently to the side with an audible crack, and her body went limp.

The woman threw her harm to the side, flinging Captain Meahonon’s lifeless body into the wall. She began to study the blaster, inspecting every inch.

Diala made use of this distraction as she grabbed her glowrod from off the ground and began to pull herself up, the murderer paying her no attention. She was on her knees when she looked at the crystal, lying colorless. Something told her she needed to keep it away from this . . . thing.

Dalia retrieved the crystal with her free hand, at which point the woman quickly turned her attention to her, staring her down through piercing eyes like a predator after its prey. Ice pumped through Dalia’s veins.

Dalia shot up and began to run, at which point a blaster bolt bore into the wall beside her, the noise echoing down the corridor. Shaken, she zipped around the corner at full sprit, the blue glow of her lamp illumining the way. She ducked under collapsed portions, sprinting whenever possible, adrenaline pumping through her body as horror drove her on.

She tripped over something, landing hard into the surface, dropping both the rod and the crystal. Retrieving the glowrod, she searched frantically for the crystal. Where was it? Not good, not good, not good!

The sound of bare feet against stone and dirt echoed behind her, getting louder by the second. Where was that blasted crystal? She moved the rod over every surface, every nook and cranny. Tears rolled down her face.

Dalia spotted the crystal against the wall. She picked it up, climbed to her feet, and started down the path.

Finally, she turned another corner and spotted the open night sky. She was almost free!

An irate female voice thundered through the cave in an alien language, that voice she had emanated from the crystal earlier. With it came a quake as rubble began to rain down all around her, large boulders falling in her path. She was near the entrance as rubble began to collect near the door, bend on blocking her in.

No!

Dalia leapt through the door just as it collapsed in on itself, buried under enormous rocks.

She took a moment to collect herself, trying not to hyperventilate. She looked to see her glowrod shattered, which didn’t matter because it was no longer needed. She saw the crystal lying by her side and picked it up.

With that, her dread was renewed as the rocks blocking the collapsed cave entrance began to stir. With adrenaline taking over once more, she sprang to her feet and made for the ship at full speed, which waited for her with engines running and ready to fly.

Dalia ran up the map and hit the control. As the ramp retracted, she saw the pile of rubble explode and her pursuer step through and turn to look at her. She took off down the hall as the ramp secured itself behind her, bolted into the cockpit and shot into the pilot’s chair. Wasting no time, I took control of the ship and lifted off, climbing through the atmosphere into the welcome blackness of space. Once she was clear of the system, the stars turned to lines as she made the jump to hyperspace. The cockpit was bathed in blue.

Dalia leaned back and collapsed into her chair, exasperated. She would need time to process what had just happened, but one thing was certain: she was alive.

She alone was alive. The reality was not pleasant.

What was she to do? Where could she turn?

She would figure it out later. For now, she would rest.


*            *            *


Dalia awoke hours later. Well, it seemed like hours. She had no idea how much time had passed.

She felt parched. Maybe some water might make her feel better.

Spinning around in her chair, Dalia’s world exploded as that terrible shrieking deafened her ears, and that murderer stood before her covered in dirt, scrapes and cuts, gazed deep into Dalia’s doomed soul, her crazed eyes pulsating with that purple aura. Dalia screamed.

She awoke with a jolt, covered in sweat.

Hello, PTSD.

She realized the black crystal was sitting on the console before her. She threw that cursed thing down the hall.

Yes, she definitely needed to tell somebody about this. But who?

Then it became abundantly clear.


*            *            *


“Admiral Zaarin,” the technician called out from the crew pit.

“What is it?” Zaarin asked, annoyed.

“Sir, your niece—I mean, Flight Lieutenant Divsson is on a secure channel. She says it’s urgent.”

Zaarin was perplexed. Dalia was not the type of person to ask for help.

“Patch it through to my quarters,” Zaarin ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Zaarin made his way down the length of the bridge to the turbolift. One thing about the Glory was that they designed it with the commanding officer’s ease of commute in mind, something that could not be said of the older Star Destroyers.

The lift came to a halt as the door opened, and Zaarin emerged on deck, arriving at his quarters. He entered and made sure the doors locked behind him. Sitting at his desk, he cued the holoprojector.

The form of his niece blinked into existence above the table.

“Uncle Demetrius?”

She looked terrible. She had a cut on the side of her head, her hair was a mess, and her skin and uniform were filthy.

“Dalia?” Zaarin returned. “My word. What in the galaxy happened, dear?”

“Something horrible just happened on one of the planets we were scouting,” Dalia continued, her voice trembling. “It’s a long story, but let me start by saying that we might need to send an Inquisitor.”

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Oh, they can, and they have. Granted, the only sequel I've seen is Episode VII so I can't speak for the other films, but I do know how VIII and IX were popularly received, if that's any indication. Aside from that, I really enjoyed Rogue One: it was a great film, yet even it had something lacking in spirit that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Solo was pretty good, though it also misses the mark and also suffers from the same think Tank said about the EU: the necessity to be familiar with other materials in order to understand the ending.

I've heard The Mandalorian is good and I intend to watch it eventually, along with Rebels. No idea how I'll like the latter but if it's anything like The Clone Wars I'll probably be put off by it.

I can't be a hypocrite, though--I need to practice what I preach. With that said, this is all just my own personal opinion.

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To clarify, I personally have never been overly excited by an EU story as an adult. What I conceded to you was the feeling of YOUR Star Wars suddenly being ruined. The feeling you describe of the EU being removed from canon is more or less how the PT made me feel.

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They've made more money than SW has ever made before, but I was talking about other media, not film.  As far as enjoying previous SW books but not enjoying current SW books......man, it's all SW.  Just enjoy em, if you like SW.  If you don't want to enjoy them, then I have major doubts about how much enjoying was experienced out of the old books to begin with.

The same contract writers are brought in, just as before, and are given a box they are permitted to write in.  It's literally exactly the same.

Hopefully the goofball ideas from before, that I mentioned and would love to bring up again because it's hilarious, they've learned from them.  But they're sci-fi contract writers, so there's no way.

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Zahn and Luceno are pretty much the only ones from the old canon who are writing for the new, and they are carefully writing their books around the old continuity, even though they belong to the new, so that they can fit into either continuum. I give those guys mad props for doing that since they didn't have to. These books I have purchased, read, and placed on my shelves in the proper places where they can fit, along with other books, comics, and video games that I and several other fans have checked out and approved for inclusion into the old canon. I'm only interested in the integrity of the original universe built up for thirty years by countless individuals, not what has taken its place. If something can fit, I'll include it; if not, it is discarded. This vetting process is part of my enjoyment and is how my own brand of fandom works, so before you judge me otherwise, keep in mind that not everyone chooses to enjoy things exactly the way you do, or even the way the masses do.

As for those "goofball ideas," I have no regrets. I'll take every iota of the EU, the good, the bad, and the ugly, no matter what it is. It's about inclusion for me. It's like a microcosm of life itself.

Once again, in my own opinion.

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THAT'S inclusion?  Lmao, you're doing the exact opposite of inclusion.  I also want to love A, B, C but hate X, Y, Z.  It's all about liking it all, man, you know, man.  All of it!  Like A, B , and C.  But not X, Y, or Z.  Fuck that. Because inclusion, man. 

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Allow me to clarify: it's all about inclusion into the original canon. It has nothing to do with liking or hating. I hate some of the EU and accept it just as much as I do the stuff I love. Conversely, there's at least one thing from the new canon that I like (Solo) but do not accept it as canon. I'm not interested in exploring the rest of the new canon because . . . well, because I'm not interested, that's why. I'm sure there's some cool stuff in there, but to me it's an entirely different franchise. Your A-B-Cs and X-Y-Zs don't add up because you're talking about two different alphabets: Greek and Latin, though they do share a couple of letters. I accept (read again: accept, not like) the entirety of one body (because that body is what Star Wars is to me) and will accept certain things from the other body into the first by way of economy.

It makes sense, you're just choosing not to see things differently from your own perspective, or at the very least accept that there are other perspectives.

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That's the part I don't get, the idea that even if you hate it, you still have to accept and/or own it.

I go back and watch TNG and DS9 every year or so-- but I skip the episodes I know are awful. I certainly don't rewatch the PT if I can help it.

I can like Star Wars, but that doesn't mean I have to like everything they slap the logo on.

You've made it clear you hate the new movies and avoid them-- why does a random book from 15 ago that you hate get included, but a movie, which is what SW is meant to be gets hated?

Is it simply because one came first?

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6 hours ago, Zerimar Nyliram said:

Allow me to clarify: it's all about inclusion into the original canon. It has nothing to do with liking or hating. I hate some of the EU and accept it just as much as I do the stuff I love. Conversely, there's at least one thing from the new canon that I like (Solo) but do not accept it as canon. I'm not interested in exploring the rest of the new canon because . . . well, because I'm not interested, that's why. I'm sure there's some cool stuff in there, but to me it's an entirely different franchise. Your A-B-Cs and X-Y-Zs don't add up because you're talking about two different alphabets: Greek and Latin, though they do share a couple of letters. I accept (read again: accept, not like) the entirety of one body (because that body is what Star Wars is to me) and will accept certain things from the other body into the first by way of economy.

It makes sense, you're just choosing not to see things differently from your own perspective, or at the very least accept that there are other perspectives.

No no.   I know what you're saying.   That's why I'm making the points I'm making. 

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1 hour ago, Tank said:

That's the part I don't get, the idea that even if you hate it, you still have to accept and/or own it.

I go back and watch TNG and DS9 every year or so-- but I skip the episodes I know are awful. I certainly don't rewatch the PT if I can help it.

I can like Star Wars, but that doesn't mean I have to like everything they slap the logo on.

You've made it clear you hate the new movies and avoid them-- why does a random book from 15 ago that you hate get included, but a movie, which is what SW is meant to be gets hated?

Is it simply because one came first?

Plus, Z, you had to know that any particular storyline or time-line would be eradicated.  I knew from the moment the EU first started, I was there.  I knew it was going to happen.  New stories will get told.  Then another story will get told that will replace that one. 

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3 hours ago, Tank said:

That's the part I don't get, the idea that even if you hate it, you still have to accept and/or own it.

I go back and watch TNG and DS9 every year or so-- but I skip the episodes I know are awful. I certainly don't rewatch the PT if I can help it.

I can like Star Wars, but that doesn't mean I have to like everything they slap the logo on.

You've made it clear you hate the new movies and avoid them-- why does a random book from 15 ago that you hate get included, but a movie, which is what SW is meant to be gets hated?

Is it simply because one came first?

Owning it is a bit extreme, but collectors gotta collect. I used to be a completist with media before I forced myself through the Sword of Truth series. But accepting it as canon? I get that. I hate 3/5 of the Disney movies, but I still accept that it’s the official story.

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3 hours ago, Tank said:

That's the part I don't get, the idea that even if you hate it, you still have to accept and/or own it.

I go back and watch TNG and DS9 every year or so-- but I skip the episodes I know are awful. I certainly don't rewatch the PT if I can help it.

I can like Star Wars, but that doesn't mean I have to like everything they slap the logo on.

You've made it clear you hate the new movies and avoid them-- why does a random book from 15 ago that you hate get included, but a movie, which is what SW is meant to be gets hated?

Is it simply because one came first?

Because one is part of the canon I accept, and the other is not. It's that simple. One goes along with continuity, the other contradicts it and even mocks it.

Fozzie seems to get me here. Like I've been saying to JediGoat, Tank, you have to wrap your head around the idea that not everyone thinks the way you do or chooses to enjoy their fandom the way you do. Excluding something from canon just because the story sucks doesn't seem like a good reason to me, because real history is full of stupid stuff. Excluding something that doesn't fit, that makes sense to me.

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I feel like I'm having a flat earth argument.  Please tell me we aren't.  

Z, I already said I've wrapped my head around it.  Let's not be so full of ourselves that our thoughts are so unique that whoa there's no way it has been thought up by anyone else!!

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