[Haute Rép] The Eye of Darkness, de George Mann

[L2-D2]

Premier roman adulte de la Phase III !

Il se déroulera un an après la chute du Flambeau Stellaire, événement qui clôturait la Phase I et lancera cette Phase III qui aura pour titre : "Trials of the Jedi"

Sortie prévue le 14 novembre 2023 !

[xximus Ancien staffeur]

Ça va être dur de patienter jusqu'à la sortie vf pour celui-là, perso je pense qu'il y aura encore du doublon avec l'achat vo/vf.

[Dark Servatos]

La couverture a été dévoilée :

Spoiler: Afficher

[Adanedhel]

Très classe !

[AlxBes]

Quel banger cette couv'

[Neow Ancien staffeur]

Quelle classe ce Marchion quand même, toujours badass.

[oswulf Padawan]

superbe couverture !
c'est d'ailleurs la première couverture de roman de la haute république qui ne présente pas un jedi .

(alors, en réalité il y a aussi la couverture du deuxième roman adulte de la phase 2 )

[xximus Ancien staffeur]

Trop stylée.

[L2-D2]

Il n'y a pas que la couverture qui a été dévoilé, ce fut aussi le cas du synopsis !

[L2-D2]

Un extrait en VO :

Spoiler: Afficher

High above the soaring spires of Coruscant, the stars turned in their firmament as they always had, as they always would. Pinpricks of light denoting distant suns, distant worlds, distant peoples, mirrored by the glittering lights of the city far below.

It should have been beautiful.

Yet to Elzar Mann, the stars looked wrong. No matter how hard or how long he peered up at them from his vantage point on the grand balcony outside the chancellor’s office, they just seemed somehow off kilter, out of sorts. As if the galaxy had become kinked, twisted, changed. As if everything he’d once relied upon — every still point in a chaotic galaxy — had been suddenly yanked away, pulled out roughly from under him while he tried to remain standing.

It had been the same ever since the fall of Starlight Beacon and . . .

. . . and Stellan.

Elzar closed his eyes and allowed the breeze to ruffle his unkempt hair, as if hoping that the chill wind could somehow sweep away the memories, carry them off into the streaming lanes of traffic and away through the spires and domes until they were gone. He’d noticed that a few gray strands had appeared around his temples in recent months. He’d lost weight, too, and while he was still toned — he’d taken to practicing lightsaber drills late into the night, most nights — he’d grown thin. He’d tried to convince himself that it was a result of the work, of keeping himself so busy trying to figure out a solution to the Nihil problem, but he knew he was allowing things to worry away at him.

How Stellan would have laughed at him. Nudged him in the ribs and told him to cease dwelling on things that were done. To focus on the here and now. To do what needed to be done, and accept that the Force guided his hand, now as it always had.

But Stellan was gone. He was one with the Force. He had been for a year. Elzar knew that his old friend had found peace. And yet his absence was still marked. Not just a hole in the Jedi’s hearts and minds, but in their leadership, too. Especially now that the Nihil had won, had shattered Starlight Beacon and subsequently annexed dozens of worlds, an entire sector of the Outer Rim, from the rest of the galaxy. This area was being called the Nihil Occlusion Zone, and was separated by an invisible barrier that made it all possible.

The Stormwall: a vast web that disrupted hyperspace travel, causing any vessel that attempted to cross it to be wrenched violently back out of hyperspace, either destroying it immediately or causing it to disappear without a trace. There’d been much debate about what exactly happened to those missing ships, given that communication across the Stormwall was also impeded, but the assumption was that any ships that weren’t destroyed in the attempt were being corralled by Nihil patrols on the other side, and deposited into so-called kill zones. Certainly, they were never heard from again.

Worse, the network of relays and buoys — or “stormseeds” — that powered the Stormwall was so large that traveling across it without lightspeed was equally out of the question. Any ship trying to breach such a vast gulf of space at sublight speeds would have to travel for a hundred years before reaching its destination. Not only that, but any attempt at sublight ingress was being met and destroyed by Nihil patrols or swarms of scav droids, alerted by the automated systems that controlled the Stormwall technology. Patrols that could traverse the Stormwall and deliver a killing blow before the target was even aware it had happened.

It was ingenious, in its own way, and it had so far frustrated all Jedi or Republic attempts to bypass it, usually with disastrous results. Ships flown by droids. Electromagnetic pulses. Data slicing. Sustained attack on the well-shielded stormseeds. Nothing had worked. Nothing at all.

With the Stormwall, the Nihil had carved out their own domain, challenging the Republic at every turn. And with the Nameless — or “Force Eaters,” as they were also known — they had unleashed a weapon that even the Jedi could not stop. A weapon that targeted the very essence of who the Jedi were. A weapon designed to obliterate them.

Elzar exhaled.

This would all have been so much easier if Avar were by his side. Instead, she was somewhere deep in the Occlusion Zone, as distant to him as Stellan was.

They’d stood together on Eiram, watching the last vestiges of the Beacon slip beneath the cold, crushing waves, carrying all the Republic’s hopes and dreams down with it. It had been a symbol of strength and unity, of light in the dark, of hope. And the Nihil, led by Marchion Ro, had turned that symbol against them. Now it was a symbol of nothing but failure and loss.

Elzar had allowed Avar to take his hand in that moment, to lend him strength. He’d taken comfort from that; a shared understanding, a silent acknowledgment that they still had each other, despite everything. Despite the galaxy turning to chaos around them. But he cursed himself now that, lost in his own shock and grief, his own shame at what he had done, he had failed to ask Avar how she had felt. Had failed to offer her the comfort that she had offered him. And that pain she’d been carrying, that sense of loss and failure, had driven her away.

Unless it was him that had driven her away. That was the notion that haunted him, that plagued him with uncertainty and shame. He’d finally worked up the courage to confide in her about what had happened in the final moments of Starlight Beacon. How he’d acted without thought, murdering the Nihil woman, Chancey Yarrow, as she’d tried to save them all. He hadn’t known it at the time, of course. He’d assumed she was just another Nihil trying to sabotage the Jedi’s attempts to save the station. But the results were the same: He’d ended their last chance at saving Starlight, and in doing so had taken the life of someone who’d been trying to help.

Everything that had come afterward was now partly his fault. He had to make amends, to try to embody even a tiny sliver of the good that Stellan had gifted to the galaxy. To somehow try to fill the hole that Stellan had left behind. He’d told Avar all of this, the words spilling from his mouth on the shores of Eiram.

Avar had said all the right things, of course. All the platitudes and reassurances, repeating all the tenets of the Force and the reminders that everything happened for a reason, that he wasn’t to blame. That only the Nihil carried that weight upon their shoulders. She’d shown him all the mercy and understanding for which he’d hoped.

And yet . . . Elzar couldn’t help but wonder if it had also been part of the reason she’d gone, accepting a mission to try to get closer to the Nihil, to discover their intentions in the aftermath of their victory. Intentions that none of them could have anticipated.

Now she, too, was lost. Trapped behind the Stormwall, deep in Nihil space. He didn’t even know if she was still alive.

No, Elzar. You’d know. She’s still out there.

She has to be.

He would bring her back. Avar and the others who shared her fate. He would find a way. The threat of the Nihil would be ended. The Stormwall would fall, and peace would be returned to the galaxy.

There was no choice. He would do what Stellan would have done. No matter that they’d already tried everything they could think of. No matter that the Nihil had defeated them at every turn.

He would find a way.

He had to.

It was the only way to make things right.

[Adanedhel]

Un extrait en VO :

Spoiler: Afficher

High above the soaring spires of Coruscant, the stars turned in their firmament as they always had, as they always would. Pinpricks of light denoting distant suns, distant worlds, distant peoples, mirrored by the glittering lights of the city far below.

It should have been beautiful.

Yet to Elzar Mann, the stars looked wrong. No matter how hard or how long he peered up at them from his vantage point on the grand balcony outside the chancellor’s office, they just seemed somehow off kilter, out of sorts. As if the galaxy had become kinked, twisted, changed. As if everything he’d once relied upon — every still point in a chaotic galaxy — had been suddenly yanked away, pulled out roughly from under him while he tried to remain standing.

It had been the same ever since the fall of Starlight Beacon and . . .

. . . and Stellan.

Elzar closed his eyes and allowed the breeze to ruffle his unkempt hair, as if hoping that the chill wind could somehow sweep away the memories, carry them off into the streaming lanes of traffic and away through the spires and domes until they were gone. He’d noticed that a few gray strands had appeared around his temples in recent months. He’d lost weight, too, and while he was still toned — he’d taken to practicing lightsaber drills late into the night, most nights — he’d grown thin. He’d tried to convince himself that it was a result of the work, of keeping himself so busy trying to figure out a solution to the Nihil problem, but he knew he was allowing things to worry away at him.

How Stellan would have laughed at him. Nudged him in the ribs and told him to cease dwelling on things that were done. To focus on the here and now. To do what needed to be done, and accept that the Force guided his hand, now as it always had.

But Stellan was gone. He was one with the Force. He had been for a year. Elzar knew that his old friend had found peace. And yet his absence was still marked. Not just a hole in the Jedi’s hearts and minds, but in their leadership, too. Especially now that the Nihil had won, had shattered Starlight Beacon and subsequently annexed dozens of worlds, an entire sector of the Outer Rim, from the rest of the galaxy. This area was being called the Nihil Occlusion Zone, and was separated by an invisible barrier that made it all possible.

The Stormwall: a vast web that disrupted hyperspace travel, causing any vessel that attempted to cross it to be wrenched violently back out of hyperspace, either destroying it immediately or causing it to disappear without a trace. There’d been much debate about what exactly happened to those missing ships, given that communication across the Stormwall was also impeded, but the assumption was that any ships that weren’t destroyed in the attempt were being corralled by Nihil patrols on the other side, and deposited into so-called kill zones. Certainly, they were never heard from again.

Worse, the network of relays and buoys — or “stormseeds” — that powered the Stormwall was so large that traveling across it without lightspeed was equally out of the question. Any ship trying to breach such a vast gulf of space at sublight speeds would have to travel for a hundred years before reaching its destination. Not only that, but any attempt at sublight ingress was being met and destroyed by Nihil patrols or swarms of scav droids, alerted by the automated systems that controlled the Stormwall technology. Patrols that could traverse the Stormwall and deliver a killing blow before the target was even aware it had happened.

It was ingenious, in its own way, and it had so far frustrated all Jedi or Republic attempts to bypass it, usually with disastrous results. Ships flown by droids. Electromagnetic pulses. Data slicing. Sustained attack on the well-shielded stormseeds. Nothing had worked. Nothing at all.

With the Stormwall, the Nihil had carved out their own domain, challenging the Republic at every turn. And with the Nameless — or “Force Eaters,” as they were also known — they had unleashed a weapon that even the Jedi could not stop. A weapon that targeted the very essence of who the Jedi were. A weapon designed to obliterate them.

Elzar exhaled.

This would all have been so much easier if Avar were by his side. Instead, she was somewhere deep in the Occlusion Zone, as distant to him as Stellan was.

They’d stood together on Eiram, watching the last vestiges of the Beacon slip beneath the cold, crushing waves, carrying all the Republic’s hopes and dreams down with it. It had been a symbol of strength and unity, of light in the dark, of hope. And the Nihil, led by Marchion Ro, had turned that symbol against them. Now it was a symbol of nothing but failure and loss.

Elzar had allowed Avar to take his hand in that moment, to lend him strength. He’d taken comfort from that; a shared understanding, a silent acknowledgment that they still had each other, despite everything. Despite the galaxy turning to chaos around them. But he cursed himself now that, lost in his own shock and grief, his own shame at what he had done, he had failed to ask Avar how she had felt. Had failed to offer her the comfort that she had offered him. And that pain she’d been carrying, that sense of loss and failure, had driven her away.

Unless it was him that had driven her away. That was the notion that haunted him, that plagued him with uncertainty and shame. He’d finally worked up the courage to confide in her about what had happened in the final moments of Starlight Beacon. How he’d acted without thought, murdering the Nihil woman, Chancey Yarrow, as she’d tried to save them all. He hadn’t known it at the time, of course. He’d assumed she was just another Nihil trying to sabotage the Jedi’s attempts to save the station. But the results were the same: He’d ended their last chance at saving Starlight, and in doing so had taken the life of someone who’d been trying to help.

Everything that had come afterward was now partly his fault. He had to make amends, to try to embody even a tiny sliver of the good that Stellan had gifted to the galaxy. To somehow try to fill the hole that Stellan had left behind. He’d told Avar all of this, the words spilling from his mouth on the shores of Eiram.

Avar had said all the right things, of course. All the platitudes and reassurances, repeating all the tenets of the Force and the reminders that everything happened for a reason, that he wasn’t to blame. That only the Nihil carried that weight upon their shoulders. She’d shown him all the mercy and understanding for which he’d hoped.

And yet . . . Elzar couldn’t help but wonder if it had also been part of the reason she’d gone, accepting a mission to try to get closer to the Nihil, to discover their intentions in the aftermath of their victory. Intentions that none of them could have anticipated.

Now she, too, was lost. Trapped behind the Stormwall, deep in Nihil space. He didn’t even know if she was still alive.

No, Elzar. You’d know. She’s still out there.

She has to be.

He would bring her back. Avar and the others who shared her fate. He would find a way. The threat of the Nihil would be ended. The Stormwall would fall, and peace would be returned to the galaxy.

There was no choice. He would do what Stellan would have done. No matter that they’d already tried everything they could think of. No matter that the Nihil had defeated them at every turn.

He would find a way.

He had to.

It was the only way to make things right.

Et une version traduite en français de ce même extrait !

[Adanedhel]

Traduction d'un second extrait, centré cette fois sur Avar Kriss !

[Dago Ancien staffeur]

Après trois romans sur le terrorisme en Phase I on a cette fois-ci le droit à un roman d'occupation : suite aux trois coups de poing donnés par Marchion Ro, les Jedi sont à terre et doivent survivre dans une [partie de la] galaxie dirigée par les Nihil. Ce sont clairement mes passages préférés, Avar (très intéressante alors que jusqu’ici je n’avais pas accroché au perso) et Porter Engle seuls contre tous, mais aussi la journaliste Rhil Dairo prise en otage.
On passe également un bon moment avec le haut-commandement nihil, en particulier Ghirra Starros que George Mann essaie de "réparer" en lui donnant de la consistance par rapport à la fin de la Phase I (genre, lui donner une raison à sa trahison ). Les relations et rivalités entre les personnages sont bien écrites, on comprend les différents points de vue et les logiques qui s’affrontent.
Enfin, le troisième cadre est Coruscant avec sa chancelière et son Conseil Jedi. Heureusement Elzar Mann, bien traumatisé, est là pour rendre intéressant la chose, en particulier dans la deuxième moitié du roman où pour moi l’aspect politique/diplomatie ne fonctionne pas du tout (mais où est le Sénat ???) - alors que les thématiques proposées sont très intéressantes. J'ai moins aimé ces passages mais pas au point de les lire en diagonal pour passez au chapitre suivant, j'aime assez l'écriture de George Mann pour les apprécier.

Bref, une lecture très plaisante qui nous replonge dans la Phase I, commence à tisser les liens avec la Phase II, et lance parfaitement cette Phase III (vivement la suite, c’est quoi ces sorties si espacées!).

[Dago Ancien staffeur]

Peaufiner ses notes de la Phase II et se rendre compte que tel personnage est devenu tel personnage. Donc Boolan le ministre des Nihil était un des Petits de la Voie de la main ouverte! (et son père est mort dans la mission sur Planète X), vivement les retrouvailles avec Tromak

[Jagged Fela]

Avec un peu de retard, la fiche pour déposer vos avis (et la critique made in SWU ne devrait plus tarder ) :

https://www.starwars-universe.com/livre ... kness.html

[Lain-Anksoo]

c'est tout beau c'est tout chaud !

https://www.starwars-universe.com/actu- ... kness.html

[L2-D2]

Quand tu dis "le roman le plus abouti", tu l'as trouvé encore meilleur que La Lumière des Jedi ?

[Lain-Anksoo]

non je parle pas en terme de qualité de l'histoire, je parle en terme de "concept" de la Haute République. La manière dont il s'intègre dans la trame, comment on sent à1000% (comme aucun avant lui) qu'il fait parti d'un tout.
ce que je dis dans mon premier paragraphe.

L'histoire elle est assez légère et tranquille.

[L2-D2]

Ah okay ! Je vois, c'est le roman "ultime" en ce sens, celui qui référence bien comme il faut, sans en faire trop, okay !