The galaxy was not just imagined.
It was crafted with devotion.
Even the flawed prequels carried sincerity.
The Expanded Universe content — all of them were written by people who believed in the galaxy they were tending.
The Thrawn Trilogy carefully expanded the saga — introducing new icons, naming Coruscant, and even surviving Luuke, whose mythic underpinnings were misguided but resilient.
The Knights of the Old Republic games offered the most thoughtful meditations on the Force and the Jedi.
Even the horror stories — Death Troopers and Red Harvest — bent the galaxy into survival horror, yet still spoke the old language of shadow, corruption, and resilience.
The grammar was mythic:
- Heroes earned their arcs.
- Mentors passed the legacy.
- Lineage mattered, even when it was messy.
You could feel the affection, even when the execution faltered.
You could feel the devotion, even when the stories stumbled.
The old galaxy was built by people who believed in it.
That belief made it luminous.
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