Chapter 83

“This planet is crying. She’s wounded.”

Pressed up against the viewport of the Kom’rk, Ralkai Wren stared at the violent lightning and storms raging through the upper atmosphere, then at the bottomless fissures cutting across the surface below, and murmured the words under his breath.

“Another fine piece of Sith handiwork.” Max Vizsla kept his hands on the controls as he answered. “Long, long ago, Exegol was fertile land.”