I was excited to open this book and see that I was getting a first-person narrative from the perspective of one of my all-time favorite Jedi, Vernestra Rwoh (or "Vern" to me, because we're tight), but then I remembered that DLF hires independent contractors to crank these books out in a couple of months, and that many of these folks think written points of view are interchangeable, thus we regrettably don't experience any of the magical things first-person can do: the intimate closeness to the character, the observations only this character could make, the realism of only seeing the world through one perspective, etc. Instead, we get the usual generic, mechanical writing seasoned with a half-hearted attempt to make Vern sound like Rebecca Henderson's portrayal of the character in THE ACOLYTE, an attempt that basically amounts to never using contractions and over-explaining everything. Where the early High Republic material shows Vern as a plucky-yet-serious wielder of the Force who feels strongly for her loved ones, here she comes off as if a person who hasn't had an orgasm in 80 years is writing you a long email.
I like that Indara gets a nice background and that Vern and (the returning) Ty Yorrick are pretty much "over" the way the Order is becoming closer to the Republic in the wake of the Nihil conflict, which will eventually make them vulnerable for what's coming in the prequels. But other than that, this book is just kinda...there.
Other stuff I feel the need to moan about:
-It's the return of Justina Ireland's seventh-grade method of introducing every character by their "dark brown skin." Oddly, nobody seems to notice Vernestra's "dark green skin." Again, I'm thrilled about the level of inclusiveness in SW as a whole, but y'all really gotta get some copy-editors in the house.
-How many times does the word "eschew" need to appear in one book? It's a mostly superfluous word that sounds like a sneeze. Again, where's the copy editing?
-I realize not every Star Wars villain can be a Palpatine, a Vader, a Tarkin, or even a Marchion Ro, but arms dealer Nilsson Summach is less of a threat than your average stormtrooper. He looks like Bob Marley, he only cares about getting high, his name sounds like a forgotten bronze-medal skier, and his master plan to mass produce a bracelet that nullifies lightsabers is the lowest-stakes scheme since that redheaded turd tried to start a mutiny on Starlight Beacon and then got killed by a sapient pet rock in THE FALLEN STAR (the shart of the High Republic series), which this book can't stop conjuring reminders of via painfully vapid visions of Stellan Gios. Sorry, Nelson Stomach, or whatever your name is, but you were never going to be taken seriously.
-The galaxy is split into sectors, which it shouldn't be for another 200-ish years.
-All of the villains die the exact same way: that trope where the hero defeats them and lets them live, only for them to immediately be gunned down by one of their associates who happened to be hiding nearby (and it's been done in SW before: see ATTACK OF THE CLONES). It's mostly used as a way to get Indara frustrated about how bad guys constantly escape justice. The problem is that the characters involved in these schemes, such as Grizela and Florinda, are never given *reasons* for any of their actions, so they never reach their potential as characters. They're used as plot devices and then thrown in the junk drawer (kinda like the non-Star-Wars action figures you'd use to fill in the gaps in the enemy army when you were a kid).
-Vern and Indara's "reluctant coworkers to friends" pipeline is too expository to be meaningful. They will literally walk into the same room and one of them will say something like "In order to avoid further conflict, I suggest we get to know one another better." Then they each share one random experience from their past. It feels more like a transaction than character development, and by the time of THE ACOLYTE, there's no real illustration of them ever having been close.
-The book feels a little disingenuously marketed. If you watched THE ACOLYTE and then someone told you, "The prequel novel about Vernestra is coming out," your first thought would be, "Whoa, we're getting Qimir's origin story!" Sadly, Vern's thing with Qimir is only alluded to twice, wherein she thinks of his "death" (which we already know was faked) as her greatest failure. Yet it doesn't affect her personality, her abilities, her feelings on the Order, or anything else in the story, nor does it enhance anything in the show. For contrast, think about everything ANDOR does to enhance ROGUE ONE. As one example, after seeing all of ANDOR, you truly come to understand why Cassian cannot bring himself to gun down Galen Erso in front of his daughter, and it gives the moment a ton of weight. Here, we get no further information about Qimir, nothing about Vern's other apprentices over the last 80+ years (other than the fact that Imri got old and died), and nothing that makes you appreciate the show more, which seems especially cruel now that the show is (supposedly) not getting another season. If it were some great standalone work of sci-fi literature (see Alexander Freed's recent SW book, THE MASK OF FEAR), sure, but as it stands - as much as it hurts me to say this about any work containing Vernestra - there is no reason for this book to exist (besides, y'know, that sweet cash).
So yes, without a proper prequel or second season, we're unlikely to ever find out what happened between Vern and Qimir, nor find out how Darth Plagueis manipulated his way into bringing the Sith back into relevance. THE ACOLYTE was shaping up to be the raw, heartbreaking Jedi tragedy that everyone pretends the prequel films were. Vernestra could have been a timeless Jedi hero on par with Kenobi, and Qimir would have been the next Vader alongside her. But in the days of everything being so corporate, so much content being cranked out in such a hurry, and legions of anonymous trolls disparaging everything in sight using the wifi in their mom's basement, the idea of anything ever again becoming "classic" is as dumb as Nolan Scumbag (or whatever his name is) and his 47 nullifier bracelets.