Is it a regular PDF, or an eBook i. If encrypted, how will they put it on the CD? Registered: Jun 18, Yeah, right. JediMasterGuff , Sep 13, Encryption or no encryption has nothing to do with the definition of "e-book". Infact IIRC, many of the first e-books were e-books of books in public domain that did not have any encryption. Valiento , Sep 13, Fine, encrypted eBook. That definition is going to need to adapt and change. Show Ignored Content.
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The sequence ended, and Anakin clicked his blade off and stood breathing heavily. Jacen started a slow, almost mocking, clap. Anakin crinkled his face in disdain and snorted. Anakin looked at him skeptically, as if to ask, given that admission, what the problem might be. Jacen was shaking his head before his little brother had even finished that expected response.
What are you thinking about? But that is such a limiting philosophy. Certainly individual communities have suffered at their hands, just like during the reign of the Emperor. Anakin held up the pommel of his lightsaber. He turned to face Anakin and brought his own lightsaber to glowing life before him. Again, Anakin attacked, and then again, as if he meant to beat his brother back right through a wall.
They had to trust in themselves, and in each other, for there were no practice modes on their lightsabers. The slightest miss, or wrong deflection, or too-far thrust, could bring serious harm. Jacen came out of that fit first, mellowing his parries to those subtle and beautiful shifts and turns, and offering few offensive routines at all. That sudden passivity only spurred Anakin on to greater intensity.
His lightsaber slashed once, twice, and thrice from the left, then he spun about a complete circuit, reversing his grip as he went, and slashed, once, twice, thrice, from the right. Jacen parried the first three from his left, then parried again and again from the right, and then. And Anakin, so into the flow, thinking to take the third parry and spin back the other way, swooshed his blade right over his ducking brother and overbalanced as the weapon hit nothing but air.
Down below, he heard a clank of metal and a few more curses from his frustrated father, who was still hard at work. Talk to Anakin. He held a pair of cables in his hand, one of them throwing the occasional spark, and his face was covered in grease so that his eyes and teeth shone brightly in contrast. Jacen laughed again—or started to, until Chewie spun back around and glowered at him.
Nothing like a Wookiee glare to sap the mirth. A short time later, Mara, Jaina, and C-3PO found their friends at work on the Falcon, while Leia headed off to issue her full report to the council. Jaina wasted no time in pulling her brothers aside and dazzling them with her tale of evading the Z Headhunters.
Anakin puffed up with satisfaction as she recounted the story, taking it as proof of his understanding of the Force. Mara, meanwhile, filled in Luke about the deadly intervention by Wurth Skidder. Besides, by the time he got near to us, we were breaking clear. No, Wurth just wanted some kicks, and to add a couple of kill markers under his canopy. A hundred Jedi Knights roamed the galaxy now—how could he keep them all under wraps? He fell over her, then, in a great hug and a heartfelt laugh.
He always felt so much better when his wife was around. Chewie stood quietly outside the council chamber, leaning back against the wall, his hands behind his head. When Mara and Jaina had come to the Falcon, Han had sent the Wookiee here to escort Leia, but Chewbacca understood that he had really been sent here just to get him away from Han and the Falcon. They both needed a break, and Chewie was glad for it.
There, across the hall and in a closet, hung Fyor Rodan, his collar hooked on a coatrack. Chewbacca growled and shook his head. Chewie closed the closet door. But then she stopped, considering the meeting she had just walked out of, the unending squabbling over minor details, the open disdain two of the councilors had shown to her concerning her failure at Osarian-Rhommamool, the obvious posturing for political reasons. Chewie gave an assenting howl, and off they went. After all these years, the fire remained between Leia and Han, a deep and honest love and respect.
Leia sighed and shook her head. Han laughed. A big part of her wanted a vacation from all the turmoil, but after the incident with Wurth Skidder, Leia was beginning to take these Jedi problems personally. So much for any thoughts of vacation, Leia realized, for anytime Lando was involved, even peripherally, situations seemed to get very complicated, and usually dangerous.
Of course, that only strengthened her resolve to go along. Assuming we can get the Falcon flying again. Leia managed a smile. For all the pain and the impending threat of death, Mara was determined to live her life fully, to live without this unknown disease being the center of her existence. In the end, they decided that three should go, including someone with a geological background and with Danni captaining the mission and piloting the rickety old ship. A short while later, Yomin Carr answered the knock on his door to find Danni standing in the hall, her smile coy.
Danni nodded and smiled at him, as though he should be pleased. Inside his ear, the little tizowyrm continued its vibrations, and Yomin Carr fell into them for a moment, recognizing that it might be time for a bit of levity. Now Danni was laughing, and not disagreeing.
He understood the implications here. According to his instructions, under no circumstances was he to go anywhere near the base planet. On pain of death, and a dishonorable death at that, Yomin Carr was to have no physical connection to the war coordinator, and no contact at all other than the secure villip-talk.
I could not usurp their opportunity. Yomin Carr was always on time for his shift. Yomin Carr stayed true to his post, hour after hour, day after day, week after week, while all of the others—including, to a lesser extent, Danni—had eased around the edges of their responsibilities. He fell to his knees and bent over quickly, smacking his forehead against the floor, calling out to YunHarla, the Cloaked Goddess, and Yun-Yammka, the Slayer, for guidance.
His fingers whitened from the press he put on the floor, playing out his warrior urges against the unyielding surface. And then Yomin Carr was calm once more and in control of his thoughts.
He had to weigh the threat against the potential disaster and to help the scales balance. He went and retrieved the small coffer, for the tizowyrm had been in too long and was getting dangerously close to exhaustion. If the creature was left in too long, it would literally vibrate itself to death. The warrior went out from his room soon after, again in the dark of night, stealthily to the small Spacecaster.
He reminded himself of the importance to the greater good, stoically accepting his role, as he had during those years of training, and indeed, he did take some pride in the fact that, among the entire force of Praetorite Vong, Yomin Carr was probably the finest technician. He set up shop openly—too many were about for him to hope to accomplish his tasks without discovery—hanging lights and making no effort to conceal the clanking of metallic tools.
The ion drive is running efficiently. Danni came over and inspected the work, then nodded her approval. You will desire some time at the planet for close study, but you will not have enough supplies to take four out there and back, especially if that hyperdrive is not performing well. Yomin Carr merely laughed, understanding that she had just kiddingly insulted him, but not getting the reference at all.
Danni put her hand on his shoulder. Yomin Carr nodded and kept his smile in check. If she only understood the irony of that statement! A short time later, Yomin Carr clicked on the distance communicator and gave a call to the nearby ExGal-4 station. They would go out into space properly muted. Truly Danni would make a good Yuuzhan Vong warrior, but that very trait likely damned her, for he doubted that her strong will could be so bent against her own people. Everyone would die, they understood, so how one died was the important factor.
Normally, they reserved the most dishonorable deaths for their enemies. He had taken some readings that morning and had done the calculations. The storms should come on strong soon after. His duties were almost at their end, sadly so, for after the transformation of Belkadan, he was merely to remain on the planet and ride out the greenhouse storms while the conquest was under way.
More likely, Executor Nom Anor will hear of your fine work and gather you to help with his espionage. Garth Breise stood in the hallway, coils of rope looped about his shoulder. It was all going so very well. The early morning air was chill, but not crisp, and thick with a strange sulfuric smell. Garth Breise twitched his nose repeatedly but made no comment, Yomin Carr noted with some relief.
He reminded himself that he would be more sensitive to the odor, because he knew what it portended. Likely, Garth Breise hardly noticed it. Then he took a blaster from the weapons locker, securing it on his belt, and pulled out another one, offering it to Yomin Carr, who politely declined.
They exited the compound, closing the door behind them, and started for the tower. As they approached, both noticed movement around the base of the tower, almost as if the very ground had come writhing to life. Yomin Carr looked up, up, up. It might indeed be better for the mission to dissuade Garth from going up now, but personally, Yomin Carr was growing more agitated, more eager for action, by the minute.
He wanted to make this climb. And so they did, hand over hand, securing each foothold, securing each length of rope, and then climbing on to the next level.
It was still dark when they made the top, Garth Breise leading the way. A thunderous roar from behind signaled that Danni and the other two were on their way, and the pair looked about to see the Spacecaster soaring into the dark sky, her fiery plumes blotting out the stars. The man gasped and grabbed at his throat with one hand, and Yomin Carr, with those same two fingers, struck him a blow on the wrist that broke his grasp on the tower.
And then the scream as Garth Breise tumbled over backward, plummeting down the side of the tower, striking one cross pole and launching into a somersaulting fall. Yomin Carr was glad that Garth had redirected all the floodlights—they gave him a better view of the final descent and the bone-smashing impact.
He had one moment of regret: when he considered that Garth might have crushed some of his pet dweebits. Already far, far away, Danni Quee looked out her rear viewer at the receding Belkadan, and her expression fast changed from wistful to curious.
The third member of the team, a short, dark man with hair the consistency of wool, Cho Badeleg, came up beside her. Bensin Tomri gasped when he brought the Spacecaster about; then all three stared in horror when they noted the scope of the storm, and the greenish yellow tint of it, something that reminded Danni of the sunsets she had been witnessing of late.
Danni pulled out her portable communicator. Did you hear? Danni let her questioning gaze fall over each of the other two. Do we go on, or go back? In the end, though, she was a devoted scientist, and certainly it seemed to her as if she and the other two were taking a greater risk than any of those they had left behind. Tamaktis Breetha had opposed the strike, knowing it would lead to open warfare between the planets, but when several high-ranking Rhommamoolian officials had been found murdered, the former mayor had found little support for his arguments.
For hours and VECTOR PRIME hours, the executor and Shok Tinoktin had studied the planetary courses and the positioning of the New Republic ship and had launched the missiles from a point where the initial explosive liftoff and subsequent burn would be most difficult to detect. To further the probability of success, Nom Anor had spent hours that morning talking to Commander Ackdool, acting conciliatory and explaining that, now that the meddlesome Leia Solo was gone, he and the commander might strike a deal to bring an end to the conflict.
They had even scheduled a meeting on the Mediator between Nom Anor and his delegates and a diplomatic party from Osarian. Commander Ackdool liked the thought of scoring such an unexpected diplomatic victory, Nom Anor knew.
It was said that Ackdool had been given the ship primarily because he was a Mon Calamarian, who, with the retirement of Ackbar, were underrepresented among the fleet.
Ackdool had heard the quiet murmurs of discontent concerning his appointment, of course, and that would make him all the more eager.
Furthermore, the commander was so secure about the overwhelming power of his ship compared to the meager power of the people on the two planets that he would never suspect the ruse.
Of course, the fallout from this attack would be great and would likely force Nom Anor to flee Rhommamool altogether. But that was fine with him, for his mission here was nearly complete, and if those missiles hit Osa-Prime and brought the war to full conflagration, then he would happily move on.
Three hours later, Nom Anor received the outraged call from Commander Ackdool. Nom Anor took full responsibility, justifying the attack in response to the assassinations of several officials—officials he had secretly ordered killed.
Then he curtly cut Ackdool off. He and Shok Tinoktin focused on the video screen, tuned to an Osarian broadcast channel. They heard the frantic reporter in Osa-Prime detailing the confusion and panic and then, after a pause, solemnly reporting the sight of the missile trails.
The holocam turned up in time to catch the descending lines of fire streaking through the night sky. Other missiles and scores of starfighters went up to meet them. Moments later, Osa-Prime was in flames. Nom Anor thought it a particularly glorious day. Han and Chewie had flown here from Coruscant, explaining to their passengers, Jacen, Anakin, C-3PO, and Leia, only that they needed to make one stop before bouncing out to the Outer Rim.
Leia had managed to elude Bolpuhr on Coruscant, leaving the Noghri behind in a den with his kin. Bolpuhr, despite his good intentions—and the good intentions of the Noghri in general— toward her, could be more than a bit smothering.
Getting away from Bolpuhr was a small personal victory for her, a symbol that she was breaking free of her station and responsibility, if only for a little while.
There was no trace of sarcasm in his voice, nothing mocking at all about the way he phrased the question. He sighed and shook his head, and turned away yet again.
Luke hopped up to take a seat on the wall beside him. Luke conceded that with a nod. Even Luke, whom he admired so much, was in place in the role of teacher—and a teacher of often harsh lessons.
Above all else, Uncle Luke, with all of those harrowing experiences behind him, and despite the obvious trials ahead of him, seemed to Jacen to be in a place of spiritual comfort, a place of harmony. Here was this man, the epitome of what it was to be a Jedi Knight, and Jacen, though he recognized that truth, meant to argue that very philosophy against him. I think we feel pretty much the same way about the Force. And with those powers come responsibilities. Jacen echoed the word aloud, and as he said it, in more of a questioning manner than a statement, he began to understand.
It was good for a Jedi to question, he knew. Discipline was necessary, but unquestioning obedience was a limiting thing, not a growing one. Leia turned to the droid and scowled fiercely, and even more so when she heard Mara laughing behind her.
Sometimes—no, all the time! Across the room, on the bridge of the Jade Sabre, Mara surely understood. Leia turned and nodded.
Just Leia. Mara smiled all the wider. Then she contrasted her desires against those of Mara, who wanted to begin the adventure of children, who wanted to remain vibrant and in the middle of things, tutoring Jaina, living through Jaina.
Leia felt no jealousy at all in that moment of revelation. Just sadness, wishing there was some way she could help Mara rid herself of the dreaded disease and get all that she desired—and deserved. Mara stared at her curiously. The place was loud and rowdy, with thugs from several worlds—human, Bothan, Rodian, Tervig, Vuvrian, Snivvian—milling about, cutting deals and cutting each other.
If you killed a rival in the Foam and Sizzle bloodlessly, and disposed of the body, nobody noticed or cared; if you made a mess in the process, you had to flip over a few coins to cover the cost of cleaning. The Wookiee looked down at the porcine creature and growled, and the Gamorrean stumbled away, tripping to the floor and not even bothering to try to get back up, just crawling away from the huge and imposing Wookiee with all speed.
Han liked having a Wookiee beside him. Chewie looked down at him and issued a series of protesting grunts and groans. Chewie recognized the target, a notorious con artist named Dugo Bagy, and gave another less-than-enthusiastic groan. The pair bumped their way through the establishment, through the crowd, and when they finally had a straight line of sight to Dugo Bagy, and Dugo Bagy to them, the Sullustan scoffed down his drink and started to move away.
Han signaled left, and Chewie circled that way, while Han went right. Just to talk with you makes me suspect. Dugo Bagy leaned back and held up his hands helplessly.
With a sigh, Dugo Bagy leaned in, and Han and Chewie did likewise, the three going into an informal huddle. Many have died in trying. Lando will see the way. Dugo Bagy smiled wryly. He knew all about Kyp, and now it made sense to him. Also, though none of the four spoke of it openly, having a mission now helped them get through their grief over the accidental death of Garth Breise.
They had all known the risks when they had come out here, of course, into a wild and unexplored land, but still, losing one of the team had hit many of them hard, especially Tee-ubo. She knew that Bensin Tomri would be devastated by the news, if they could find some way to relay it to the now-distant Spacecaster.
Jerem was obviously the least comfortable with his weapon. Not a warrior, the slender, gentle Jerem had been chosen to go out into the dangerous Belkadan jungle because he was the most knowledgeable member of the team with regard to geology and climatology. If the brewing storm Danni Quee had called back to warn about would truly pose a danger to ExGal-4, Jerem Cadmir would be the one to give the most accurate early warning. The team was making painfully slow progress through the tangles.
Tee-ubo eyed him unappreciatively. They had already fought out this debate, back at the compound. Given the angle and the calculated winds, they could cross the three hundred kilometers of VECTOR PRIME the basin for roughly the same amount of fuel that would have been used flying over the trees to the lip of the basin. So they pressed on, hot and sweaty in the steamy air, and as night descended, they found a thick nook high in a tree to call a campsite.
They got little sleep, for the jungle resounded with threatening sounds, low growls and hisses that seemed to come from right beside them. Despite the threat, though, they found no open challenge, but so disturbing were those sounds that the team set off early, determined to make the basin lip before the next nightfall. And they did, arriving at the rocky precipice on the edge of the jungle overlooking the huge valley with hours to spare. Hours they would not waste.
They flew on right through twilight and into the darkness, preferring the cold winds to the sounds emanating from the trees far below.
There were no great flying predators on Belkadan, as far as they knew. Tee-ubo measured their progress by the hour, not the kilometer; given the minimum fuel burn gliding with the wind, she figured they could go for about four standard hours before exhausting the first half of their fuel.
When the time came to land, Bendodi fired a portable rocket flare into the canopy below, and the group used its guiding light to put down. They landed without incident, despite some very real and well-grounded fears propagated by the tumult of roars and shrieks in the region. It was shorter than expected. Tee-ubo opened her eyes to the sound of coughing, a thick, mucus-filled hack. At first, she thought a thick ground fog had come up, but as the stench hit her, a noxious, rotten-egg smell, she realized that it was something else.
Hardly able to see, her eyes teary and stinging, Tee-ubo fumbled with her pack, finally pulling out the small hood and tank. Jerem Cadmir had moved off along one branch with a light and seemed to be studying the leaves. The compound could be made completely self-sustaining, able to hold back whatever fumes Belkadan could throw at them. Several of the other ExGal stations, with the same equipment as this one, had been situated on worlds far more hostile, one on a spinning lump of barren rock that was completely bereft of any atmosphere.
They looked to him questioningly. Tee-ubo checked her chronometer. And they did, and when the sun came up, exploding brilliantly over the eastern horizon, they grew even more alarmed. For all the forest about them seemed to be on fire, sending greenish orange smoke up into the air.
And all the green leaves had turned yellow. The man stood holding a leaf, staring at it wide-eyed and shaking his head. Jerem quickly went to one small plant and dug it up, roots and all, and as he did, some curious beetles, reddish brown, scampered out of the hole.
Hardly waiting, she fired up the pack. Or tried to. It sputtered and coughed, even popped off enough once to jolt Tee-ubo into the air, a short hop and nothing more. Then it went dead. Even as he spoke, they heard a rustle to the side. They all tensed—Luther and Bendodi reached for their blasters—as a redcrested cougar broke through the brush.
Right before their eyes, the creature staggered a few more steps and then fell to the ground, breathing its last. She started to take off her pack, but Bendodi stopped her. Off they went, as fast as their feet would carry them. After an hour—and half their oxygen—they still could not see the end of the noxious fumes before them. Bendodi sent Luther up yet another tree, while he and the others took out their comlinks and spread out, trying to find some hole in the static.
Hopelessness descended upon them, as thick as the fumes. He sniffled, then crinkled his nose in disgust. One of us has to get back and warn them. He barely got to the edge of the brush, though, before a blaster rang out and Luther tumbled backward, shot through the chest.
Tee-ubo and Jerem rushed to Luther, but too late—the man was quite dead. Tee-ubo took his oxygen pack, grabbed the stunned and seemingly frozen Jerem by the arm and hauled him after her, breaking into a dead run to the north.
And then they heard another shot and knew that Bendodi, too, was dead. After another hour, no end to the biological disaster in sight, Jerem had to change tanks. He motioned for Tee-ubo to check her level, as well. Tee-ubo tossed him her extra tank. Tee-ubo pulled off her hood and threw it far to the side. Immediately, her eyes turned reddish yellow, and foamy liquid began running from her nose. He ran to the north, blinded by the horrid fog and his own tears.
Salvatore Free Download pages Author R. Salvatore Submitted by: Jane Kivik. Read Online Download. Salvatore by R. Hot The Awakening by L. Smith by L. Hot Origins by L. Great book, Vector Prime pdf is enough to raise the goose bumps alone.
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