【预订】Shatterpoint: Star Wars Legends
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库存2件
广东广州
认证卖家担保交易快速发货售后保障
作者Matt Stover
出版社Random House Worlds
ISBN9780593358788
出版时间2021-06
装帧平装
定价88元
货号YB-86061
上书时间2024-06-29
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In this essential Star Wars Legends novel, Mace Windu must journey to his long-forgotten homeworld to confront a terrifying mystery with dire personal consequences.
The jungle planet of Haruun Kal, homeworld of the legendary Jedi Master Mace Windu, has become a battleground in the increasing hostilities between the Republic and the renegade Separatist movement. The Jedi Council has sent Depa Billaba—Mace’s former Padawan and fellow Council member—to Haruun Kal to train the local tribesmen as a guerrilla resistance force. But now the Separatists have pulled back, and Depa has not returned. The only clue to her disappearance is a cryptic recording left at the scene of a brutal massacre: a recording that hints of madness and murder, and the darkness in the jungle . . . a recording in Depa’s own voice.
Mace Windu trained Depa. Only he can find her. Only he can learn what has changed her. Only he can stop her. He will leave behind the Republic he serves, the civilization he believes in, everything but his passion for peace and his devotion to his former Padawan. And he will learn the terrible price that must be paid when keepers of the peace are forced to make war. . . .
在这部重要的《星球大战》传奇小说中，梅斯·温杜必须前往他早已被遗忘的家乡，面对一个可怕的谜团，并带来可怕的个人后果。
丛林哈鲁恩·卡尔星球是传奇绝地大师梅斯·温杜的家乡，已成为共和国与叛徒分离主义运动之间日益加剧的敌对行动的战场。绝地委员会已将德帕·比拉巴（梅斯的前学徒兼委员会成员）派往哈鲁恩·卡尔，训练当地部落成员成为游击抵抗力量。但现在分离主义者已经撤退，德帕还没有回来。她失踪的唯一线索是残酷屠杀现场留下的一份神秘录音：这份录音暗示着疯狂和谋杀，以及丛林中的黑暗。 。 。德帕自己的声音录音。
梅斯·温杜训练了德帕。只有他才能找到她。只有他才能知道是什么改变了她。只有他才能阻止她。他将留下他所服务的共和国、他所信仰的文明，除了他对和平的热情和对他的前学徒的忠诚之外的一切。他将了解到，当和平的守护者被迫发动战争时，必须付出可怕的代价。 。 。 。
作者简介
Matthew Stover is the New York Times bestselling author of Star Wars: The New Jedi Order Traitor, as well as The Blade of Tyshalle, Heroes Die, Iron Dawn, and Jericho Moon. He is a student of the Degerberg Blend. This jeet kune do concept is a mixture of approximately twenty-five different fighting arts from around the world. He lives in Chicago with artist and writer Robyn Fielder.
精彩内容
INTRODUCTION
DANGEROUSLY SANE
From THE PRIVATE JOURNALS of Mace Windu
In my dreams, I always do it right.
In my dreams, I ’m on the arena balcony. Geonosis. Orange glare slices shadow from my eyes. Below on the sand: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Senator Padmé Amidala. On the rough-shaped stone within reach of my arm: Nute Gunray.Within reach of my blade:Jango Fett.
And Master Dooku.
No. Master no more. Count Dooku.
I may never get used to calling him that. Even in dreams.
Jango Fett bristles with weapons.An instinctive killer: the deadliest man in the galaxy. Jango can kill me in less than a second. I know it. Even if I had never seen Kenobi ’s report from Kamino, I can feel the violence Jango radiates: in the Force, a pulsar of death.
But I do it right.
My blade doesn’t light the underside of Fett ’s square jaw .I don ’t waste time with words. I don ’t hesitate.
I believe .
In my dreams, the purple •are of my blade sizzles the gray hairs of
Dooku ’s beard, and in the critical semisecond it takes Jango Fett to aim
and fire, I twitch that blade and take Dooku with me into death.
And save the galaxy from civil war.
I could have done it.
I could have done it.
Because I knew .I could feel it.
In the swirl of the Force around me, I could feel the connections Dooku had forged among Jango and the Trade Federation, the Geonosians, the hole Separatist movement: connections of greed and fear, of deception and bald intimidation. I did not know what they were —I did not know how Dooku had forged them, or why —but I felt their power: the power of what I now know is a web of treason he had woven to catch the galaxy.
I could feel that without him to maintain its eave, to repair its flaws and double its thinning strands, the web would rot, would shrivel and decay until a mere breath would shred it and scatter its strings into the infinite stellar winds.
Dooku as the shatterpoint.
I knew it.
That is my gift.
Imagine a Corusca gem: a mineral hose interlocking crystalline structure makes it harder than durasteel. You can strike one with a five-kilo hammer and do no more than dent the hammer ’s face. Yet the same cystalline structure that gives the Corusca strength also gives it shatterpoints: spots here a precise application of carefully measured force —no more than a gentle tap —will break it into pieces. But to find these shatterpoints, to use them to shape the Corusca gem into beauty and utility, requires years of study, an intimate understanding of crystal structure, and rigorous practice to train the hand in the perfect
combination of strength and precision to produce the desired cut.
Unless you have a talent like mine.
I can see shatterpoints.
The sense is not sight, but see is the closest word Basic has for it: it is a perception, a feel of how hat I look upon fits into the Force, and how the Force binds it to itself and to everything else. I as six or seven standard years old —well into my training in the Jedi Temple—before I realized that other students, full-grown Jedi Knights, even wise
Masters, could sense such connections only with difficulty, and only with concentration and practice. The Force shows me strengths and weaknesses, hidden flaws and unexpected uses. It shows me vectors of stress that squeeze or stretch, torque or shear; it shows me how patterns of these vectors intersect to form the matrix of reality.
Put simply: when I look at you through the Force, I can see where you break.
I looked at Jango Fett on the sand in the Geonosian arena. A perfect combination of weapons, skills, and the will to use them: an interlocking crystal of killer. The Force hinted a shatterpoint, and I left a headless corpse on the sand. The deadliest man in the galaxy.
Now: just dead.
Situations have shatterpoints, like gems. But those of situations are fluid, ephemeral, appearing for a bare instant, vanishing again to leave no trace of their existence. They are always a function of timing.
There is no such thing as a second chance.
If —when —I next encounter Dooku, he will be the war ’s shatterpoint no longer. I can ’t stop this war with a single death.
But on that day in the Geonosian arena, I could have.
Some days after the battle, Master Yoda had found me in a meditation chamber at the Temple.” Your friend he was,” the ancient Master had said, even as he limped through the door. It is a peculiar gift of Yoda ’s that he always seems to know hat I’m thinking. “Respect you owed him. Even affection. Cut him down you could not —not for
merely a feeling.”
But I could have.
I should have.
Our Order prohibits personal attachments for precisely this reason.
Had I not honored him so —even loved him —the galaxy might be at
peace right no .Merely a feeling, Yoda said.
I am a Jedi.
I have been trained since birth to trust my feelings.
But which feelings should I trust?
When I faced the choice to kill a former Jedi Master, or to save Kenobi and young Skywalker and the Senator ...I let the Force choose for me. I followed my instincts.
I made the Jedi choice.
And so: Dooku escaped. And so: the galaxy is at war. And so: many of my friends have been slaughtered.
There is no such thing as a second chance.
Strange: Jedi I am, yet I drown in regret for having spared a life.
Many survivors of Geonosis suffer from nightmares. I have heard tale after tale from the Jedi healers ho have counseled them. Nightmares are inevitable; there has not been such a slaughter of Jedi since the Seth War, four thousand years ago. None of them could have imagined how it would feel to stand in that arena, surrounded by the corpses of their
friends, in the blazing orange noon and the stench and the blood-soaked sand. I may be the only veteran of Geonosis who doesn’t have nightmares of that place.
Because in my dreams, I always do it right.
My nightmare is hat I find hen I wake up.
Jedi have shatterpoints,too.
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