Dune: House Harkonnen (Prelude to Dune Series #2)

Dune: House Harkonnen (Prelude to Dune Series #2)

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October 2000

House Harkonnen

The unforgettable saga of life before Dune -- introduced in Dune: House Atreides -- continues in the thrilling pages of Dune: House Harkonnen. Revisit the thrilling world created by the late visionary Frank Herbert in his legendary Dune series, amid a sprawling universe of magic, mystery, and wonder.

At last, Shaddam sits on the Golden Lion Throne, his precarious position as ruler of the Known Universe contingent on only one thing: production of a male heir. His leadership is further threatened by the ambitious Baron Vladimir, who targets House Atreides and the mysterious Bene Gesserit Sisterhood as he inches toward unparalleled dominance. The Sisterhood is unaware of this threat, working assiduously to culminate the work of centuries in the creation of a god-child. Is he a savior or an icon who will sweep away emperors, houses, and history itself in a manifestation of religious tyranny?

Under numbing slavery, the desert world Dune, the machine world Ix, and countless other conquered planets toil under exploitative new masters who hunger most notably for the addictive spice mixture found only on the planet of Dune. As small bands of renegades begin to battle back, they light the spark of freedom, introducing fresh and unexpected heroes to a defeated land.

For Leto Atreides, complacent and comfortable as ruler of his house, it is a time of momentous choices: between love and honor, friendship and duty, safety and destiny. In Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson's thrilling addition to the Dune saga, these choices pave the way for a quest for greatness, or an unending spiral of destruction.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781400143627
Publisher: Tantor Media, Inc.
Publication date: 11/04/2009
Series: Prelude to Dune Series , #2
Edition description: Library - Unabridged CD
Product dimensions: 7.00(w) x 7.00(h) x 1.80(d)

About the Author

Brian Herbert, the son of Frank Herbert, is the author of numerous acclaimed science fiction novels, including Sidney's Comet; Sudanna,Sudanna; Prisoners of Arionn; The Race for God (a Nebula Award nominee); and Man of Two Worlds (written with Frank Herbert). He has also written Dreamer of Dune, a comprehensive biography of his illustrious father.

Kevin J. Anderson has written twenty-six national bestsellers and has been nominated for the Nebula Award, the Bram Stroker Award, and the SFX Reader's Choice Award. He also set the Guinness world record for "Largest Single-Author Book Signing."

Read an Excerpt

WHEN THE SANDSTORM came howling up from the south, Pardot Kynes was more interested in taking meteorological readings than in seeking safety. His son Liet—only twelve years old, but raised in the harsh ways of the desert—ran an appraising eye over the ancient weather pod they had found in the abandoned botanical testing station. He was not confident the machine would function at all.

Then Liet gazed back across the sea of dunes toward the approaching tempest. "The wind of the demon in the open desert. Hulasikali Wala."

"Coriolis storm," Kynes corrected, using a scientific term instead of the Fremen one his son had selected. "Winds across the open flatlands are amplified by the planet's revolutionary motion. Gusts can reach speeds up to seven hundred kilometers per hour."

As his father talked, the young man busied himself sealing the egg-shaped weather pod, checking the vent closures, the heavy doorway hatch, the stored emergency supplies. He ignored their signal generator and distress beacon; the static from the sandstorm would rip any transmissions to electromagnetic shreds.

In pampered societies Liet would have been considered a boy, but life among the hard-edged Fremen had given him a tightly coiled adulthood that few others achieved even at twice his age. He was better equipped to handle an emergency than his father.

The elder Kynes scratched his sandy-gray beard. "A good storm like this can stretch across four degrees of latitude." He powered up the dim screens of the pod's analytical devices. "It lifts particles to an altitude of two thousand meters and suspends them in the atmosphere, so thatlong after the storm passes, dust continues to fall from the sky."

Liet gave the hatch lock a final tug, satisfied that it would hold against the storm. "The Fremen call that EI-Sayal, the 'rain of sand.'"

"One day when you become Planetologist, you'll need to use more technical language," Pardot Kynes said in a professorial tone. "We still send the Emperor occasional reports, though not as often as I should. I doubt he ever reads them." He tapped one of the instruments. "Ah, I believe the atmospheric front is almost upon us."

Liet removed a porthole cover to see the oncoming wall of white, tan, and static. "A Planetologist must use his eyes, as well as scientific language. Just look out the window, Father."

Kynes grinned at his son. "It's time to raise the pod." Operating long-dormant controls, he managed to get the dual bank of suspensor engines functioning. The pod tugged against gravity, heaving itself off the ground.

The mouth of the storm lunged toward them, and Liet closed the cover plate, hoping the ancient meteorological apparatus would hold together. He trusted his father's intuition to a certain extent, but not his practicality.

The egg-shaped pod rose smoothly on suspensors, buffeted by precursor breezes. "Ah, there we are," Kynes said. "Now our work begins—"

The storm hit them like a blunt club, and vaulted them high into the maelstrom.

THE POD'S ANCIENT SUSPENSORS hummed against the Coriolis howl like a nest of angry wasps. The meteorological vessel bounced on swirling currents of air, a steel-walled balloon. Wind-borne dust scoured the hull.

"This reminds me of the aurora storms I saw on Salusa Secundus," Kynes mused. "Amazing things—very colorful and very dangerous. The hammer-wind can come up from out of nowhere and crush you flat. You wouldn't want to be caught outside."

"I don't want to be outside in this one, either," Liet said.

Stressed inward, one of the side plates buckled; air stole through the breach with a thin shriek. Liet lurched across the deck toward the leak. He'd kept the repair kit and foam sealant close at hand, certain the decrepit pod would rupture. "We are held in the hand of God, and could be crushed at any moment."

"That's what your mother would say," the Planetologist said without looking up from the skeins of information pouring through the recording apparatus into an old datapack. "Look, a gust clocked at eight hundred kilometers per hour!" His voice carried no fear, only excitement. "What a monster storm!"

Liet looked up from the stone-hard sealant he had slathered over the thin crack. The squealing sound of leaking air faded, replaced by a muffled hurricane din.

"If we were outside, this wind would scour the flesh off our bones."

Kynes pursed his lips. "Quite likely true, but you must learn to express yourself objectively and quantitatively. 'Scour the flesh off our bones' is not a phrasing one would include in a report to the Emperor."

The battering wind, the scraping sand, and the roar of the storm reached a crescendo; then, with a burst of pressure inside the survey pod, it all broke into a bubble of silence. Liet blinked, swallowing hard to clear his ears and throat. Intense quiet throbbed in his skull. Through the hull of the creaking vessel, he could still hear Coriolis winds like whispered voices in a nightmare.

"We're in the eye." Glowing with delight, Pardot Kynes stepped away from his instruments. "A sietch at the center of the storm, a refuge where you would least expect it."

Blue static discharges crackled around them, sand and dust rubbing together to generate electromagnetic fields. "I would prefer to be back in the sietch right now," Liet admitted.

The meteorological pod drifted along in the eye, safe and silent after the intense battering of the storm wall. Confined together in the small vessel, the two had a chance to talk, as father and son.

But they didn't....

Ten minutes later they struck the opposite sandstorm wall, thrown back into the insane flow with a glancing blow of the dust-thick winds. Liet stumbled and held on; his father managed to maintain his footing. The vessel's hull vibrated and rattled.

Kynes looked at his controls, at the floor, and then at his son. "I'm not sure what to do about this. The suspensors are"—with a lurch, they began to plunge, as if their safety rope had been severed—"failing."

Liet held himself against an eerie weightlessness as the crippled pod dropped toward the ground, which lay obscured by dusty murk. As they tumbled in the air, the Planetologist continued to work the controls.

The haphazard suspensors sputtered and caught again just before impact. The force from the Holtzman field generator cushioned them enough to absorb the worst of the crash. Then the storm pod slammed into the churned sand, and the Coriolis winds roared overhead like a spice harvester trampling a kangaroo mouse under its treads. A deluge of dust poured down, released from the sky.

Bruised but otherwise unharmed, Pardot and Liet Kynes picked themselves up and stared at each other in the afterglow of adrenaline. The storm headed up and over them, leaving the pod behind....

AFTER WORKING A SANDSNORK out through the clogged vent opening, Liet pumped fresh air into the stale confinement. When he pried open the heavy hatch, a stream of sand fell into the interior, but Liet used a static-foam binder to pack the walls. Using a scoop from his fremkit as well as his bare hands, Liet set to work digging them out.

Pardot Kynes had complete confidence in his son's abilities to rescue them, so he worked in dimness to collate his new weather readings into a single old-style datapack.

Blinking as he pushed himself into the open air like an infant emerging from a womb, Liet stared at the storm-scoured landscape. The desert landscape was reborn: Dunes moved along like a marching herd; familiar landmarks changed; footprints, tents, even small villages erased. The entire basin looked fresh and clean and new.

Covered with pale dust, he scrambled up to more stable sand, where he saw the depression that hid the buried pod. When they'd crashed, the vessel had slammed a crater into the wind-stirred desert surface, just before the passing storm dumped a blanket of sand on top of them.

With Fremen instincts and an inborn sense of direction, Liet was able to determine their approximate position, not far from the South False Wall. He recognized the rock forms, the cliff bands, the peaks and rilles. If the winds had blown them a kilometer farther, the pod would have crashed into the blistering mountains, an ignominious end for the great Planetologist, whom the Fremen revered as their Umma, their prophet.

Liet called down into the hole that marked the buried vessel. "Father, I believe there's a sietch in the nearby cliffs. If we go there, the Fremen can help us dig out the pod."

"Good idea," Kynes answered, his voice muffled. "Go check to make sure. I'll stay here and work. I've... got an idea."

With a sigh, the young man walked across the sand toward the jutting elbows of ocher rock. His steps were without rhythm, so as not to attract one of the great worms: step, drag, pause . . . drag, pause, step-step... drag, step, pause, step....

Liet's comrades at Red Wall Sietch, especially his blood brother Warrick, envied him for all the time he spent with the Planetologist. Umma Kynes had brought a vision of paradise to the desert people—they believed his dream of reawakening Dune, and followed the man.

Without the knowledge of the Harkonnen overlords—who were only on Arrakis to mine the spice, and viewed people only as a resource to be squeezed—Kynes oversaw armies of secret, devoted workers who planted grasses to anchor the mobile dunes; they established groves of cacti and hardy scrub bushes in sheltered canyons, watered by dew-precipitators. In the unexplored south polar regions, Fremen had planted palmaries, which had gained a foothold and now flourished. He had built a lush demonstration project at Plaster Basin that produced flowers, fresh fruit, and dwarf trees.

But though the Planetologist could orchestrate grandiose, world-spanning plans, Liet did not trust his father's common sense enough to leave him alone for long.

The young man went along the ridge until he found subtle blaze marks on the rocks, a jumbled path no outsider would notice, messages in the placement of off-colored stones that promised food and shelter, under the respected al'amyah Travelers' Benediction rules.

With the aid of strong Fremen in the sietch, they could excavate the weather pod and drag it to a hiding place where it would be salvaged or repaired; within an hour, the Fremen would remove all traces and let the desert fall back into brooding silence.

But when he looked back at the crash site, Liet was alarmed to see the battered vessel moving and lurching, already protruding a third of the way out of the sand. With a deep-throated hum, the pod heaved and strained, like a beast of burden caught in a Bela Tegeusan quagmire. But the pulsing suspensors had only enough strength to wrench the vessel upward a few centimeters at a time.

Liet froze when he realized what his father was doing. Suspensors. Out in the open desert!

He ran, tripping and stumbling, an avalanche of powder sand following his footsteps. "Father, stop. Turn them off!" He shouted so loudly that his throat grew raw. With dread in the pit of his stomach, he gazed across the golden ocean of dunes, toward the hellish pit of the faraway Cielago Depression. He scanned for a telltale ripple, the disturbance indicating deep movement....

"Father, come out of there." He skidded to a stop in front of the open hatch as the pod continued to shift back and forth, straining. The suspensor fields thrummed. Grabbing the edge of the doorframe, Liet swung himself through the hatch and dropped inside the weather pod, startling Kynes.

The Planetologist grinned at his son. "It's some sort of automated system—I don't know what controls I bumped into, but this pod just might lift itself out in less than an hour." He turned back to his instruments. "It gave me time to collate all our new data into a single storage—"

Liet grabbed his father by the shoulder and pulled him from the controls. He slammed his hands down on the emergency cutoff switch, and the suspensors faded.

Confused, Kynes tried to protest, but his son urged him toward the open hatch.

"Get out, now! Run as fast as you can toward the rocks."


Liet's nostrils flared in angry exasperation. "Suspensors operate on a Holtzman field, just like shields. You know what happens when you activate a personal shield out in the open sand ?"

"The suspensors are working again?" Kynes blinked, then his eyes lit up as he understood. "Ah! A worm comes."

"A worm always comes. Now run!"

The elder Kynes staggered out of the hatch and dropped to the sand. He recovered his balance and oriented himself in the glaring sun. Seeing the cliff line Liet had indicated, a kilometer away, he trudged off in a jerky, mismatched walk, stepping, sliding, pausing, hopping forward in a complicated dance. The young Fremen dropped out of the hatch and followed along, as they made their way toward the safety of rocks.

Before long, they heard a hissing, rolling sound from behind. Liet glanced over his shoulder, then pushed his father over a dune crest. "Faster. I don't know how much time we'll have." They increased their pace. Pardot stumbled, got back up.

Ripples arrowed across the sands directly toward the half-buried pod. Toward them. Dunes lurched, rolled, then flattened with the inexorable tunneling of a deep worm rising to the surface.

"Run with your very soul!" They sprinted toward the cliffs, crossed a dune crest, slid down, then surged forward again, the soft sand pulling at their feet. Liet's spirits rose when he saw the safety of rocks less than a hundred meters away.

The hissing grew louder as the giant worm picked up speed. The ground beneath their boots trembled.

Finally, Kynes reached the first boulders and clutched them like an anchor, panting and wheezing. Liet pushed him farther, though, onto the slopes, to be sure the monster could not rise from the sand and strike them.

Minutes later, sitting on a ledge, wordless as they sucked hot air through their nostrils to catch their breath, Pardot Kynes and his son stared back to watch a churning whirlpool form around the half-buried weather pod. In the loosening powder, as the viscosity of the stirred sand changed, the pod shifted and began to sink.

The heart of the whirlpool rose up in a cavernous scooped mouth. The desert monster swallowed the offending vessel along with tons of sand, forcing all the debris down into a gullet lined with crystal teeth. The worm sank back into the arid depths, then Liet watched the ripples of its passage, slower now, returning into the empty basin....

In the pounding silence that followed, Pardot Kynes did not look exhilarated from his near brush with death. Instead, he appeared dejected. "We lost all that data." The Planetologist heaved a deep breath. "I could have used our readings to understand those storms better."

Liet reached inside a front pocket of his stillsuit and held up the old-style datapack he had snatched from the pod's instrument panel. "Even while watching out for our lives—I can still pay attention to research."

Kynes beamed with fatherly pride.

Under the desert sun, they hiked up the rugged path to the safety of the sietch.

From the Audio Cassette edition.

Table of Contents

What People are Saying About This

From the Publisher

"Strong characterizations, consistent plotting, and rich detail provide this second of a trilogy of prequels with the same evocative power of the original novels." —-Library Journal


Inventing History for Dune
When Frank Herbert first created the Dune universe almost four decades ago, he placed his story on a canvas that spanned more than 20,000 years. A masterpiece of world building and history, Dune is richly detailed, full of characters and cultures, clearly giving the impression that the author knows much more than he's letting on.

One of the most tantalizing events mentioned in all six of Frank Herbert's Dune novels is the Butlerian Jihad, a titanic conflict of humans against thinking machines, which serves as the genesis for many of the familiar ingredients in Dune. This fascinating part of Dune history is the single event most hotly anticipated by Frank Herbert fans.

After completing three immediate prequels to Dune -- House Atreides, House Harkonnen, and House Corrino -- we reawakened the fervor for Frank Herbert's grand history. Many readers have returned to the original novels, and new fans have picked up the books. Our first prequel trilogy features all familiar characters and events, leading directly into Dune.

For The Butlerian Jihad, we had to travel back 10,000 years before the events in the original story. This posed a difficult, but entertaining, challenge -- to create an original universe, building our own characters and events, yet one that captures the flavor and essence of Dune.

Armed with Frank Herbert's unpublished notes and background material, we had some important clues to the events of the Butlerian Jihad, but none of the extensive details. Building on this material, The Butlerian Jihad answers the most vital questions fans have been asking: the circumstances behind the great betrayal that made mortal enemies of House Atreides and House Harkonnen, the foundations of the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood, as well as the creation of the Order of Mentats, the Suk doctors, the Swordmasters of Ginaz, and the Spacing Guild. We also show the dramatic struggle of the oppressed Zensunni Wanderers who escape their bondage and flee to an uncharted desert world, where they settle among the spice and sandworms and declare themselves "Free men" of Dune. Readers will recognize some familiar names and meet new friends and enemies.

Because The Butlerian Jihad is so far removed from the original classic novel, we felt we had a greater freedom but also a greater responsibility. We are opening a new chapter in this grand history, yet it must be familiar enough to belong beside the other Dune novels. We created a new set of characters that we found remarkable in their own right -- the half-machine tyrant Agamemnon and his brainwashed son Vorian Atreides, the dedicated free human Xavier Harkonnen, the genius scientist Tio Holtzman, and of course the incomparable heroine, Serena Butler. The independent robot Erasmus -- whom Publishers Weekly calls "a Thinking Machine Hannibal Lecter with whimsical Mr. Spock-ish meditations" -- is probably the best villain either of us has ever concocted. The Butlerian Jihad is just the first of a projected trilogy. Frank Herbert has left us a vast landscape to explore, but at least we have a map. We still have a lot more history to create. Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson

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Dune: House Harkonnen (Prelude to Dune Series #2) 4.3 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 61 reviews.
Guest More than 1 year ago
All I can ask is where did it all go wrong? This book devotes so much of its effort on plots that just lead nowhere. For instance, the introduction and killing of victor by his mother, what a bad sub-plot that had no real place in this novel, also the deaths of the entire former ixion leaders was dry. Also there was too much lack of action by the emperor and the houses in responce to the repeated 'violations'. for some unknown reasone the authors spend so much time trying to spin indivdual stories together when they shouldn't be involved with eachother. there are prehaps 50 to a hundered pages of actual importance in this 600 page book, the rest is just filler. It is sad to say but this book doesn't deserve its title, or to be part of a the Dune Saga in any shape or form. The whole book has a feel of a rush job, and from reading interviews I get the impression that they finished their third book already, probably even more of a rush. WHEN WILL AUTHORS RELIZE THAT READERS WOULD RATHER WAIT 5 YEARS PER SEQUAL THEN READ 5 BOOKS IN 3 years.
clark.hallman on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
This is another excellent prequel to Frank Herbert¿s Dune series. It was co-written by Herbert¿s son and Kevin Anderson, who have collaborated on several other Dune prequels including Dune House Atreides. I really liked this one. It develops the total evilness of Baron Harkonnen and his nephew, Rabban. The Benne Gesserit enhance their involvement (and influence) in both House Attreides and House Harkonnon. Leto, who eventually will be Paul¿s father, has a son with his concubine, but tradgety ensues due to her jealousy over Leto¿s growing relationship with the Bene Gesserit, Jessica. Liet Kynes grows into a Freman freedom fighter on Arrakis and takes over his father¿s role as Planetologist. Duncan Idaho endures rigorous and life-threatening training on Ginaz to survive as a Swordmaster and Gurney Halleck fights as a smuggler to cause as many problems for the Emperor on Giedi Prime. There is much political intrigue and brutal action in this book.
conformer on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
I got a hundred pages in before saying to myself, "What was I thinking?" Brian Herbert's half (what there was of it that was detectable; I severely suspect that the only reason his name is on the dust jacket was for marketing purposes) barely covers up the stink of Kevin Anderson's goopy, vapid, deliberate "prose."Contrary to the reviewer's blurbs, this cash cow in the shape of a book is painfully contrived, insultingly predictable, and completely not in the spirit of Dune.Dropped it like it was hot and didn't finish it. Why bother?
Xuenay on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
(Note - I have not read other Dune prequels than this one.)I'd had this book sitting in my bookshelf for a couple of years now, but hadn't previously gotten past the first page. I originally picked it up despite some misgivings - one of the two authors was Kevin J. Anderson, widely reviled for having written some of the most mediocre and uninteresting additions to the Star Wars universe. Still, it was a cheap paperback and I've always loved reading about the bad guys (who hasn't?), so I ended up buying the thing. But then I never got around reading it, partly because of my distrust towards the author, partly because the first couple of pages started off with such an uninteresting scene. But I finally got around reading it last weekend.Unlike you'd assume from the title, it doesn't really concentrate on the Harkonnens. While they certainly do get a respectable amount of attention, the Atreides get as much if not more, and the same goes for a couple of unaffiliated characters. I found the structure of the book to be interesting: the chapters were all pretty short, averaging maybe 5-10 pages each, giving a tensely packed share of one character's doings and then switching to another in the next chapter. While this helped keep the pace fast and the book easy to read, I found that the atmosphere suffered somewhat. I simply didn't have the time to get emotionally involved in each scene before it already switched to the next.From a book named "House Harkonnen", I'd have expected it to deepen the personalities of the Harkonnen characters, tell us more about their house and the society of the planets they ruled, and so on. Not so. Over on tvtropes.org, there's a trope called Kick the Dog. It's that moment where an author wants to make it obvious to even the most dim-witted reader that his villain is really evil, and has the character do something blatantly cold and cruel, like kicking an innocent dog for no reason. With the exception of one character - who's viewed as an incompetent black sheep by the others, and who eventually ends up annoying even the reader for his repeated inability to look enough ahead - Kick the Dog moments are the only kind of scenes that the Harkonnen characters seem to get in the book. They get absolutely no character development of any kind, and seem more like caricatures than real people. By the time you get to the last pages, Vladimir Harkonnen's habit of executing anybody who fails him - whether by their own fault or not - has reached such exaggareted proportions that you feel more like you were watching a children's comic with a cardboard villain than reading a serious book.The book also has the general problem that prequels easily have - you know how things will be by the time of the original series, and thus you know what world-changing plans are doomed to fail. Throughout the book, there are plans that can't succeed, characters that have to die, events that must come to nothing. At one point, a character has a ploy for assassinating both the Emperor and his whole family, an event that would be so cataclysmic and wide-reaching that you're rooting him to succeed just so you'd get to see the consequences - but then you also know that he simply cannot succeed, no matter what. It's all quite frustrating: a good prequel could give entirely new twists to what you thought you knew, giving an entire new dimension to the events in the original books. House Harkonnen does none of that - it takes tidbits mentioned in the original books and expands on them, but not enough to make them really interesting, not adding anything on them that we couldn't have easily imagined from their original description. To top it off, some of the events by which such loose threads are terminated feel all too convenient and contrived.Despite all of this, there's something odd in the book that kept me turning the pages and wouldn't easily allow me to put it down after having started reading it. It feels a bit like the Harry Potter books
bjh13 on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
I was very disappointed with this one. After how good the previous book was, I found it disconcerting we had so many extra plot lines for no reason, along with every scene involving the Harkonnen's being terrible, bordering on ridiculous. The only bright side to this book was further development for Duncan Idaho and Leto Atreides, who continued to be interesting. I hope the characters are handled better in the final book of the trilogy.
AnotherPartOfMeLost on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
The three books are okay to read, definately a must for Dune fans. I read them before rereading the original Dune novel, and while reading the books, I couldn't wait to start reading Dune. Great as an appetizer!
Waianuhea on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Good and not. I'd rather read the original books but this was fun to read.
andersoj on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
The writing in this book sounds like it is the outcome of repeated Babelfish translations from a poorly written Swahili sci-fi movie script. It made me sad for the Dune enterprise, embarrassed for the art of science fiction, and generally pessimistic about the future of humankind.
szarka on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Not on the same level as most of the original series, but still worth reading.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
The first 100 pages were great, the net 50 were OK and the ret was just bad. This book takes place in the year 10,168 AG, and follows the three main houses. What was so bad about this book that it just seemed unnecicary, (729 pages?) After a while I stopped cring and fell asleep and woke up in tim or the credits. The Pardot Kynes parts are as boring as crap, Shaddam IV has grown dull, and i could care less about the Amal. This is getting worse. -D 70%
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