Kindle Price: | $8.99 |
Sold by: | Random House LLC Price set by seller. |
Your Memberships & Subscriptions
![Kindle app logo image](https://cdn.statically.io/img/m.media-amazon.com/images/G/01/kindle/app/kindle-app-logo._CB668847749_.png)
Download the free Kindle app and start reading Kindle books instantly on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required.
Read instantly on your browser with Kindle for Web.
Using your mobile phone camera - scan the code below and download the Kindle app.
Follow the authors
OK
The Lando Calrissian Adventures: Star Wars Legends (Star Wars - Legends) Kindle Edition
Features a bonus section following the novel that includes a primer on the Star Wars expanded universe, and over half a dozen excerpts from some of the most popular Star Wars books of the last thirty years!
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherRandom House Worlds
- Publication dateJune 28, 2011
- Grade level5 and up
- File size5661 KB
- Jedi Twilight: Star Wars Legends (Coruscant Nights, Book I) (Star Wars: Coruscant Nights 1)Kindle Edition$7.99$7.99
- Hard Contact: Star Wars Legends (Republic Commando) (Star Wars: Republic Commando Book 1)Kindle Edition$3.99$3.99
- Winner Lose All--A Lando Calrissian Tale: Star Wars Legends (Novella) (Star Wars - Legends)Kindle Edition$1.99$1.99
- Battle Surgeons: Star Wars Legends (Medstar, Book I) (Star Wars - Legends 1)Kindle Edition$6.99$6.99
- Rogue Squadron: Star Wars Legends (Rogue Squadron) (Star Wars: X-Wing - Legends Book 1)Kindle Edition$12.99$12.99
- The Joiner King: Star Wars Legends (Dark Nest, Book I) (Star Wars The Dark Nest Trilogy 1)Kindle Edition$8.99$8.99
- Saboteur: Star Wars Legends (Darth Maul) (Short Story) (Star Wars: Darth Maul Book 1)Kindle Edition$1.99$1.99
- Revan: Star Wars Legends (The Old Republic) (Star Wars: The Old Republic Book 1)Kindle Edition$3.99$3.99
- Betrayal: Star Wars Legends (Legacy of the Force) (Star Wars: Legacy of the Force Book 1)Kindle Edition$8.99$8.99
Editorial Reviews
From the Inside Flap
From the Back Cover
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Gold-braided flight cap carefully adjusted to a rakish angle, a freshly suave and debonair Captain Lando Calrissian bounded down the boarding ramp of the ultralightspeed freighter Millennium Falcon—and cracked his forehead painfully on the hatchcoaming.
“Ouch! By the Eternal!” Staggered, he glanced discreetly around, making sure no one had seen him, and sighed. Now what the deuce was it Ground Control had wanted him to look at?
They’d put it rather ungenteelly . . .
“What’s that garbage on your thrust-intermix cowling, Em Falcon, over?”
Well, it had been something they could say without insulting references to the amateurish way he’d skidded, setting her down on the Teguta Lusat tarmac. Atmospheric entry hadn’t been anything to brag about, either. Gambler he may have been, scoundrel perhaps, and what he preferred thinking of as “con artiste.”
But ship-handler he was definitely not.
He frowned, reminded of that rental pilot droid he’d wasted a substantial deposit on, back in the Oseon. Let ’em try to collect the rest of that bill!
Stepping—gingerly this time—around the hydraulic ramp lifter, he backed away from under the smallish cargo vessel (which invariably reminded him of a bloated horseshoe magnet), shading his eyes with one hand.
Intermix cowling . . . intermix cowling . . . now where in the name of Chaos would you find—
“Yeek!”
The noise had come from Lando, not the hideous leathery excrescence that had attached itself to his ship. It merely flapped and fluttered grotesquely, glaring down at him with malevolent yellow eyes as it scrabbled feebly at the hull, unaccustomed to the gravity of Rafa IV.
Two hideous leathery excrescences!
Four!
Lando pelted back up the ramp, slamming the Emergency Close lever and continuing to the cockpit. The right-hand seat was temporarily missing, in its place bolted the glittering and useless Class Five pilot droid, its monitor lights blinking idiotically.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” the robot smirked, despite the daylight pouring through the vision screens from outside, “and welcome aboard the pleasure yacht Arleen, now in interstellar transit from Antipose IX to—”
The young gambler snarled with frustration, slapped the pilot’s off switch, and threw himself into the left acceleration couch, just as one of the disgusting alien parasites began suckering its way across the windscreen, fang corrosives clouding the transparency.
“Ground Control? I say, Ground Control! What the devil are these things?”
A long, empty pause. Then Lando remembered: “Oh, yes . . . over!”
“They’re mynocks, you simpering groundlubber! You’re supposed to shake them off in orbit! Now you’ve violated planetary quarantine, and you’ll have to take care of it yourself: nobody’s gonna dirty his—”
With a growl of his own, Lando punched the squelch button. If they weren’t going to help him, he could do without their advice. Mynocks . . . ah, yes: tough, omnivorous creatures, capable of withstanding the rigors of hard vacuum and Absolute temperatures. They were the rats of space, attaching themselves to unwary ships, usually in some asteroid belt.
The Oseon System was nothing but asteroids!
Hitching a ride from sun to sun, planet to planet, mynocks typically—
Good grief! He jumped up, banging his head again, this time on the overhead throttle board—stupid place to put it!—and made quick, if clumsy progress aft to the engine area. He’d just remembered something else he’d read or heard about mynocks: subjected to planet-sized gravity, they collapsed, dying rapidly . . .
After reproducing.
In a locker, he found a vacuum-tight worksuit, also scrounged up a steamhose and couplings. Shucking into the greasy plastic outfit—a pang of regret: he was ruining his mauve velvoid semiformals!—he ratcheted the steamline to a reactor let-off, cranked open the topside airlock, and, trailing hose, clambered out onto the hull.
A mynock waited greedily for him, alerted by the unavoidable rumble of the hatch cover, its spore sacs shiny and distended. It was ugly, perhaps a meter across, winged like a bat, tailed (if that was the proper word for it) like a stingray, poison-toothed like a—
“Yeek!” The mynock, this time.
It floundered toward him, dragging itself along by a ventral sucker-disk. The only thing uglier than mynocks, Lando thought, were the larvae they spawned on planet surfaces. He leaped as it flicked a clawed wingtip at him, his awkwardness aboard ship bred more of unfamiliarity in a new environment than any native lack of agility. He twisted the hose nozzle, spraying the monster with superheated vapor from the Falcon’s thermal-exchange system.
It screamed and writhed, flesh melting away to expose the cartilage it used instead of bones. This, too, reduced quickly, washed down the curved surface of the ship, leaving nothing but gelatinous slime steaming on the spaceport asphalt.
A noise behind him.
Side vision impaired by the suit, Lando whirled just in time to ram the nozzle into a second mynock’s gaping maw. It swelled and burst. Fastidiously, he played steam over himself to remove the dissolving organic detritus, then stalked grimly forward, finally destroying seven of the sickening things in all.
“Good going, Ace!” Teguta Lusat Ground Control sneered through his helmet receiver as he wiggled back through the upper airlock hatchway. “Didn’t you get an instruction booklet when you sent your box-tops in for that pile of junk you’re flying? Over.”
Pile of junk?
The only pile of junk in the neighborhood, thought Lando, sweating in his bulky armor as he cranked the hatch back down and stowed the steamlines, was that brainless rent-a-bot up forward. Hmmm. That gave him an idea.
“Hello, Ground Control,” he warbled pleasantly from the cockpit only seconds after worming back out of the plastic vac-suit. “I’ll have you know that this stout little vessel’s often made the run to your overrated mudball in record-breaking time.”
Once upon a time. At least that’s what her former owner claimed, trying to bid up the battered freighter’s pot value in a sabacc game he was losing badly. Lando’s rented droid had failed miserably to coax anything near the advertised velocities out of the ship.
Probably some trick to it.
“By the way,” Lando continued, “I seem to have the knack of handling this baby now. Would anyone care to purchase a practically new pilot droid? Over?”
“We’ve heard that one before, Millennium Eff. That rental outfit in the Oseon may not maintain offices here, but they’ve got treaty rights. You’ll have to send it back fast-freight. Expensive. Over and out.”
* * *
It wasn’t quite as bad as he’d expected.
Lando shipped the droid back slow-freight, balancing the extra rental time against the transportation costs. Evening had begun to fall before he’d taken care of that, plus all of the complicated official paperwork attendant upon grounding an interstellar spacecraft anywhere the word “civilized” is considered complimentary.
Tonight, he’d relax.
He needed it, after traveling with that confounded robot. Get a feel for the territory—by which he meant identifying potential marks, locating those social gatherings that others foolishly regarded as games of chance.
Tomorrow, he’d take care of business.
The Rafa System was famous for three things: its “life-crystals”; the peculiar orchards from which they were harvested; and what might have been called “ruins” if the colossal monuments left by the Sharu hadn’t remained in such excellent repair.
The crystals were nothing special—as long as you regarded quadrupling human life expectancy “nothing special.” Varying from pinhead to fist-sized, their mere presence near the body was said to enhance intelligence (or stave off senility) and to have some odd effect on dreaming.
They could be cultivated only on the eleven planets, assorted moons, and any other rocks that offered sufficient atmosphere and warmth, of the Rafa System.
The life-orchards themselves were nearly as famous—after the manner of guillotines, disintegration chambers, nerve racks, and electric chairs. It was not the sort of agriculture amenable to automation—the crystals were harvestable only under the most debilitating and menial of conditions. However, the operation was attractive financially because it came with its own built-in sources of cheap labor, two, to be exact: the subhuman natives of the Rafa, plus the criminal and political refuse of a million other systems.
The Rafa was, among its other distinctive features, a penal colony where a life sentence meant certain death.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Gold-braided flight cap carefully adjusted to a rakish angle, a freshly suave and debonair Captain Lando Calrissian bounded down the boarding ramp of the ultralightspeed freighter Millennium Falcon—and cracked his forehead painfully on the hatchcoaming.
“Ouch! By the Eternal!” Staggered, he glanced discreetly around, making sure no one had seen him, and sighed. Now what the deuce was it Ground Control had wanted him to look at?
They’d put it rather ungenteelly . . .
“What’s that garbage on your thrust-intermix cowling, Em Falcon, over?”
Well, it had been something they could say without insulting references to the amateurish way he’d skidded, setting her down on the Teguta Lusat tarmac. Atmospheric entry hadn’t been anything to brag about, either. Gambler he may have been, scoundrel perhaps, and what he preferred thinking of as “con artiste.”
But ship-handler he was definitely not.
He frowned, reminded of that rental pilot droid he’d wasted a substantial deposit on, back in the Oseon. Let ’em try to collect the rest of that bill!
Stepping—gingerly this time—around the hydraulic ramp lifter, he backed away from under the smallish cargo vessel (which invariably reminded him of a bloated horseshoe magnet), shading his eyes with one hand.
Intermix cowling . . . intermix cowling . . . now where in the name of Chaos would you find—
“Yeek!”
The noise had come from Lando, not the hideous leathery excrescence that had attached itself to his ship. It merely flapped and fluttered grotesquely, glaring down at him with malevolent yellow eyes as it scrabbled feebly at the hull, unaccustomed to the gravity of Rafa IV.
Two hideous leathery excrescences!
Four!
Lando pelted back up the ramp, slamming the Emergency Close lever and continuing to the cockpit. The right-hand seat was temporarily missing, in its place bolted the glittering and useless Class Five pilot droid, its monitor lights blinking idiotically.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” the robot smirked, despite the daylight pouring through the vision screens from outside, “and welcome aboard the pleasure yacht Arleen, now in interstellar transit from Antipose IX to—”
The young gambler snarled with frustration, slapped the pilot’s off switch, and threw himself into the left acceleration couch, just as one of the disgusting alien parasites began suckering its way across the windscreen, fang corrosives clouding the transparency.
“Ground Control? I say, Ground Control! What the devil are these things?”
A long, empty pause. Then Lando remembered: “Oh, yes . . . over!”
“They’re mynocks, you simpering groundlubber! You’re supposed to shake them off in orbit! Now you’ve violated planetary quarantine, and you’ll have to take care of it yourself: nobody’s gonna dirty his—”
With a growl of his own, Lando punched the squelch button. If they weren’t going to help him, he could do without their advice. Mynocks . . . ah, yes: tough, omnivorous creatures, capable of withstanding the rigors of hard vacuum and Absolute temperatures. They were the rats of space, attaching themselves to unwary ships, usually in some asteroid belt.
The Oseon System was nothing but asteroids!
Hitching a ride from sun to sun, planet to planet, mynocks typically—
Good grief! He jumped up, banging his head again, this time on the overhead throttle board—stupid place to put it!—and made quick, if clumsy progress aft to the engine area. He’d just remembered something else he’d read or heard about mynocks: subjected to planet-sized gravity, they collapsed, dying rapidly . . .
After reproducing.
In a locker, he found a vacuum-tight worksuit, also scrounged up a steamhose and couplings. Shucking into the greasy plastic outfit—a pang of regret: he was ruining his mauve velvoid semiformals!—he ratcheted the steamline to a reactor let-off, cranked open the topside airlock, and, trailing hose, clambered out onto the hull.
A mynock waited greedily for him, alerted by the unavoidable rumble of the hatch cover, its spore sacs shiny and distended. It was ugly, perhaps a meter across, winged like a bat, tailed (if that was the proper word for it) like a stingray, poison-toothed like a—
“Yeek!” The mynock, this time.
It floundered toward him, dragging itself along by a ventral sucker-disk. The only thing uglier than mynocks, Lando thought, were the larvae they spawned on planet surfaces. He leaped as it flicked a clawed wingtip at him, his awkwardness aboard ship bred more of unfamiliarity in a new environment than any native lack of agility. He twisted the hose nozzle, spraying the monster with superheated vapor from the Falcon’s thermal-exchange system.
It screamed and writhed, flesh melting away to expose the cartilage it used instead of bones. This, too, reduced quickly, washed down the curved surface of the ship, leaving nothing but gelatinous slime steaming on the spaceport asphalt.
A noise behind him.
Side vision impaired by the suit, Lando whirled just in time to ram the nozzle into a second mynock’s gaping maw. It swelled and burst. Fastidiously, he played steam over himself to remove the dissolving organic detritus, then stalked grimly forward, finally destroying seven of the sickening things in all.
“Good going, Ace!” Teguta Lusat Ground Control sneered through his helmet receiver as he wiggled back through the upper airlock hatchway. “Didn’t you get an instruction booklet when you sent your box-tops in for that pile of junk you’re flying? Over.”
Pile of junk?
The only pile of junk in the neighborhood, thought Lando, sweating in his bulky armor as he cranked the hatch back down and stowed the steamlines, was that brainless rent-a-bot up forward. Hmmm. That gave him an idea.
“Hello, Ground Control,” he warbled pleasantly from the cockpit only seconds after worming back out of the plastic vac-suit. “I’ll have you know that this stout little vessel’s often made the run to your overrated mudball in record-breaking time.”
Once upon a time. At least that’s what her former owner claimed, trying to bid up the battered freighter’s pot value in a sabacc game he was losing badly. Lando’s rented droid had failed miserably to coax anything near the advertised velocities out of the ship.
Probably some trick to it.
“By the way,” Lando continued, “I seem to have the knack of handling this baby now. Would anyone care to purchase a practically new pilot droid? Over?”
“We’ve heard that one before, Millennium Eff. That rental outfit in the Oseon may not maintain offices here, but they’ve got treaty rights. You’ll have to send it back fast-freight. Expensive. Over and out.”
* * *
It wasn’t quite as bad as he’d expected.
Lando shipped the droid back slow-freight, balancing the extra rental time against the transportation costs. Evening had begun to fall before he’d taken care of that, plus all of the complicated official paperwork attendant upon grounding an interstellar spacecraft anywhere the word “civilized” is considered complimentary.
Tonight, he’d relax.
He needed it, after traveling with that confounded robot. Get a feel for the territory—by which he meant identifying potential marks, locating those social gatherings that others foolishly regarded as games of chance.
Tomorrow, he’d take care of business.
The Rafa System was famous for three things: its “life-crystals”; the peculiar orchards from which they were harvested; and what might have been called “ruins” if the colossal monuments left by the Sharu hadn’t remained in such excellent repair.
The crystals were nothing special—as long as you regarded quadrupling human life expectancy “nothing special.” Varying from pinhead to fist-sized, their mere presence near the body was said to enhance intelligence (or stave off senility) and to have some odd effect on dreaming.
They could be cultivated only on the eleven planets, assorted moons, and any other rocks that offered sufficient atmosphere and warmth, of the Rafa System.
The life-orchards themselves were nearly as famous—after the manner of guillotines, disintegration chambers, nerve racks, and electric chairs. It was not the sort of agriculture amenable to automation—the crystals were harvestable only under the most debilitating and menial of conditions. However, the operation was attractive financially because it came with its own built-in sources of cheap labor, two, to be exact: the subhuman natives of the Rafa, plus the criminal and political refuse of a million other systems.
The Rafa was, among its other distinctive features, a penal colony where a life sentence meant certain death.
Product details
- ASIN : B00513F9UM
- Publisher : Random House Worlds; Reprint edition (June 28, 2011)
- Publication date : June 28, 2011
- Language : English
- File size : 5661 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Screen Reader : Supported
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Not Enabled
- Word Wise : Enabled
- Sticky notes : On Kindle Scribe
- Print length : 518 pages
- Page numbers source ISBN : 059372609X
- Best Sellers Rank: #331,693 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
- #154 in Star Wars Series
- #1,828 in Hard Science Fiction (Books)
- #3,319 in Space Opera Science Fiction (Kindle Store)
- Customer Reviews:
About the authors
Discover more of the author’s books, see similar authors, read author blogs and more
Discover more of the author’s books, see similar authors, read author blogs and more
Customer reviews
Customer Reviews, including Product Star Ratings help customers to learn more about the product and decide whether it is the right product for them.
To calculate the overall star rating and percentage breakdown by star, we don’t use a simple average. Instead, our system considers things like how recent a review is and if the reviewer bought the item on Amazon. It also analyzed reviews to verify trustworthiness.
Learn more how customers reviews work on AmazonCustomers say
Customers find the book fun to read, with interesting stories and good characters. Opinions are mixed on the writing style, with some finding it well-written and entertaining, while others say it drags at times.
AI-generated from the text of customer reviews
Customers find the book fun to read.
"...A really fun trilogy, if a tad short as some sci-fi books were at the time, more often than not...." Read more
"...I digress the Lando Calrissian Adventures is a quick read that is fun and different...." Read more
"Overall entertaining but I personally felt that after finally getting around to reading this series that it really could have been set in any sci fi..." Read more
"...his career as a ship's captain, galactic con man and gambler is an enjoyable read...." Read more
Customers find the plot interesting, creative, and original. They also mention that the first novel is a pretty interesting idea.
"...Third, there are some big ideas and original elements of the EU that are not part of, or thus far have not been part of the Star Wars universe in..." Read more
"...The characters are well developed and the story develops in a reasonably logical manner...." Read more
"...Did not enjoy at all, am unsure why I even read the whole thing. Big waste of time, avoid!" Read more
"...were exciting, the space battles were phenomenal, and each story had many fantasy elements like lost civilizations and sorcerers and majestic..." Read more
Customers find the characters in the book well written and good.
"...n't necessarily a bad thing at all, I found Rokur Gepta to a very enjoyable character...." Read more
"...The characters are well developed and the story develops in a reasonably logical manner...." Read more
"...Vuffi Raa. A very interesting character with a good mystery behind him and until the very end the author did nothing with it and the origin felt..." Read more
"Its an entertaining book, well written and with good characters...." Read more
Customers are mixed about the writing style. Some find the book entertaining, well written, and a quick read. Others say the story can drag at times, with sketchy descriptions of situations. They also say the plot stinks, and the characters are static and predictable throughout the entire book.
"...Too much tobacco. Landon character remains static and predictable throughout the entire book...." Read more
"...The characterization was pretty good. Gepta is actually shown to not just be empty inside but to *like* being that way...." Read more
"...There is a lot of description of irrelevant minutiae which slows the pace down to a crawl...." Read more
"...Why you'll like it:Lando is really written well here. If you are a fan of the gambler/administrator you should enjoy these tales...." Read more
Reviews with images
!["Don't call me master!" - Lando Calrissian to Vuffi Raa](https://cdn.statically.io/img/images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/G/01/x-locale/common/transparent-pixel._V192234675_.gif)
-
Top reviews
Top reviews from the United States
There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later.
These three short books (in one volume) take place for the classic SW heroes about five to three years before Episode IV (depending on which adventure of the trilogy we are talking about), or, in other words, about eight to six years before we meet Lando in Episode V. Lando is a very young man trying to make his way in the galaxy, and it shows in his glaring lack of ability compared to later on. Though he does, of course, show the first hints of the brilliant pilot and tactician he later would become, as these novels begin, he is a talented gambler and smooth talker. Not much else.
Of course, he's not really as good at those thing either, at least not as much as he thinks he is. Oh, he can play games brilliantly, such as being so good at *sabacc* that he struggles to actually lose *on purpose*. And he can think on his feet and talk fast in tough pickles. But the difficulties he finds himself in, and how easily he is boxed in, show that he is not as good at reading others as he thinks he is, and that he is *quite* naive at times.
Of course, that is part of the charm, in that we get to actually *see* Lando Calrissian become the pretty badass guy he is in the last two original films. We see some of the beginnings of that growth, at least. And of course, one doesn't become that type of guy with no real tests of endurance and thus we get the main difficulty for this series, the Big Bad.
In this trilogy that part was played by a character called Rokur Gepta, the "Sorcerer of Tund". Later materials outright state Force powers for these mystics and somewhat (I think) Dark Side conjurors. Even in this early series, the author, L. Neil Smith, hinted at this somewhat, or at least left it vague enough that it could be easily worked into later plots. I mean, this guy was an influential political figure that had Emperor Palpatine's ear, and knew various seemingly mystical secrets. "Fellow Force User" is practically screaming in your face here.
The characterization was pretty good. Gepta is actually shown to not just be empty inside but to *like* being that way. He is chillingly evil, and not just proud but nonchalant about his crimes. Vuffi Raa, Lando's droid aide and pilot, is probably the heart of the books, as his journey of friendship with Lando and self-discovery about his origins are what drive the plot. And finally, for Lando himself. He is a good guy trying to act mercenary. But in the end, even if he can be self-centered and egotistical at times, he is a good and honorable man who cares about others and wants to do the right thing. Of course, he wants to get rich while doing so, preferably while gambling and avoiding real work, but he's a good guy nonetheless. The seeds are there and it's fun to see the beginnings of this good man and badass guy.
A really fun trilogy, if a tad short as some sci-fi books were at the time, more often than not. I really enjoyed, and Highly Recommend, this trilogy.
Rating:
*Lando Calrissian and the Mindharp of Sharu* (Vol. 1) - 4/5 Stars
*Lando Calrissian and Flamewind of Oseon* (Vol. 2) - 3.5/5 Stars
*Lando Calrissian and the Starcave of Thonboka* (Vol. 3) - 5/5 Stars
Overall Rating: 4/5 Stars.
You get an early trilogy of the Star Wars Expanded Universe (now "Legends") starring one of the classic film trilogy's most love characters, Lando Calrissian. Yes, these were originally three separate novels, now in one updated paperback, with smaller text. It's readable but a bit on the small side. Great deal though.
Fundamentally, these are classic adventure stories in brand new sectors of the Star Wars universe.
Why you'll like it:
Lando is really written well here. If you are a fan of the gambler/administrator you should enjoy these tales. The writer does an excellent job of capturing his essence as a rather happy go lucky gambler through and through. First off, you really see his essence as a gambler. His character really seems to take the ups and downs of the story with a gambler's spirit. That is, he rides the wave of good luck when it strikes, but also gets placed in a lot of situations where he just has to figure out how best to play the hand he was dealt, no matter the consequences. It was refreshing to read a character that doesn't spend a lot of time moping or getting overwhelmed by being in a bad situation. It was nice to read a character who was upbeat and generally took things in stride.
Second, Vuffi Raa! Lando's companion from early on in the trilogy is a very unique droid named Vuffi Raa. His uniqueness does play a significant part in the books, by the end and I think he's as likable and as memorable as R2-D2 and Threepio.
Third, there are some big ideas and original elements of the EU that are not part of, or thus far have not been part of the Star Wars universe in other media, like films and television. The big mystery/twist (the Sharu) of the first novel is a pretty interesting idea an quite original. The second novel introduces a totally new system with it's own tourist culture and natural phenomenon (the Flamewind), and the third brings in both an incredibly unique race AND then some.
Why people may not like it:
If you are looking strictly for "cannon" elements this won't be for you. Lando is the only character from the films and television shows in these books, which take place well before his Cloud City life and have not been confirmed in cannon. If you are looking for stories steeped in movie elements or the Mandolorian show, these stories won't be your cup of tea.
As for writing, there is little to complain about, but some might find the transition of one of the characters from minor villain(in the first book) to arch nemesis a bit odd or unlikely, but to the writer's credit, so does Lando, who repeats on more than one occasion that he can't quite figure out how he could have possibly angered him so much.
Top reviews from other countries
![](https://images-eu.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/S/amazon-avatars-global/default._CR0,0,1024,1024_SX48_.png)
![](https://images-eu.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/S/amazon-avatars-global/default._CR0,0,1024,1024_SX48_.png)
![](https://images-eu.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/S/amazon-avatars-global/default._CR0,0,1024,1024_SX48_.png)
![](https://images-eu.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/S/amazon-avatars-global/e33b01d4-3e9e-46bb-896d-ffa072e971fe._CR43,0,314,314_SX48_.jpg)
![](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/S/amazon-avatars-global/default._CR0,0,1024,1024_SX48_.png)