By David Weber
Honor Harrington has confronted ship-to-ship strive against, assassins, political vendettas and duels. She's been shot at, shot down, and simply simple shot; had starships blown out from below her, and made own enemies who will do whatever to break her, and she's survived all of it. Now she reveals herself on board a battlecruiser certain for a jail planet aptly named 'Hell' - and her scheduled execution. positioned into solitary confinement, separated from her officials and her treecat Nimitz, and subjected to systematic humiliation via her gaolers, her destiny has develop into either bleak and brief. but the only lesson Honor Harrington hasn't ever realized is find out how to surrender ...
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Additional resources for In Enemy Hands (Honor Harrington Series, Book 7)
Yes. ” So far, Lisa had avoided asking the alien about the circumstances that had brought him to be humanity’s guest aboard PoleStar habitat. That had not been her idea. Had she had her way, it would have been the very first subject they talked about when Sar-Say had developed sufficient vocabulary. Unfortunately, Dr. Bendagar had forbidden it. Therefore, she had spent her time telling Sar-Say about Earth and humans while he undoubtedly wondered at her lack of curiosity. But then, she often reminded herself, perhaps curiosity was not a universal trait among thinking beings - although she could not imagine a species getting to be intelligent without it.
The chief scientist muttered in a low monotone. It was more of a prayer than a curse. CHAPTER 6 Mikhail Vasloff strolled through the grand concourse of the headquarters of the Stellar Survey and gazed at the lighted displays of worlds the survey had discovered. Here an ice world lay beneath the blue-white actinic point of a B2 giant star; there an airless world orbited close to a red giant sun; beside it, twin suns hung high in the purple sky of a dusty, wind-swept desert planet. Everywhere he looked, Vasloff was reminded of the fact that the universe had little love for a race of vainglorious upstarts who styled themselvesHomo sapiens .
We have a beautiful river and fine game fish, yet because of contamination caused by people 300 years dead, I cannot eat of the river’s bounty. The lesson I draw from that fact is that life is very precariously balanced on this world. We tend to forget that because we ourselves are so precisely matched to our own particular ecological niche. Yet, how could it be otherwise? We evolved to fit this world more precisely than a surgeon’s micron glove fits his hand. We are matched to this, our environment, and no other.
In Enemy Hands (Honor Harrington Series, Book 7) by David Weber