Ancillary Mercy (Imperial Radch)

Ancillary Justice, Ancillary Sword and Ancillary Mercy are three nicely independent novels that cover a single story as broad as a couple thousand years and as short as a couple of weeks. The story is an epic combination of revenge, reconciliation, and recovery, told from the point of view of a human who served two millennia as a puppet soldier. Oh, yes, and Leckie won a Nebula and Hugo for the first book in the series.

This third book in the series is full of the usual interestingly complex and troubled characters. I would judge the first book as definitely being the most compelling read of the three books, but this book has its own charms. If you're expecting a lot of action this is not going to satisfy, but the characters and their development, along with the solid writing, will make this a rewarding read. I would recommend it.

A perfect ending , ,and a surprising one to the trilogy. The world which Ann Leckie builds becomes more complex, and more interesting. An additional layer of humor is added to the story , which deales and enlarges the scope of intelligence and humanity in its variations. I think that this is the best book in the trilogy.
However , do mot read it 1st. This is the 3rd, make sure you read the previous nooks first.

This was a great conclusion to the three-book series. My only complaint is that I've finished the book. I look forward to reading whatever this author publishes. I love her writing, her characters and this scary wonderful universe she has created.

Not as groundbreaking or beautiful as the first two books but it is an excellent story and very satisfying. This universe is fascinating and the concept of the AIs, capillaries, and federal tree ed personalities is fascinating g. My one disappointment was t h e t h e gender ambiguity of the first t so books was notably missing.

I'll preface this with the fact that I loved the first two books in this series, Justice and Sword.

Spoilers below:

I was disappointed with this last addition to the series. The world that Leckie had built in the prior books was rich and complex, and the incorporation of Breque's ancillary point-of-view while she was still Justice of Toren was simply refreshing and fascinating. It was impressive how well Leckie handled the task of communicating the experience of a multi-bodied intelligence. Then, in Ancillary Sword we moved past those flashbacks, and focused more on Breque's nostalgic re-connection to a ship AI. Both books tout the heady moral lessons of a overbearing autocratic empire that rules through fource and fear, but managed to not come off overly preachy and moralistic. Well, Ancillary Sword managed to verge closely on overdoing Breque's sudden crusade to end social injustices on Athoek Station.

Then, with Ancillary Mercy it was like watching a very good TV show jump the shark. Plot lines became formulaic, and characters became one dimensional to the point of becoming absurd farces of themselves. Seivarden's character was denigrated to a whimpering, comic-relief character that suddenly couldn't care less about any of the social norms of the Raddch society. Watching his interaction with the instance of Anaandar that comes to Athoek was ludicrous. He essentially breaks down while negotiating with the emperor of this enormous, expansive empire and leaves to go to the gym. Anaandar's character, which has been peculiar and verging on absurdity since the first book, transitions entirely into a completely unbelievable character in this book. Her dialogue is also just terrible, and reminds me of some half-serious anime show.

The inclusion of the Translator, essentially this series' Jar Jar Binks, really made it feel like Leckie just gave up on this. The Sphene character was included almost as an afterthought to have a wacky, sassy AI that could foil Breque's serious demeanor.

Perhaps all these character choices could have been tolerated, if the plot had remained strong or at least interesting. The bulk of the book deals with non-central plotlines that are quickly pushed aside when the main conflict arises (the arrival of Anaandar). Then, instead of fleshing out or really articulating this climax (which readers have been waiting for since Ancillary Sword), the plot presents two short adventures of Lt. Tisarwat (which is cut short by her "implants being removed" so you never even get to learn about what happened there) and of Lt. Seivarden (which is absurd). We go from all options having failed, and Breque issuing complete surrender to a deus ex machina style last-minute plot resolution. But perhaps what's so disappointing is that after this book we're left with so little, really nothing more about the rich universe that Leckie has built. Nothing on the mysterious Itran Tetrarchy, the Presgar, the Gleck, the Rrrrr, or even the mythical Raddch homeworld. All we have is a weak, half-hearted conclusion to some minor plotlines first introduced in Ancillary Sword.

Honestly, the book read like Leckie had given up interest, or had run into a deadline for publication. Really just a huge disappointment.

This is the third book in the Ancillary series, and I hope it will not be the last one, as I can't get enough of this fascinating milieu that Leckie has created. The first book in the series, Ancillary Justice, won a Hugo Award, the second, Ancillary Sword, was a finalist, and I am nominating this one as well. Very, very good stuff.

As much as the preceding two novels, the final chapter of the Imperial Radch tale flows beautifully, teaches lovingly, and lingers on the mind with a memory of delight. My only disappointment is that the story has to end. This is a must read.

Ancillary Sword is really the first half of this book , Ancillary Mercy, with a very satisfying ending . Ancillary Mercy picks up the pace with intrigue, action, and political manipulation I read this book in a day and I do hope to visit Radch space again.

I read a lot of SF, and I have a hard time coming up with a better, or more impactful, SF story in recent years than Leckie's Ancillary trilogy. I had never heard of Ms. Leckie before starting the first book (Ancillary Justice) but I'm going to keep an eye out for her work in the future, because she is clearly a master of the craft of writing SF.

Much has been made of Leckie's decision to use "she" and "her" as general pronouns. She's not the first to do so but perhaps she is the first to have such impact. Other reviewers describe the protagonist as being female because of Leckie's word choice, but there is no basis for that decision, because the pronoun use masks gender. Very few characters have a known gender, which is refreshing and (I think) tends to focus the reader on other aspects of the character.

This is the concluding book in the trilogy, and you really need to start at the beginning. Each book builds on actions and decisions in the prior books. Suffice to say, the protagonist, Breq, has a complicated (and long) background story that impacts and informs much of the plot. Breq has been on a 20 year-long mission of vengeance against the seemingly omnipotent and omnipresent ruler. Along the way, Breq has "adventures" and those "adventures" involve attempted murder, revolt and rebellion, diplomatic negotiations with aliens, and interactions with sentient warships and sentient space stations.

The characters, both large and small, are fully fleshed-out, many with flaws and emotional problems. Characters I thought would be heroes collapse under stress and anxiety, and nobody "wins" without paying a steep price for doing so. In that regard, this is amazing literature. Add to that the well-crafted world-building, with a deeply layered society, and you end up with a classic SF tale.

The way in which the story is told is different and, to my taste, wonderful. It is what I imagine would happen if Jack Vance wrote stories set in Iain M. Banks' Culture universe. My title is "A Space Opera of Manners" because the focus is on character and emotional growth, and because the society is oh-so-polite and mannered. Except when it's not.

Looking for a different take on space opera, one that replaces ray guns and space battles with politics and character and emotion ? Try this trilogy.

Grand and detailed saga of a different, complex and fascinating society and universe. Throws in concepts and ideas each of which might fuel a whole book for other authors. Immense scope and imagination yet intensely personal and human. And sometimes quite amusing.

Ancillary Mercy isn't quite as compelling as the first two Ancillary books,not that it matters because you will still read it. I am giving the whole series an enthusiastic five. I hope to read more of her books in the future.

I have to wonder if Leckie was poking fun at herself for all the tea drinking when she had Breq send Tisarwat to the Medic for drinking too much tea.

Should be a major contender for the Hugo award.

I was deeply impressed with Ann Leckie's Ancillary series for its unique premise, measured pacing, and subtle yet moving characterization. The pacing in this final installment of her trilogy felt slower, and I'll likely have to re-read it at some point to unpack the depth of meaning implied by the various characters who interact around the question of what defines a sentient being. If I say much more, I risk spoilers, so I'll end by saying I'll miss these characters and this world, and another cup of fish sauce please.

The first book in the series was excellent, the second not as much. This final installment felt rushed and not plotted as carefully as the first two. That being said it was still a good book and a satisfying conclusion.

Perhaps a strange way to describe a book I give 5 stars, but given sincerely. Not everything was squared away, but having every question answered is rather limiting. The author knows her craft, and has channeled great authors from Twain to Asimov, weaving a rug distinctly her own. A worthy conclusion to a grilling ride.

A great close to a fascinating series. This is what science fiction should be: pushing the boundaries of concepts we take for granted, with wonderful characters and a story to give life to a world so different from our own.

To all who have read the first two Ancillary books, by Ann Leckie , you know they needed to be completed. Well this is a total rap up of the one story that's in the three books. Hats off to Ann Leckie but if she wanted to I could see a couple of NEW stories coming after this last book. I for one would be glad to purchase them.

I very much enjoyed this interesting take on AIs and storytelling. My reading group found it a refreshing change from a lot of other sci-fi, and found the story compelling and thought provoking. Looking forward to reading the rest of the trilogy.

I found this a really satisfactory conclusion to the trilogy. It seemed short to me, as I was engaged with the story. The ideas and approach as novel and I found I could really get into the characters. Would recommend it and the trilogy.

Modern space opera mix with comedy and drama. Romantic antics counterpoints far from banal questions about relationship between very alien characters that feel very familiar.
Well written if a bit light, looking forward to future works of the writer.

A totally enthralling story like nothing I have read before and I have read a lot of SF. A story told through relationships where technology is background. If you want something new, intelligent and inventive then read this trilogy.

This is the third and final book in this series (we can assume) and as such it needs to tie up the stories, and present some sort of conclusion. Okay, we do that. But... the other two thirds of the book are really just stuffing, or side dishes, no real entree here.
Leckie got snaps for using on the female pronoun for everyone in her initial books. And good, because her protagonist, and the person whose head we ride around inside, is a former computer, shoe-horned into a sexless, deracinated prisoner (or ancillary). But after several hundred or thousand times, it gets annoying, really annoying - largely because it cheats the reader of being able to envision who the characters are. If everyone is the same gender, we discover nobody has a gender, they might as well all be sexless, deracinated... well you get the idea. Three volumes of goings on about what are in effect meat puppets, - it loses interest. No one has any real emotions, since they are all genderless blobs. This clever seeming idea really needed to be thought through - and I'd suggest before people have to pay money to watch it unfold.
Also, a minor point of annoying, everybody goes on and on and on about tea, and tea sets. If you went through this particular volume and cut out the phrase tea set, it would be at least 15-20% shorter. Now if it was a critical feature of the story, or advanced the plot in some way, or was anything other than padding (and maybe Anne was tired by this time too, you never know), okay. But here, no.
A smashed tea set was gone int so many times I wanted to smash the thing myself just to get rid of it.
On the whole the ending leaves a huge (aliens - clown car aliens, but still, super-powerful malevolent aliens) untouched area.
Also, no one seems to face consequences for what they do, ever. It seems a sort of mush brained way to depict military forces (these are war ships which kill huge numbers of people after all, killed them right in front of us in previous books), but hey, we're all just...meat puppets, so nothing we do matters to anyone. Especially ourselves, and at the end of the day, me the reader.
Wait until this is a penny, or give it a miss altogether and wonder how the first two books might have ended better than this.

This is the third and final book in this series (we can assume) and as such it needs to tie up the stories, and present some sort of conclusion. Okay, we do that. But... the other two thirds of the book are really just stuffing, or side dishes, no real entree here.
Leckie got snaps for using on the female pronoun for everyone in her initial books. And good, because her protagonist, and the person whose head we ride around inside, is a former computer, shoe-horned into a sexless, deracinated prisoner (or ancillary). But after several hundred or thousand times, it gets annoying, really annoying - largely because it cheats the reader of being able to envision who the characters are. If everyone is the same gender, we discover nobody has a gender, they might as well all be sexless, deracinated... well you get the idea. Three volumes of goings on about what are in effect meat puppets, - it loses interest. No one has any real emotions, since they are all genderless blobs. This clever seeming idea really needed to be thought through - and I'd suggest before people have to pay money to watch it unfold.
Also, a minor point of annoying, everybody goes on and on and on about tea, and tea sets. If you went through this particular volume and cut out the phrase tea set, it would be at least 15-20% shorter. Now if it was a critical feature of the story, or advanced the plot in some way, or was anything other than padding (and maybe Anne was tired by this time too, you never know), okay. But here, no.
A smashed tea set was gone int so many times I wanted to smash the thing myself just to get rid of it.
On the whole the ending leaves a huge (aliens - clown car aliens, but still, super-powerful malevolent aliens) untouched area.
Also, no one seems to face consequences for what they do, ever. It seems a sort of mush brained way to depict military forces (these are war ships which kill huge numbers of people after all, killed them right in front of us in previous books), but hey, we're all just...meat puppets, so nothing we do matters to anyone. Especially ourselves, and at the end of the day, me the reader.
Wait until this is a penny, or give it a miss altogether and wonder how the first two books might have ended better than this.

After the success of the first book Ann Leckie could be forgiven for writing Ancillary Justice 2 and 3, but instead she has written a trilogy of three very different books.
Ancillary Mercy sees Breq once again facing off against (part of) the Lord of the Radch, which means there is more action (and more twists) than in Sword Leckie finds plenty of room for the characters to blossom, the nature of being to be contemplated, and tea to be served. All that in a book that is an unrepentant page-turner.

(Spoilers ahead!)

I really needed this series in my life. I don't think I ever won't need it in my life.

The Imperial Radch series lets you look behind all the doors fans want, desperately, to look behind in their favorite media—that is to say, small, heartfelt moments between characters, hard-hitting conversations that dig deep, relationships being developed that only ever remain hints or scraps in most narratives. This kicks some serious character-driven butt, while at the same time constructing a world that you want to lose yourself in. And lose yourself you do—with strong characters to lead the way.

Ann Leckie pours so much empathy, wisdom, and general understanding of human nature into the pages of this series. This is a rarity that I have simply never come across at this level before in any media. In Sword, the conversation with Queter about making her oppressors see their actions for what they are—it was so real and raw and liable to seize anyone who has known that fire in themselves. Those moments with Seivarden and Ekalu in Mercy, where privilege and entitlement are made visible and brought to its knees. This series is packed full of palpable moments that get you thinking about what the subject-matter tackled means for the characters as well as in your own life.

The setting is vibrant and epic, while also focusing and scaling to small pieces of that setting, creating both a larger-than-life feel as well as something that you can settle in and familiarize yourself with. By the end of Mercy, I wanted to live alongside the characters, and the story had enough depth to allow that feeling to seem tangible.

I was so invested in these characters that the moment action starts, I am desperately wishing it away—I'm not distanced and unemphatic, unworried for the character's safety because I'm looking forward to cool explosions or gunshots, as I am in every other bit of media. I am terrified. I want it to end so they can all have tea and be happy.

(And speaking of terrifying—Zeiat genuinely terrified me a few times, which is amazing because I also love her adorable self to bits. She is the best use of “wacky and child-like character is secretly terrifying” I have ever seen.)

I suppose I wrote this review more for the author than for potential buyers, I'm not going to pretend this review isn't for a book written by an individual, I'm not going to pretend, as people like to, that media just exists on its own, rendering the creators invisible:

Ann Leckie, I loved this series to bits. Start to finish. Every bit of it. It had so much depth, so many meaningful interactions between characters. And god, I sobbed like an alarmed child when Breq got the brief surveillance clip of the protesters sitting peacefully in Station. I laughed more times than I can count. I laughed harder than I ever have—I threw my kindle across the room and shrieked, laughing until I cried, when Zeiat showed up at Mercy of Kalr's doorstep in the midst of crisis and asked for oysters. There were so many times I had to set the book down and catch my breath during the chapter where Breq and Mercy of Kalr and Seivarden sort out their feelings for each other.

You are an amazing writer, Ancillary Mercy exceeded my expectations, and honestly forever raised the bar that I judge all media by. I admire you, and always will.

Thank you, with all of my heart, for giving us such a wonderful story.

I could say many things about this book. This is an excellent conclusion to an excellent series. And far from being more of the same, it changes its voice, and does so well. Justice was more of straight thriller; Sword a more atmospheric piece; now Mercy is a tense standoff. With each book, a different aspect of the world Leckie created is revealed. If you expected each book of the series to be more nuggets of the type that preceded it, you will be disappointed; if you are capable of enjoying a different take on a familiar world, you will likely like it.

Think of it as Ursula Le Guin's Left Hand of Darkness, only as a space opera. The conceit of using all female pronouns is not likely a challenge; though this had lead some people of decidedly youthful reading comprehension to describe this as an all female society - it is not, its simple the authors choice to describe a world where gender is as remarkable as freckles. It does make you think, even if you view yourself as an adult, of the role of genders in society, and what happens when you lift them out. The only terrors it holds are those you bring with you.

Most of what happens though is a good space opera with a military setting. In spite of the setting - space ships and stations and clone cyborgs oh my! - much of it reminds me of is the stories of the friends who have been deployed over seas. A huge amount of their deployed lives happened with them performing their duties on post while waiting for the stuff to happen. The military barracks life is not some Call of Duty like massacring of bad guys 24/7; that is well represented here. It is the daily frictions and struggles of people asked to make the unusual their routine.

And alongside it all, well, you have the struggle against the clone cyborgs of a Space Rome where the author actually read up on Rome. Spaceships will fly, battles will be fought, tea will be drunk. This is a space opera, even if you can't tell the book by its cover: villains and super weapons and strange aliens. It might not be the kind of space opera you enjoyed at age 13, but its exciting without requiring your brain to turn off.

Honestly, I really preferred the first book the most. It was full of action, and the last two books were full of tea. Some of the reviewers here seem to like the change of pace. Unfortunately, I would not have bought the last two knowing there was going to be a huge change. I'm just not a fan of long, drawn out scenes with little action or suspense. There wasn't even much drama either, aside from Seivarden's lovers quarrel.

It's really hard to describe my disappointment without Spoilers, so...

Spoilers!

While I understood why Seivarden and Breq didn't get together, I was still vehemently hoping for it anyway. I know it seems silly, but I really felt there was no meaningful wrap up of Seivarden's dependence and love. Just some other character to fill the void somewhat.

I felt the issue of turning more humans to ancillaries didn't get fully resolved. It was simply try out more humans for now, possibly clone the ancillaries you have despite difficulties, or thaw out the ones you have in rations. Didn't explore the idea of running out in spite of these measures. Would the ships then start making their own? Possibly new series?

Also I just felt that after everything that happened, it was a bit harsh for Tisiwarat to turn out more like the Raadch ruler, like trying to force ship compliance, in spite of everything that Breq physically did and said to show why that is a problem. I was hoping for more change from that character.

I liked the first book, completed the second. Want to know how bad the third is? Instead of finishing it, I watched two Twilight movies with my 11-year-old daughter and I had already watched them with my 21-year-old daughter when she was younger. Yup, a second viewing of Twilight knowing how much I'm going to be bored out of my skull is better than this pile of rubbish. Just drinking tea and comparing tea sets.

As I started the series, I noted that Ms. Leckie chose to designate all gender as female. I was intrigued. How does the author make all the characters female.
It reminded me immediately of Ursula LeGuin and the Left Hand of Darkness. Gender was neutral in those stories until the main character switched gender, had a child. Etc. But the main character of Ms. Leckie’s novels, Breq, does not change its gender. It begins as, an is ever, an AI. Others around it are of the female gender. But are they? One never really knows.
Does it matter? That is, ultimately, the message of the novel. Additionally, does it matter that the novel’s hero, Breq, is not human. That Breq is an ancillary, a person that was revived from a frozen corpse who has had its brain rewritten and taken over by the all powerful Anaander Minaai and it’s minions?
At the end of the stories, it doesn’t matter. The person who appears as Anaander Minaai has been defeated by the AI in the form of the Justice of Toren (Breq and his ship), the Sword of Gurat, the Sword of Gurat and the Station AI of Station Athoek. This series will probably come back and I will buy it again. Incredibly enjoyable – even though it questions whether it matters which gender is motivating change and wielding power.

I really liked Ancillary Justice, and I felt that it deserved all the awards it received. The second book, Ancillary Sword, was tolerable, but a bit of a let-down. The third book in the series is just plain bad.

70% of the book seems to consist of ... drink tea ... discuss emotions .. drink tea ... cry ... discuss emotions ... drink tea ... discuss emotions ... cry .. drink tea ... and so on and on, indefinitely.

Unfortunately, every single character seems to have the emotional maturity of an over-delicate teenage girl, except for the bad guys who are psychopaths.

The characters are all basically the same, and all one-dimensional. They don't come across as real people.

The big questions are: Will Seivarden realize what he said to hurt Ekalu's feelings? Will he understand why her feelings are hurt? Will he be willing to apologize? How will he apologize? Will she accept his apology? Will she understand that he understands how he hurt her feelings? Which of them will cry the most tears? How often will they have to go to the bathroom after drinking so much tea?

But while they are having their little lovers' tiff, offstage the empire is falling apart, battles are happening, stations are falling, etc. - but let's just have another cup of tea, and another emotional melt-down on someone's shoulder because of our ever-so-delicate feelings.

The Presger Translator provides the comic relief - a Jar-Jar Binks style of comic relief - but even that is better than the long discussions about sensitive emotions and the tea drinking.

Ann Leckie aspires to be like CJ Cherryh. Umm... no. This book shows that she is not at all in the same class as CJ Cherryh or Ursula le Guin.

Leckie may still surprise us, but so far it seems like she is a one-hit wonder.

Leckie started off strong with Ancillary Justice, which remains a favorite in spite of the disappointing sequels. I call them sequels because although the series was being billed as a trilogy, it simply felt like a great first book with two afterthought novels that didn't actually build on or conclude anything from the original story.

First of all, the level of repetition in this book is unacceptable. I'm honestly shocked that it made it to print. It got to a point, about halfway through, where every time I saw the word "tea," my blood pressure would rise a little more. This word occurs an outrageous number of times - without exaggeration, almost every few lines throughout the book. Good worldbuilding requires description and sometimes a bit of repetition or gentle reminders to show the importance of certain cultural elements. However, there is a point at which it goes from effective to absolutely ridiculous and unnecessary. We get it. This civilization is big on drinking tea. They do it 24/7, even in life and death situations. It's critical to their culture. We don't need to be told about it multiple times per paragraph. If someone played a drinking game based on the appearance of "tea" in this novel, they'd be dead a quarter of the way through.

In a similar vein, the number of lines to the effect of "she felt this way but didn't show it" is simply unreasonable. I think after the first few chapters, most readers are intelligent enough to pick up on the characters' personalities. We don't need countless mentions of "ancillary blank" and "impassive" expressions masking the inner turmoil going on in the person's mind. This is an example of downright lazy writing that spends far too much time spoon feeding the readers the same thing over and over instead of finding creative new ways to describe what's going on.

The gender thing is a swing and a miss for me. It was tolerable in the first book, if not a bit pointless. It got annoying in Ancillary Sword and by this book it's downright insufferable. It may be easier to swallow the whole feminine default concept if Leckie actually offered a reason for it. But such as it is, it comes off as very gimmicky. As a woman, I very much appreciated the idea of breaking down barriers and challenging people to evaluate their assumptions about characters based on sex. But I don't think that it's handled well here at all.

Gender issues have been handled beautifully in books like The Left Hand of Darkness, where the locals are capable of taking on either male or female roles (both anatomically and socially) during their mating period, but are otherwise genderless. The Radchaai, however, DO have males and females, and there is never any explanation given for why they don't acknowledge it. Is everyone in this culture pansexual? Do these people reproduce artificially? If gender is truly "not a thing," then what linguistically led them to default to "she" for everything, even referring to male children as "daughters" rather than developing a gender neutral word, as most societies in that position would do? Is this a matriarchy where women are held in higher regard and therefore dominate socially, leading to this quirk of language? None of these questions are even remotely explored, making the whole premise ultimately empty rather than clever or progressive, especially since gender IS acknowledged by all of these surrounding cultures, including those that have been absorbed by the Radchaai.

Going hand in hand with the gender issue is Leckie's refusal to describe anyone in this universe. As a fellow writer, I support leaving certain things to the imagination and not overtelling, but when I read an entire "trilogy" and get to the end without having even the slightest idea of what any of the characters look like, never mind what sex they are, I consider that a failure. We know that they're generally dark skinned and dark haired but nothing beyond that, and it gets frustrating. Describing characters, species and races is an important part of the worldbuilding process and there are ways of depicting a society that shatters gender expectations without skipping completely over it.

She could have used the default female terms and described her characters properly, but held off on revealing the sex of those characters until later in each book. That would have made a far more powerful statement than total gender ambiguity, since it would have actually challenged the readers in the way she claimed to be doing - by forcing them to rethink their assumptions. I'd have considered the lesson more effective if I had read several chapters assuming someone was a man and then found out it was a woman, and vice-versa. But since we never know either way, the point Leckie is trying to make gets lost in the tedium and I feel that she did her characters and the world she created a huge disservice by not sharing the rich details that were obviously in her head.

Then we come to the story itself - or total lack thereof. I think this is honestly the first sci-fi book I've ever read where absolutely nothing happens. 90% of the writing focuses on tea, descriptions of people not wanting to show their emotions and, most frustratingly, romantic relationships between the crew. When I jumped on board the Ancillary Justice bandwagon, I never imagined that I'd end up reading an entire book where the whiny teen angst of grown men and women takes center stage. These people are supposed to be soldiers. Universe-dominating superior soldiers in the middle of an interstellar war. And what do they do? Apparently they divide the majority of their time between making tea, presenting tea to others, fussing over tea sets and engaging in soap opera level gossip and the drama of romantic entanglements. It's absolutely absurd. Even moreso when I hear this being touted as a feminist piece. Thanks, but as a female and a feminist, I'd much rather see a gender equal society where the characters have more to do than this inane nonsense and where the sexes and gender roles are presented in atypical ways rather than glossing over the issue entirely and pretending it simply doesn't exist.

Leckie has shown with Ancillary Justice that she is more than capable of creating a riveting concept with compelling characters and storylines, with a huge world and large scale ideas as a backdrop. Why she traded that in for books 2 and 3 instead of continuing the successful approach of the first book is completely and utterly beyond me. Ancillary Sword was a large step down from Justice (slower, smaller scale, less exciting) but at least there was a story. At least between the Undergarden drama, the plantation revolt, the crew's discovery of Breq's true nature, etc. things were actually *happening.* Sadly, not even that much can be said for "the stunning conclusion to the trilogy." I felt obligated to finish the series to see how it ended, and the characters and concept were just interesting enough to get through it, but regrettably, this was a bit of a chore to read. So much overtelling and repetition of unnecessary things, while speeding through or totally leaving out subjects, plots and descriptions that should have been crucial to the story. For an author who started out so strong, I'm genuinely mystified by what happened here.

The first book in the series, Ancillary Justice, was a unique and action-packed take on what it means to be an individual. The third book, Ancillary Mercy, borders on boring. Most of the plot consists of people standing around and chatting about tea.

There is almost no character development. One character spends the whole book fretting about tea and tea sets. Another natters on about fish sauce. Seivarden continues to be depressed. Justice of Toren is always one step ahead of everyone else, to the point where it's unsurprising. Even when the plot takes an unexpected turn, the characters are so static that you barely notice.

There's also quite a bit of repetition, as various characters bring each other up to date on previous events. I made it through to the fairly unexciting ending, but I'm not inclined to read more Leckie after this book.

For readers dismayed by the "soap opera" quality of the dialogue and plot development in the second and third volumes of this trilogy, I suggest that you consider the beautiful anthropology that underlies the author's narrative. From the get-go, the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis -- namely, that the grammatical structure of human languages shapes human world views -- is fully energized; the Radchaii language is oblivious to gender, and it's all but invisible to its speakers. But even more deeply, there's an exploration of the anthropological idea that human cultures and ideas are generated by deeply underlying patterns of social interaction. The three books recount the enculturation of Breq, an AI who was responsible for horrific acts of "assimilation," amounting to genocide. But the narrative recounts his transformation into a human being, beginning with his care for Seivarden. The character's imbrication with a complex and human network of relationships results in a narrative that doesn't lead to exploding Death Stars and the death of tyrants; instead, it chronicles the character's increasing grasp of what it means to be fully human -- a person who instinctively dislikes the exploitation of the Undergarden homeless on the Athoek station no less than that of the tea plantation workers on the planet's surface. Throughout, Breq takes it one step at a time, as he confirms in the book's conclusion. The anthropological angle is hilariously and beautifully underscored by the Presger Translators, Dlique and Zeiat, whose amusing interpretive errors highlight what I take to be the author's underlying theme, namely, the slow, step-by-step process by which foreign intelligences, whether machine, biological, or both, learn what it means to possess humanity.

What is it about?

Breq is the last remnant of the AI from the ship Justice of Toren. 20 Years ago Radch leader Anaandar Miannai (I apologize for misspelling these names...) destroyed her ship and almost destroyed Breq itself. This book is the conclusion to the trilogy which followed Breq's quest for revenge. 

No spoilers, but Breq and the friends she/he has made along the way have really grown a lot over the last few books, and they always find themselves in unique and dangerous situations.

Is it good?

Book 3 was great! Book 2 was great! Book 1 was great! I really enjoyed this whole trilogy. There is not a huge amount of physical action, but there is a lot of political maneuvering. I think this was still written in an interesting way. 

This series also draws your attention to the fact that even 3000 years into the future Racism is still a problem. The book also asks the questions, are free thinking AI's a significant being? 

I think this series was an interesting portrayal of where humans could find themselves in 3000 years, and the sort of problems that we would face as we succumb to our human instincts and return to fighting amongst ourselves. 

If you like science fiction and futuristic worlds, then I think you will really enjoy this series. I did! 

Breq, the former starship AI-turned-military-officer, has secured the Atheok system and plans to wait out the civil war raging between the fragmented selves of Anaander Mianaai whilst investigating the ongoing mysterious events in the neighbouring Ghost system. But events will not wait for Breq and she soon discovers that the fates of everyone in the Atheok system may depend on what she does next.

Ancillary Justice was a refreshing, smart and interesting science fiction novel. Its sequel, Ancillary Sword, was a major letdown, a work that sprawled and felt at times that the author wasn't sure what direction to take the story. Ancillary Mercy, which concludes the trilogy, ranks somewhere inbetween. This is definitely a more directed, more focused work that rounds off the thematic elements of the trilogy more or less satisfyingly, but on a more prosaic plot level is less impressive.

On the character side of things, Mercy crystallises when Justice did so well and Sword occasionally struggled with: the interrogation of self, identity and self-realisation. Breq is a creation of the Imperial Radch, but she is not Radchaii and can view their culture from both outside and the perspective of one of its servants. The Radchaii believe they are civilised, but they are also intolerant and imperialistic, stamping their identity on the civilisations they encounter. They are baffled by the idea of ethnic and religious differences amongst their more newly-conquered subjects and resort to violence a little too readily. Breq - ironically - is a humanist who abhors violence when it can be avoided and seeks understanding and diplomatic resolutions to crises, which confuses a lot of her supposed "fellow" Radchaii.

This internal cultural examination is successful, but ultimately doesn't expand much beyond what we learned back in the first novel: the Radchaii should chill out and stop killing people, basically. Much more interesting is the examination of the nature of identity and the interrogation of the nature of both Breq and the other AIs. This leads to a bit of an unexpected plot twist that satisfyingly helps tie up the story at the end of the book.

That story, however, is not the story that many readers thought they were reading about: the war between the Anaander Mianaai clones. This doesn't really end or peak in the book, and carries on after the novel ends. On a thematic level this is quite understandable: the war has been going on clandestinely for a thousand years, so it being wrapped up neatly in three books covering a couple of years is unlikely. On a plot level, however, it can't help but feel that Leckie has left plot hooks dangling for future books (and more novels in the Radch setting are forthcoming), which is fine but feels perhaps a little disingenuous for a series marketed firmly as a trilogy.

At the end of the book there's a big climax and a smart and clever ending which makes the trilogy certainly feel worthwhile. It's an interesting, thought-provoking series. But it's also one that feels passive and inert for a lot of its time, with a huge amount of important stuff going on behind the scenes or resolutely off-page. It can make for a series that's hard to love but easier to admire and respect: Leckie is dealing with a lot of ideas here and doing so in a manner that's often quite subtle.

Ancillary Mercy (***½) is a worthwhile, humanist finale to the Imperial Radch trilogy, but it isn't the grand, epic and stirring ending that I think some people were expecting. It is available now in the UK and USA.

Provenance, the next novel in the Imperial Radch setting (but not a direct sequel to this trilogy), will be published on 26 September 2017.

I've been struggling all along with what to call these books, because they lack the, well, the _feeling_ I associate with space opera.

What they remind me of, most of all, is the Culture stories of Iain M. Banks. Not in a derivative way, but in that they provide a similar sense of alienation, of a kind of posthumanity not involving any real "singularity" and of interstellar civilizations where the AI is clearly superior to the human mind but lets us play our games. In fact, the end of this trilogy might almost be the ancestral point of something like the Culture.

Breq, the former _Sword of Toren_, began the trilogy searching for revenge on the many-bodied ruler of the Radch, Anaander Mianaai. Along the way, she has picked up a number of strays, including someone who was supposed to be an Anaander but from whom she removed the tyrant's identity-technology. In the trilogy's second book, she came to the Athoek system, befriended the AI that ran the system's Station, and generally wreaked benevolent havok among the populace.

Now an Anaander Mianaai has come to Athoek. So has a diplomat/"Translator" of the extremely alien and dangerous Presger, whose previous emissary was accidentally killed in Book 2. (These Translators are among the books best features, by the way: something really *not* human in human-seeming bodies.) And there is a ship nearby (relatively speaking) who predates the Tyrant and regards her as the "Usurper" and who wants nothing more than the end of the Mianaai tyranny.

Much politicking goes on; and there is, at last, a space battle ... of sorts: fought with one pistol (sort of) ... to justify the space opera label.

The thing that sets the Imperial Radch trilogy apart is its delightful characters. It's characters and its unique cultural background. Oh, and its technologies. Amongst the things that set it apart are its delightful characters, its unique cultural background, the technologies on which everything depends, and the simultaneous cozy-vast sense of scale.

I'll try that again, shall I? Nobody expects the Imperial Radch trilogy.

If Ancillary Justice was a fascinating tour in non-linear exposition, and Ancillary Sword felt like a cozy mystery set in the midst of a space opera, Ancillary Mercy struck me as an interstellar version of the folktale motif “six go through the world”. That is, a protagonist accumulates a set of unlikely and improbable allies simply due to treating those she encounters with honesty, empathy, and (if you will forgive the word) humanity, to find that those allies come through with a vengeance when the chips are down. And the essence of Breq’s success in gaining allies is the question "what counts as 'humanity?" Who deserves to be treated as having equal significance and whose consent is worth respecting? Issues of colonialism and class consciousness play out at multiple levels and there are additional mythic resonances to reward the observant reader. (For example, the motif of redemption through willing self-sacrifice.) If the resolution relies overmuch on the triumph of good will and virtue, I’m happy to see those things triumph on occasion at the moment. This was a very satisfying conclusion to the trilogy.

Although this is the conclusion of the trilogy, I don’t feel like it really is the end. The world that Leckie conjured, with its interesting and creative extensions of artificial intelligence and its true space opera empire, isn’t wrapped up in a neat package at the end of this book.

Just for the record, I should say that these books really do depend on one another. None really stands alone — you won’t get the finish without the start, and you won’t even really understand the start without the finish.

I’m not usually a fan of science fiction that tends toward fantasy, and Leckie’s trilogy does bend a bit toward fantasy. But I’ve enjoyed all three volumes. There’s no “hard” science fiction here. Her central creations, the artificial intelligence modules that can multiply their physical presence through “ancillaries,” is not given a scientific treatment — it’s more conjured than explained. And I thought that was fine — it gives her room to explore some interesting questions about life, freedom, autonomy and respect, that she would otherwise have had to climb a very tall scientific ladder to get to.

What if AIs are given the freedom to control their own actions, a will of their own unleashed from any human control? What if they are treated as “significant”?

These are important themes of this last volume of the trilogy. To defeat what seems to have clearly become the clear dark half of the Ranch emperor, Anaander Mianaai, Breq, the main character and protagonist who is herself an embodied AI, needs to enlist the help of and give freedom to the AI running Athoek Station. The struggle takes place with the presence, and aid, of the alien Translator Zeiat, from the Presger empire. When Breq raises the question of the “significance” of AIs to Zeiat, she forces Anaander into a corner — she can either violate the Radch treaty with the Presger or withdraw her control over Athoek Station. How she chooses will have critical consequences for the future of the empire. She can risk conflict with the Presger, which didn’t turn out well at all in the past, or she can, by retreating, grant at least temporary autonomy to the AI running the station.

That’s where the story ends here, with Anaander’s choice, and with AIs in the Radch attaining a potential new status, as autonomous, free beings — “significant”. I can’t help thinking this is not the last we are going to hear, though. So many paths are still open:

What happens next in a Radch empire of humans and “significant”, liberated AIs?
How does the power relationship between AIs and humans evolve?
What happens to Anaander Mianaai’s rule? She is still a divided self, and she still remains the ruler of the empire.
And what happens to the “Provisional Republic of Two Systems”?

Struggling to do what is right. Finding joy when good is able to eke out a narrow victory against evil. Reveling in both filial and amorous love. These themes are subtle in this story and yet now that I have finished Ann Leckie's trilogy, I find that those themes surpass all the other virtues of this series. Yes, the author's brilliant depictions of AI persons; the unique strangeness of an alien who almost defies description; the outstanding technology a good sci-fi story needs; these all contribute to making these books better than 90% of the stories I have read over the past 60+ years. But what makes these books truly superior is the depth and breadth of their foundation in the values of good over evil, right over wrong, and love in all its positive forms. Few authors have taken my breath away. This author has.

A tremendous end to the Imperial Radch trilogy, following several threads from the first two books to their natural conclusions in a way that still manages to surprise. Author Ann Leckie clearly has a lot of thoughts on the notions of consciousness, sentience, and identity, and she foregrounds those issues in this novel far more than in its predecessors. I was concerned when the second novel took such an abrupt turn away from the action of the first to focus on a small backwater planet on the edges of the war, but this third book shows why that pivot was necessary to set up the series conclusion. This isn't how I thought Breq's story would resolve back when it began, but it all ties together rather nicely.

Other reviews said this is the weakest of the 3 books, I disagree! I liked it a lot and think it's a good finish to the series. A couple of other things worth mentioning, about the whole series. First, I loved the author's idea of the main culture in the books not distinguishing gender, and referring to everyone in the feminine. It adds a different flavor and kept catching me out, as it's so embedded in our culture. Secondly, the series is written in the first person, but the narrator is not omniscient, so there's a certain "unreliable narrator" flavor as well. The books stand up well to rereading too. I read the first, then didn't get to the second for over a year. After reading that I went back and read the first one again, and liked it better than the first time.

SPOILER WARNING: Spoilers for Ancillary Justice and Ancillary Sword.

Ancillary Mercy starts right where Ancillary Sword ended, with everyone at and near Athoek Station recovering from the fallout of the events of the previous book. However, Breq knows that her actions will not end up unnoticed for long, and sure enough, Anaander Mianaai shows up in the system in a very bad mood. Meanwhile, there’s still the issue of the ghost system and the missing ancillaries, the intervention with the Presger, and the fate of various people from Ancillary Sword to deal with.

I wasn’t sure how Leckie would end up wrapping up this series, given that the second book was so much more scaled down than the first (only involving one system), and this book seemed to be set in the Athoek system as well. I’m very happy with the ending, though – it was well set up in the rest of the series, and thoroughly satisfying. The characters continue to be a delight to read about as they discover things in them they didn’t know they had – especially Breq, but also Tisarwat, Seivarden, and Mercy of Kalr. There is still plenty of tea and personal drama, but there are also some really cool action scenes in space.

Ancillary Mercy was one of my most anticipated books this year, and it did not disappoint! This series is sadly over, but there’s going to be a new book set in this universe in 2017, and I’m really, really excited about that.

I loved the first book. I kinda thought it borrowed somewhat liberally from Bank's Culture, but with some fresh twists.

This and the previous book seem to be sad retreads from pressuring editor enforcing a three book deal contract. It's main character now exists in a moral high ground and the book is constant tea parties (I'm serious) and tedious omnipotence.

I really wish the author had taken some time to produce more unique ideas in the last two books, but hey, its a business, right?

I bought all three. There are some really great concepts explored. Gender, loneliness, friendship, allegiance, what we are, what we want, the role of the military, songs, artificial intelligence, politics, love. It is occasionally interesting as a drama.

The sheer amount of babble between 1-dimensional characters is erosive to what little plot there is.

In the conclusion to Leckie's Imperial Radch trilogy, the tyrant Anaander Mianaai arrives at Atheok Station, but with AIs claiming agency, a new Presgar translator appearing, and citizens protesting, Mianaai's usual violent tyranny doesn't enact the same results she's used to, and of course she blames it all on Breq. But unlike the other two books in the series, Breq merely acts as a catalyst for a revolution that was inevitable.

I love the entire trilogy, particularly in its treatment of AI--it may very well be my favorite AI fiction as a whole. Book 3 is my least favorite of the trilogy, for reasons I think many last books suffer: predictability. I'm not sure there was a way to provide the kind of twists and innovations as in the first two books. The beginning also suffered from way too much 'catch-up.' But the character interactions once the story got started still made this one fun and endearing, and I really can't imagine it ending in any other way. I'm sad to see the series end! I'm going to miss Breq!

If you haven't read books 1&2, this one will make very little sense.

Sadly, "Mercy" isn't as good "Justice" or "Sword." The world-building has been done, the conflicts have been set up. There is the main conflict between the Lord of the Radch and herself. There is the local political conflict. THere is the conflict between Our Hero and her crew. In this new book, there should be some sort of resolution, even as those resolutions set up new conflicts. Instead, Leckie chews over the same old same old.

A new character is introduced, possibly for comic relief. There is a representative from an important alien species. She (everyone in this book is 'she', including grandpa)is a human raised by aliens, and she considers herself interchangeable with the previous representative, who was killed. Furthermore, Miss Comic eats everything and anything, and the results are weird - for what reason? There's no plot-point in this, it's just weirdness for weirdness sake.

Another wonderful start has started to fizzle. I still plan to read the next book.

A subtle book. One, like the others in the trilogy, to re-read. There is a great deal of humor and heart as well. I was reminded of the Irish expression: God draws straight with crooked lines. Every decision has repercussions that cannot easily be predicted in advance. Anaander's attempts to control eventually wrests control from her. Seivarden's mental breakdown and apparent failure creates a necessary diversion leading to Tisarwat's successful mission. Sphene and Translator Zeiat's impulsive decision to accompany Breq to her showdown with the tyrant sets into motion the possible recognition of ships and stations as persons in their own right, rather than as tools of oppression. The destruction of the tyrannical Radch Police state arises from personal actions to save friends and lovers, not from grand space battles. This is a deep book about the importance of small things and personal loyalties.

Breq's efforts to reestablish Athoek Station are complicated by the Presger, a peculiar Ship, and Anaander's ongoing war. This is phenomenal, a reaction which is cumulative, based more on three books's worth of investment rather than this single novel. But the series as a whole deserves that praise, and this is a cumulative book both emotionally and thematically. Watching the unlikely cast and Breq's unique point of view evolve continues to be a singular pleasure--a pleasure that this finale emphatically indulges. The ending isn't particularly complex or unexpected, but follows the series's tradition by extending speculative themes and complex worldbuilding to a brilliant, inevitable resolution. What a fantastic series, and such a strong way to end it. I can't wait to do a reread someday.

It’s not often I read a book or series and have no idea how it will end. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the Ancillary series, and the progression of the story to its very satisfying climax left me inspired. It can be a bit tough to follow in places, but my word is it worth it! The conclusion is not only a surprise, but a triumph as well. It’s not just a story, but a parable about humanity, diving deeply into themes of consciousness, life, race, colonization, war, gender, love, and loyalty. And yet cleverness and humor weave their way through intricate plot lines and deft character development. I can see why this series has earned such acclaim.

This third installment in the Imperial Radch trilogy was everything I didn't know I wanted, and even had elements I thought were missing from the second book. It was surprisingly funny, and the characters I wanted more of in the last book had a lot more focus. Perhaps the best thing about the book is that it provides a satisfying and clever ending to the trilogy. It left me wanting more of the characters and the universe, but I didn't feel like anything was left unresolved.

I loved Ancillary Justice. I loved how fresh it was that have an AI as a protagonist, to have two separate timelines, etc. I recognized in Ancillary Sword that even though it was an enjoyable read, a lot of the novelty had worn off. The world was still great, but the author wasn't coming out with that many more ideas. That's how I feel about this book: it's enjoyable but...not as amazing as the first one. Although Leckie emphasized that no ending is a true ending, there were certain things that were just too convenient/cute--like a certain person returning and potentially becoming a captain. I also thought the author fell a bit short with the Presger translator. Other than that, still fun, fast-paced, etc etc.

Although I found the "gender-neutral" pronoun "she" confusing in this series, the first book Ancillary Justice still wasn't too bad. Moved along well, decent story, interesting world. This one, though, is slow, preachy, and reads like a soap opera at points; I was reading quickly though some parts just to get them over with.. It had a few moments, and Ann Leckie's writing itself seems fine, but overall it's a real waste of time. Disappointing, as it seems like so much more could've been done. My advice would be: read the first of the series and move on. I wish I had.

The trajectory set in the first two books is beautifully and simply completed in this one. I loved the characters throughout, and they all stay themselves, with their own interests and motivations in the best of ways. The space battle strategies are as intriguing and the action sequences as solidly written as in the others. And I loved Breq's final description of exactly what kind of knife her baby lieutenant becomes.

This book is equally bad or worse than the second book. Again, Leckie only had a year or so to write this book, so it was lazy and derivative. I couldn't even get past the first 75 pages because it felt like every other science fiction space opera I've ever read: big bad foreigners or aliens who have unlimited power mess up everything for everyone. Something happens to make the aliens like you or not like you. They destroy you or your enemy.

The only difference that Leckie's last two books and every other space opera is that everyone LOVES tea.

Book Score is 4.5/5

Pros
1. Colorful well described world.
2. Well fleshed out cast. Everyone has his own distinct character, quirks etc.
3. A likable and consistent main character that doesn't make weird choices just to further the plot.
4. The tech/science is good enough. Almost no classic fantasy bleeding into this scifi book... with the exception of the magic bullet gun :P

Cons
Just One. Leckie ties everything up by forcing our main character out of character.
Instead of the machine precision of an ancillary , Breq fixes everything up by "sleight of hand". Not very consistent

Overall Series Score: 5/5

Thank you Ann Leckie .

This series as a whole is pretty good. I love books where characters struggle with real problems (even in a made-up universe) and don't just use their superior skills/weapons to overcome the obstacles.

Book three in the series makes a great end and really adds a lot to the established characters and even adds some very interesting new ones. A good sign of a good series is finishing the last book and you wish there was one e more.

"A robot is pretending to be a human because she used to be a space ship." My son asked me why I was laughing during a particularly tense scene, and this is how I explained it. This series tackles politeness, relationships with our tools, drug addiction, and traditional gender roles, and does it well.

I loved every minute of this trilogy. Could not put it down. Can't stop suggesting other people read it.
There is humor, there is drama and emotion, there are very satisfying moments when things click in a way that is perfect. So much to think about. Moral dilemmas. And an ending to keep you thinking. A great experience.

While Ancillary Justice (Book 1) was more unique and groundbreaking in the manner and method of story it told, I actually felt a much greater connection to the characters in Ancillary Mercy (Book 3). Rating the two against each other is supremely difficult, but for me, Mercy wins out by a nose.

Fans of Iain M. Banks might find familiar themes and spaces in the end of this book and it was wonderful to see a different perspective on some old [thematic] friends. Banks' Hydrogen Sonata was a poignant and bittersweet farewell, but I had the great luck to read Mercy less than a month or two after and found immense hope for future stories.

10/10; I recommend this without reservation, save that you do read them in order.

A great third book. I think each book is better than the last and I might even reread this on now that I am done. It was such a great ride. I'm going to go back and re-read it from the beginning. If you liked Leviathan wakes or have seen The Expanse, you should read this. I understand why she won a Hugo.

After reading the first two in the series, this book ties up a lot of storylines while leaving me wanting more. I'm not as distracted by the author's genderless characters and the plot moves quickly without a lot of background scene setting that was established in the earlier books. The characters - AI, human, conquered and conqueror - are quite well done. Good and bad is not black and white. Beq has chosen her path - save the planet and the citizens (all of them) while not trying to save the empire.
I think that a little more editing would help make the book better. The dialogue was confusing at times, and there was some repetition. But, all in all, this is an exciting world to escape to in a book.

A fascinating viewpoint and well written novel. The main character is ethical, driven, and fallible. It takes awhile to understand the culture and dynamics but it is worth it. Introduces some novel ideas. Don't want to say more because I'd give a lot away.

Wonderful conclusion to the trilogy, being a ripping space opera while also being a literary fable exploring what makes a human. Breq is one of my favourite characters in sf.

The first book was fabulous, the second good and necessary, and this third validates reading the others.

Ancillary Mercy should join the others on the award nominations lists because how often do you find a conclusion that satisfies so completely?

Not to mention the book has a countdown song about eggs rather than bottles of beer. Peep, peep, peep, peep!

Probably my favorite book of the trilogy. I was really concerned that this wouldn't be a satisfying conclusion to the series, given the enormous scope of the problems Breq faces, and I was delighted to be wrong. The character interactions and worldbuilding continue to be a delight, and I thoroughly enjoyed the whole story.

My favourite of the trilogy and a wonderful ending. This series constantly made me re-evaluate my premises. Brilliant story -- takes on so many serious concepts and yet has a dry sense of humour throughout. Fell in love with Breq, but so many awesome characters, from Sphene to Translator Zeiat.

The Ancillary series is one of the best explorations of what it means to be a person I've ever read. It is breathtaking the way Leckie manages to wrap her ideas in a fun space opera populated with imperfect, believable characters.

A very satisfying conclusion to the story of Breq (formerly Justice of Toren). It's a 'Why didn't we see that possibility' kind of ending, which doesn't tie up every loose end, but leaves bits open the same way the real world does.

The entire "Ancillary" series was immensely entertaining.The resolution of the story also leaves open the possibility of more stories in a human/AI shared universe as in Neal Asher's "Polity" and Iain M. Banks' "Culture."

Listened to the Audible Version and really liking it. A wonderful production of the importance of relationship in space. Loyalty, Love, Friendship, Leadership and what makes a person, and tea lots and lots of tea. Reminds me of what I loved best about the original Star Trek, with a story set in a far off place that is ultimately human.

The relationships between AI's and "their" slaved humans, in a society that makes no distinction for gender is the setting for this fantastic series. Morality, ethics, greed, hubris set in the far future. This third book is equally as good as it's predecessors and I want more of the ancillary OneEsk 19, please!

Halfway through the book a group of soldiers engage in a combat drop. One of them fumbles the release and is left behind, endangering the mission and increasing the risk her comrades are facing. What does the captain say? "It's all right. Come inside, and have some tea." These are the actual words. Meanwhile, down in enemy territory, the soldiers are busy discussing the latest turns in their captain's love-life, or what songs she likes to sing.

Early on one of the lieutenants gets in trouble with her shipmate lover over the condescending nature of her remarks, but doesn't understand why she's caused offense. Leckie's vison of an all-female fighting force is offensively condescending to women in the military everywhere, and I suspect she likewise will fail to understand her fault. During the slack times in her ship's maneuvres her crew spends their time engaged in singing songs, sewing clothes (!!!) or repairing a tea-set. Obviously they have no need to see to their duties, or exercise, or engage in weapons or tactics training. They have far too much gossip to discuss, and need to decide on the next petty passive-aggressive slight they will inflict.

Leckie's attempt to depict a female military is a complete disaster. I thought of describing it as a slightly more serious version of the Girl Guides, but that would be offensive to the Guides. She's clearly trying to Make A Point, but does so in the most ham-fisted way possible. The sad thing is that, as the first book in this series showed, Leckie is capable of writing well. Unfortunately these last two books are ruined by her inane attempt to portray a domesticated military.

"One moment asleep. Awake the next, to the familiar small noises of someone making tea. But it was six minutes earlier than I’d intended. Why? I reached."

Once again, they chat. Not much storytelling or plot. But they drink tea. Lots of tea. So much tea. In elegant porcelain cups. Priceless white porcelain cups. Why? I asked. Doesn't matter. What matters is that another Hugo nomination is inevitable because this book, like the other two, "bravely" avoids using male pronouns. Take that, patriarchy!