Rake Ashcor, one of the deadliest assassins in the star system with over a thousand kills to his name, has been hired by the Phoenix to get the technology and silence Gilead for good. If Rake and the Phoenix succeed, the System Alliance could be torn apart. How far will she go for vengeance?
Adventure, romance, revenge, mecha, paranormal powers and intrigue fill the pages of this new saga. An original novel written by Hugo Award-winning author N. The mission will send , colonists on a one-way, year-long journey into the unknown. When essential—and dangerous—tech is stolen, Cora is assigned to recover it before it can be used against the Initiative, and end the mission before it can begin.
All Rights Reserved. The thrilling prequel to the award-winning video game from BioWare Every advanced society in the galaxy relies on the technology of the Protheans, an ancient species that vanished fifty thousand years ago. After discovering a cache of Prothean technology on Mars in , humanity is spreading to the stars; the newest interstellar species, struggling to carve out its place in the greater galactic community.
On the edge of colonized space, ship commander and Alliance war hero David Anderson investigates the remains of a top secret military research station; smoking ruins littered with bodies and unanswered questions. And where is Kahlee Sanders, the young scientist who mysteriously vanished from the base—hours before her colleagues were slaughtered? Sanders is now the prime suspect, but finding her creates more problems for Anderson than it solves. Humanity has reached the stars, joining the vast galactic community of alien species.
The Illusive Man, leader of the pro-human black ops group Cerberus, is one of the few who know the truth about the Reapers. But when Kahlee learns that Grayson is missing, she turns to the only person she can trust: Alliance war hero Captain David Anderson. Together they set out to find the secret Cerberus facility where Grayson is being held.
And time is running out. The insidious whispers grow ever stronger in his head, threatening to take over his very identity and unleash the Reapers on an unsuspecting galaxy. Short overview about this book : An all-new adventure inspired by the award-winning videogame from BioWare! The universe is under siege. Every fifty thousand years, a race of sentient machines invades our galaxy to harvest all organic life-forms. His face was obscured by a reflective visor and breathing apparatus.
I appear before you as a duly authorized representative of the quarian fleet. And Anderson knew why. It was the quarians who had created the artificial intelligences known as the geth three hundred years earlier. Later, in the wake of the hard-fought geth rebellion, the quarians had been forced to take refuge on a collection of starships called the Migrant Fleet.
And because of that history other races looked down on the nomads. The audience seated in the Council Chamber uttered a chorus of boos which garnered a stern warning from the human master-at-arms. My soldiers will clear this room if necessary. She was in the matriarch stage of a very long life and known for her reasonable nature. Her bluish skin seemed to glow as if lit from within. You may proceed.
The matter I wish to put before you is simple. And we understand why. But a great deal has changed since then and we believe the time has come for a new relationship.
That is why I come before the Council seeking permission to reopen a quarian embassy on the Citadel. After all, even the batarians have such an office in the Presidium, so why should the Migrant Fleet be excluded?
That took ten minutes and the quarian had to stand and wait until the process was completed. Then the debate began in earnest and it soon became clear that the Council was split. The salarian and human members were in favor of the proposal while the others were opposed.
After fifteen minutes of give-and-take it was the asari who offered a compromise. Diet z cept of reopening a quarian embassy, because it implies the existence of a cohesive government. And Representative Maynar has yet to prove that such an organization actually exists.
I believe that the creation of formal linkage through which the quarian fleet can communicate to the Council would be a positive development. So rather than an embassy I suggest that we authorize a quarian consulate. Then, when and if conditions warrant, that presence can be elevated to the status of a full-scale embassy. There would be no embassy, but a step had been taken, and the fleet would be pleased. The next hour passed slowly for Anderson, Kahlee, and Nick.
As Anderson stood Kahlee took the opportunity to admonish Nick. And be ready in case we need you. The puzzle was designed for biotics so there were no physical controls. Just receptors through which dark energy could be channeled. The asari was on the far left. The salarian came next, followed by the turian and human.
Though not in uniform, Anderson stood as if he was, with his back ramrod straight and his arms at his sides. He had black hair, a rounded face, and olive-colored skin. Kahlee had served in the military many years earlier but had spent even more time as a civilian. Nevertheless she understood that appearances were important and was careful to maintain eye contact with the Council members. The asari was the first to speak. Who will speak first? Frankly, I feel the Reaper angle to be a bit far-fetched.
So, being unable to rely on support from that quarter, Anderson chose his words with care. Diet z is evidence that Paul Grayson, the man who invaded the academy and murdered a number of staff members, was a Cerberus operative at one time. At that point he was imprisoned on a space station and subjected to a series of experiments that placed him under Reaper control. We know because we saw the lab with our own eyes.
And the man was a red sand addict. You admit that he was employed by Cerberus. Why concoct elaborate theories regarding the Reapers when his motivations are so obvious?
But he was also the parent of one of my students. A very talented biotic named Gillian. And Grayson doted on his daughter. So to attack the place where she went to school ran contrary to his interests. But he did it anyway. And where did he go? To our research lab. The place where all of the data pertaining to our students was stored. Then, after killing three staff members, he entered the OSD library, where every readout and every test result were stored.
Moments later he began to send the data out. You can prove that Grayson sent information to the Reapers? And that the data was sent to them? No offense Admiral, but the person in question worked for Cerberus. And you are human. Therefore it would be understandable if you sought to shift the blame away from your own kind. And perhaps that was enough to influence her judgments. It took all of the discipline acquired during a career in the navy to keep from snapping at her. Plus, to the extent that they could be tested, the mechanisms installed in his body are far too exotic to have been created by Cerberus.
But seeing is believing. So with your permission I would like to call for Exhibit A. The sooner this farce is over the better. Diet z A spotlight came on and a gentle hiss was heard as a glistening metal column extruded from the floor below. And that was when the Council members saw the thing that had been Grayson.
The body was enclosed in a transparent stasis field. It sparkled as dust motes came into contact with it. There were two blue-edged projectile holes near the center of his forehead and his eyes were disturbingly open, as if looking up at the person who had pulled the trigger. The implants that had been installed in his limbs were dead now, bereft of the energy that once animated them, but could still be seen running snakelike under the thin semitranslucent covering of his flesh.
It was as if his entire body had been systematically repurposed. The poor man. His eyes flicked back to salarian. He had two employers. And the second had an unquenchable thirst for information. He slipped away. Kahlee entered the waiting room and scanned the seats. Nick was nowhere to be seen. Most of the other petitioners had left by then, but a salarian was present and still waiting his turn. Do you know where he went? What she got was a recording. Leave a message. Diet z are he got bored and took off for The Cube.
The Cube is on the way home. A responsibility she took very seriously. They took the glassed-in elevator down to the ground floor and left through the main entrance.
The same turian was on duty so Kahlee paused to speak with him. Have you seen him? And if you lost the boy whose fault is that? Was he alone? Or with someone? Come on. It had been built by biotics for biotics as a place where they could compete with each other and sharpen their skills. In order to join a person had to have a proven ability to throw, pin, or block objects. The asari were natural biotics although some were more skilled than others. But for other races, including the krogan, turians, salarians, and humans, biotic abilities were the result of exposure to element zero, or eezo.
And most if not all biotics were equipped with implants called Bio-amps that served to amplify and synchronize their talents.
Such individuals were classified as Level 1, Level 2, or Level 3, according to their strength and stability. Nick was an Level 2 and had been working out at The Cube in hopes of qualifying as an Level 3. The gym, if that was the right word, was located on a dimly lit commercial thoroughfare and identified with a glowing sign.
A reptilian krogan was stationed outside the front door to keep the merely curious away. He was about two meters tall and weighed upwards of one hundred and fifty kilograms. Like all of his kind the doorkeeper had a slightly hunchbacked appearance as a result of the shell-like layers of flesh and bone that rode his powerful shoulders. His face was flat, brutish, and notable for the absence of any discernible ears or nose.
A pair of small, wide-set eyes regarded Anderson with a brooding hostility. His voice sounded like a gravel crusher in low gear. Diet z The door gave access to a cramped lobby from which members could access the locker room and the area beyond.
A narrow flight of stairs led up to a small balcony where spectators could view the action below. The viewing area was empty. So they followed a ramp down to the front row where they had a good view of the cube-shaped space for which the gym was named. One of the boxes lit up, a tone was heard, and a computer-generated voice delivered the score. At least a dozen biotics were down on the main floor sitting or standing along the walls. Some of them clapped as the point was scored, but were forced to scatter when the turian took his revenge, and the salarian came flying their way.
One membership or two? Has he been here today? You could extend his membership though. Two hundred and fifty credits for six months. Does our son have friends here? People he tends to hang out with? They work out together. Both are listed as Level Threes. Three minutes later the humans were back on the street.
Kahlee eyed the slip of paper. Not one little bit. But he decided to keep his concerns to himself as they dropped two levels down and made their way through increasingly claustrophobic streets lined with bars, strip joints, and sim clubs. Diet z swirled around them watched the couple the way predators eye their prey.
But appearances were everything. And thanks to the fact that Anderson and Kahlee looked like they knew what they were doing they were allowed to pass unimpeded.
The sign out front read Sunsu Electronics. A commercial building seemed like an unlikely place for the biotics to live. Anderson opened the door and they went inside. A middle-aged woman was seated behind the front desk.
She smiled. We were told they live here. Nobody lives here. Other than the duct rats that is. There are three employees and we all go home at night. The moment Kahlee was outside she made another call and got the same result. Nick was missing.
He could see the ruins of an abandoned mining operation in the foreground and a line of jagged peaks in the distance. It was a miserable place, but one that would help ensure his privacy, which was very important to him. The operative had proved himself many times and was a very important part of the Cerberus operation. He had black hair and brown eyes that harkened back to his Chinese ancestry.
But the shape of his face and the color of his skin hinted at what might have been some Slavic DNA as well. The guest chair sighed as he sat down. Diet z rette, set fire to it, and took a deep drag. He liked the process, the taste, and the feel of nicotine entering his bloodstream.
Words mingled with smoke. From an operative on the Citadel. It seems that Paul Grayson has been testifying against us. I put two projectiles in his head. That allowed David Anderson and Kahlee Sanders to preserve the corpse and use it as part of a presentation to the Citadel Council.
Our credibility is at stake. But not Leng. He just sat there, his face empty of expression, waiting. The Illusive Man liked that. He took another drag and let the smoke emerge with the words.
The Council gave Anderson and Sanders permission to continue their investigation. A beautiful brunette arrived one minute later. She was wearing a nicely cut jacket, miniskirt, and knee-high boots. Then, having poured three fingers of the amber liquid into a glass, she left. The Illusive Man watched her go before picking up the glass and turning toward the portal.
The icescape was like the universe itself. Cold and inimical to human life. But the race will survive, the Illusive Man thought to himself, no matter the cost. But her hull was sound, her drives were practically new, and she was well-armed. It was a gloomy place; what little light there was emanated from a row of disks that ran the length of the compartment. Diet z cling system. All McCann could do was try to carry out a regimen of isometric exercise, fantasize about regaining his freedom, and doze.
Or would you like to lose your feet? The restraint system was designed to allow the slave masters to isolate and control troublesome individuals, and to protect them if the ship was forced to execute high-gee maneuvers.
So McCann knew the batarians were preparing for one of those possibilities. But which one? The answer came as a tone sounded and a voice was heard over the intercom. Secure the ship for battle. All crew members will report to their battle stations.
Primary weapons are armed. Secondary weapons are armed. Tertiary weapons are armed. Estimated time to contact forty-seven minutes. That will be all. But some critical pieces of information were still missing. Were the batarians about to be attacked? Or about to attack someone else? And if so, what were they after?
A woman started to pray, a turian told her to shut up, and McCann found himself in the strange position of hoping that his captors would win the upcoming battle. I repeat. This is not a drill. What may be a pirate or a slaver is closing with us and, based on our preliminary sensor readings, will make contact in about forty-two minutes.
All adult personnel will report to their battle stations—and all minors will enter the Creche. At eighteen Gillian qualified as an adult, although her status as one of only two humans on board put her in a slightly different class, as did the fact that she was a Level 3 biotic. Which was to say the only Level 3 on the Idenna.
It was an important assignment because the boarding party would play a critical role in defending the ship should they make hull-to-hull contact with their attackers. Diet z slavers. In order to profit they had to board and take over. There was no profit to be made by destroying their prey.
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