Showing results for "Whale" in First Contact

Jon Ryan has some unfinished business. Since he caused the universe to reboot, well, he can't seem to find his wife of two billion years. That's one great big oops. He also can't find the massive time ship Aramthella and her human crew. Double oops. And then there's the matter of not knowing whey why there are several copies of key people in the new reality he must navigate. Triple oops. He actually knows one whole heck of a lot less about his current situation than seems healthy. But he's Jon Ryan, former fighter pilot turned android warrior for humankind.

In a world devastated by alien invasion, Jarek and Rachel were never paragons of heroism. They survived, same as anyone else. They protected what was dear—Jarek with his exosuit and beloved AI companion, Rachel with her brother. They kept things simple... until the raknoth came and took it all away.

Reeling in the aftermath of the White Tower incident, Haldin Raish is struggling to get by. What he needs is time, peace and quiet, and probably the ear of an attentive soothsayer. But the raknoth have other plans... Across Enochia, terror reigns. Civilians are disappearing. Monstrous hybrids roam the land, attacking faster than the Legion can keep up. Across Enochia, the raknoth are winning.

My name is Haldin Raish. Legionnaire. And the High General just murdered my parents. My dad was well respected in the Legion. Always had a reputation for doing the right thing, no matter the cost. He was a good man. And whatever he stumbled onto got them both killed. Messily. Now, that red-eyed thing is coming for me. It walks like the High General. Talks like him, too. But it's not. Human beings don't shirk off gunfire and smack grown men across the room like that. Not even High Generals. And he's not the only one.

Nate Arturi isn't a knight in shining armor. He sure as hell isn't a king. And the last time someone called him heroic, it was because he fetched his neighbor's corgi off the roof. But when an ancient alien beacon awakens on Earth, sounding the call to enemies near and far, the Merlin is left with little choice. Any Knight in a Doomsday, or so the saying goes.

In the wake of the hybrid massacres, a devastated Enochia looks to their leaders for answers. From the safety of his White Tower, the High Cleric gives them. "Look no further than to those who upset Enochia's natural order to begin with," he says. "Look no further than to Haldin Raish, and his demonic ilk."

After 2,000 years, the Synth have returned. Terror grips the galaxy as brave Alliance heroes race to banish the ancient evil once and for all. But far behind enemy lines, cut off from all escape, one lone Knight learns that the truth of war is rarely so simple.

Nous étions adulés, nous parlions devant des stades entiers de lecteurs, nous faisions rêver les foules avec nos romans de science-fiction. Mais pas de bol, les aliens ont débarqué et plus personne n'a envie de lire nos histoires de petits hommes verts. Du coup, pour survivre, nous sommes devenus détectives privés. Pour des affaires liées aux ET, évidemment. C'est bien le seul domaine dans lequel on peut prétendre à une quelconque qualification. C'est que nous, Laurent Genefort, Pierre Bordage et Laurent Whale, avons de la ressource. Aucune affaire ne nous fait peur.