Résultats pour "Chris Ryan" dans Science fiction et fantaisie

The gods are dead, but they are not gone. Their bodies litter the cosmos, magical fuel for vast interstellar empires, giving birth to mages, and more importantly, to magitech.

Tech Mage (Book one) Aran awakens in chains with no memory. He’s conscripted into the Confederate Marines as a Tech Mage, given a spellrifle, then hurled into the war with the draconic Krox and their Void Wyrm masters. Void Wyrm (Book two) Major Voria stands ready to accept the cost for her actions at Marid. Stripped of command and resources, Voria must find a ship and rally a crew. Somewhere within the Umbral Depths lays a hidden world, a world that the dead god Marid intended her to find.

After 26,000 years the Void Wraith have returned. The Eradication has begun. Mankind’s outer colonies are disappearing. Without warning. Without a trace. Fleet command chalks the attacks up to pirates, but Captain Dryker of the UFC Johnston isn’t buying it. Humanity cannot stop them. Not without help. Captain Dryker’s only hope is to forge an alliance with mankind’s greatest enemy, the savage Tigris. One maverick captain, an unlikely crew, and an aging vessel are all that stand between humanity and the Eradication.

Aran awakens in chains with no memory. He’s conscripted into the Confederate Marines as a Tech Mage, given a spellrifle then hurled into the war with the draconic Krox and their Void Wyrm masters. Desperate to escape, Aran struggles to master his abilities while surviving the Krox onslaught. Fighting alongside him are a Major who will do anything to win, a Captain who will stop at nothing to see him dead, and a woman whose past is as blank as his own.

The Ganog have arrived. Their fleets are endless. Their will implacable. They cannot use magic, but that isn't stopping them from wiping out mages. Behind them lurks a worse foe, the Gorthians, those holding the Ganog's leash. They have devoured countless galaxies, harvesting them over and over to create more monstrosities.

Contains the complete Void Wraith Origins trilogy: Dryker's Folly, Book One; Dryker's Stand, Book Two; and Dryker's Fall, Book Three.

Chosen. Framed by my father’s murderer. Running from the fae courts. Fated to never touch the man who sets my blood on fire.

Star Trek: No Man’s Land picks up right after the action-packed season one conclusion of Star Trek: Picard. While Raffi and Seven of Nine are enjoying some much-needed R&R in Raffi’s remote hideaway, their downtime is interrupted by an urgent cry for help: a distant, beleaguered planet has enlisted the Fenris Rangers to save an embattled evacuation effort.

My name is Xal, and I live in the dims - a walled prison where my people are kept by our cruel masters until we are needed to fight once more. One member of every family must answer The Call, for our blood bears the magic of a demonic god and all the terrible power that brings. We march to war against the Fomori, an unstoppable army of giants and their behemoths. If we do not, then our families are put to death. The Hasrans use us as cannon fodder and worse. They used up my father, and he never came home. Die resisting. Die fighting.

Things have never look so bleak. Saghir is on the run from the Avatar of Xakava, a city-sized demon that has already crippled the Spider-Mountain itself. Calmora is besieged by Totarius's endless legions, and more defenders fall daily. Li's only hope is marrying Lord Indra to seal the Celestial Mountain. She must sacrifice our future together to ensure the survival of her people. As for me? All I have to do is kill the eldest demon prince, my older and stronger brother, knowing that if he wounds me even slightly I will die. His wounds always kill.

The magical tea has worn off. My eyes are wide open. And it’s with horror that I realize the fate of two realms rests on my shoulders after my mother’s ultimate sacrifice to trap Rubezahl in Underhill. Terrified humans clamoring for answers, whispered rumors from both Seelie and Unseelie, and a stepmother who seeks the throne for surprising reasons are the least of my troubles. Rubezahl has returned far sooner than I thought possible. I’m not ready. I can’t win this. And not only that… He has something crucial if we are to win. He’s taken something I cannot live without.

The war in Hasra is over. A monstrous puppet sits upon the throne. Valys has fallen, and the Praetor rots in prison while his daughter remains a public hostage. Calmora is under Khonsu's rule, the dragonflight's plaything. Worse, my aunt and the other demon princes have fostered a new religion, which is sweeping the west. Our only choice was to flee to Olivantia, where we huddle with the dreadlords, who are under assault by the Tree of Blood and its armies of consumed. Things have never looked so grim. I have no more tombs. No more miracles from friendly gods.

We've discovered Terra, but the cost is bitter. All that remains is the Vagrant Fleet, carrying the refugees from every world. Earth is our only hope, but their leaders don't even believe in magic. We also have to convince the Earth flight protecting them that we're not hostiles. Did I mention the dread fleet is right behind us led by a dark god who seems to have a real hate-boner for Xal'Aran? If we're going to win, then we must harness the most powerful Catalyst in existence, the Eye of Om.

A pyramid predating all known cultures appears without warning. Its discovery throws into question everything we know about the origins of mankind. Inside lies incredible technology, proof of a culture far more advanced than our own. Something dark lurks within, eager to resume a war as old as mankind. When it is unleashed it heralds the end of our species’ reign

In the late 2020s and early '30s, corporations managed to render the major governments of the world obsolete. The big corporations owned most of the territories as well as the majority of the world's wealth. While many of the old traditions were still observed in various parts of the world, the true power was with the corporations. In the late '30s, what would be known as the Corporate Wars began as larger companies initiated hostile takeovers in a whole new fashion. Employees, armed with corporate weapons, warred for dominance. On May 1st, 2067, it all ended in a nuclear fire.

Four centuries ago, the Stewards rained ash on the heartland of an empire for a year and a day, murdering the Elentian Empire and orphaning the Hasran Imperium where I was born. The stories say the ash drains magic and that any who venture into the Ashlands will need to contend with the armies of unliving swimming beneath the ash—unliving as old as the Mad Imperator Jhordil himself.

I have been sentenced to death for the crime of being born; of winning the Hasran's war for them. But my death has purchased the freedom of my people, and so I go to it gladly, ready for whatever final torture they might have in mind. The Imperator has decreed that I will be sacrificed in the Great Games, a sacred ritual that will magically empower the Gateway Arena. It requires five god-souled, the reincarnations of gods, divine shards that can be fed to the Arena, and used to increase its size. It means my life has narrowed to one purpose: live.

They sent me into the blasted lands to die. I refused. I lived. And now...I return to the empire that discarded me. A god, rich with worship. I don't know what has become of Hasra, or the war with the Fomori. I don't know where Li is, or if her homeland is still dealing with the wyrm Khonsu. My sister and mother were freed—the reward for my blood price— but I have no idea what has become of them. It is time to go home. Time to right old wrongs, and to find the legacy left behind by my former incarnation. Three tombs remain. Once I am certain my family is safe I will seek them.

ll things must end. Welcome to the final Deathless novel. The builder Yoggoth has arrived in our Solar System, but his goal is not to conquer our world. He has locked the sun in a Yoggothian Sphere designed to siphon our star of all power. Earth is hurled into darkness, denied the lifegiving heat of our sun, even as Yoggoth's fleets move upon our world. Our heroes, led by Blair, Liz, and Isis, must deal with the new winter before they can even hope to oppose them.

Mankind's outer colonies are disappearing. Without warning. Without a trace. Fleet command chalks the attacks up to pirates, but Captain Dryker of the UFC Johnston isn't buying it.