Captain Shepard Mass Effect Novels & Stories

One in particular caught my eye. Dante Kade. Captain. Number 17. Ice-blue eyes. A name that came with a hundred headlines and at least five fangirl forums I pretended not to browse. He looked lethal. The kind of lethal that made smart girls run and stupid girls fall. I wasn’t here to do either. I tore my eyes away from the poster and squared my shoulders. The heel of my boot clicked against the tile with more attitude than I felt. I could fake it. I’d faked worse.

“Hold it right there. Who are you guys?” Hearing that, Philip quickly took another camouflage pill and transformed himself into Sydney’s appearance. “How dare you stop me?” Philip said uncannily and turned to stare at the other party with disdain. Philip recognized this man as Canis, the captain of the main security team. He had reached the early stage of the seventh zone and could be considered to be quite strong. The other party could reach this level in his 30s all thanks to the potions.

called Serra. But Kebin didn't see it coming, a huge red ball of fire was coming towards him. The captain only stared at it in surprise as it struck him right into his chest. A searing pain hits through his body and he fell to the ground, unconscious. "Captain!" Nysel gasped in horror. She finished the Reaper by slashing her sword into it's nasty face and flew towards Kebin. He's still breathing but ragged, his heartbeat was faint as the hope that they will survive this battle.

Liam just frowned, tossed me a basic blood-clotting agent from a medic, and said coldly, "You're the Head Beta, Elena. Endure it. Don't kill the morale." Back then, I told myself he was an Alpha. The pack came first. He couldn't be distracted by me. But now I see. It wasn't that he couldn't be tender. It wasn't that he didn't know how to care. His tenderness and his care were just never for me. The roar of the landing shuttle cut through their tender moment, and my memories. A squad of elite, heavily armed warriors marched down the ramp, led by a silver-haired captain with the Alliance's highest medal of honor on his chest.

No sooner had he enjoyed himself for a few days than something unpleasant happened. "Sir, Doctor Shepard is here." Hearing Professor Heist's voice, Ward immediately turned his head. Seeing Selon, he couldn't wait to ask, "Can you save it?"

That was the question he wanted answered the most. The serious captain finally cracked a smile. “Yes, we shall be landing on Kepler-452b.” Matthias looked at the captain up close. Since they were just simulated humans, they should be different from real humans. If he can smile, that means he has a real-life model somewhere. There were a lot of simulated humans around the deck, but most of them had a deadpan look on their face. The details were lacking, but obviously the creator had poured a lot of soul into the captain. It must have been hard to make even one character like that, so Matthias didn’t nitpick.

"Neither have I. Look, over there. Enormous, isn't it?" Careful lest he get sideways with the sometimes testy admiral who controlled the surrounding fifty thousand cubic miles of space, the Terminator's captain had successfully negotiated his way through heavy traffic and dropped into final orbit. Now, as the warship's navigation computer made some final adjustments, the one time battle wagon came into view. Though originally of human manufacture, the vessel had been overhauled, rebuilt, and modified so many times that she could no longer be considered the product of any particular race. A fitting symbol for a diverse organization.

I came to a halt, bending forward, hand bracing on my thighs as I forced air into my lungs. “Damn,” Tony muttered. “Is he even human?” “That’s why he’s our captain.” A few chuckles followed. I headed towards them, and Nathan shoved me a bottle of water. Twisting it, I took a long drink, water spilling down the corner of my mouth. After emptying the bottle, I squeezed it harder than necessary and tossed it to the floor. I was about to turn, when Nathan gripped me by the arm. “Where are you going?”

“Each of you has a name. A record. A history steeped in red. But not all guilt is the same. And not all crimes weigh equal on the soul.” One captain looked up. Commander Varn. Tall. Old. Scarred. One eye hollow from the Swamp Rebellion. Seren remembered him. He’d spared an Ashborn settlement when he didn’t have to. No reports. No witnesses. Just one act. She met his eye. He didn’t beg. She nodded once. “For what mercy you showed, however small, you will not die. But you will never command again.” Gasps rippled like smoke. She turned to another.