The Alliance handpicked a crew of brave men and women: soldiers willing to risk their own lives, individuals ready to make the ultimate sacrifice in the name of discovery and progress. And to lead this crew they chose a man of unique character and unquestioned strength, one they knew would not falter in the face of untold adversity. A man named Jon Grissom.

Upon their successful return through the mass relay, the entire crew had been hailed as heroes. But the media had chosen Grissom — the imposing, solemn commander of the mission — to become the flag- bearer of the Alliance as humanity forged ahead into a new age of unparalleled discovery and expansion.

“Whatever’s happened,” Eisennhorn said, still hoping he could pull Grissom from his dark state of mind, “you have to believe we can deal with it. You and I never could have imagined that we could

accomplish all this in such a short time!”

Grissom gave a snort of derision. “We couldn’t have done a damn thing if it wasn’t for the Protheans.” Eisennhorn shook his head. While it had been the discovery and adaptation of Prothean technology that

had opened up these great possibilities, it was the actions of people like Grissom that had transformed possibility into reality.

“If I have seen farther, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants,” Eisennhorn countered. “Sir Isaac

Newton said that, too.”

“Why the obsession with Newton? He a relative or something?” “Actually, my grandfather was tracing our family’s genealogy and he — ” “I didn’t really want to know,” Grissom growled, cutting him off.