"Unless you have been living with your head buried in the sand, then you all know who I am. You all know of my slaying the maw and taking Gatatog for myself." I addressed the who's who of the krogan people atop the graves of our ancestors, "But what you people do not know is that I was not born. I was made, and burdened with glorious purpose."
I paused to allow the jeers for a moment, "I was made to bring unending war on my enemies, and from my first breath I have done so, and done it better than any ever before me."
More jeers, "First the collectors. The galactic boogeymen. I rode the Omega Four Relay to the galactic core and survived a journey none before save my enemy ever had. I battled my way into their hive world to its darkest depths and slayed the machine god they sought to raise up. I destroyed their home, drove them into dark space. But the collectors were weak foes, a pathetic imitation of the krogan horde trying to slay me with numbers and their feeble bodies."
Now I had their silence, all krogan loving the tales of foes slain, "So I sought another foe to defeat, and all eyes in the galaxy saw for themselves my slaying of the yahg, a beast of fearsome might and intelligence from the restricted world of Parnak. You heard the power in each attack, and if there is any doubt of his strength we can take a trip to that planet and one of you can attempt to recreate my feat. But those foes were all far away from Tuchanka, from the hearts of the krogan. And now I declare that I have slain the ultimate enemy of the krogan!"
I let the chatter and cries of 'what foe?' die down, "It is exactly what you all are thinking! I have slain the Genophage itself!"
Is it possible for reptiles to go ape shit? Yes it is.
"From my very blood, the Cure was forged!" I owned these space lizards now, "And each and everyone of you is going home today with enough Cure for your entire clan!"
You get the Cure, and you get the Cure. Thank you Oprah for teaching me to win friends and influence others.
"On this day I declare myself the Krogan Overlord!" I shouted at my amped out of their minds audience, "Who here has the quad and the shamelessness to deny my ascendance?"
Not a single taker. Must have maxed my speechcraft when I wasn't paying attention.
Being the Krogan Overlord wasn't that much different than being a Chief. I still spent all my time hunting, and feasting, and drinking, and fucking, just now there was some travel time added in between as I journeyed to each and every clan with my newly forged krant and led them in the afore mentioned activities.
Between Mordin and the geth taking care of the turian bomb and the sabotaged Shroud was simple and clean. Only the sabotage at the Shroud wasn't some kill switch to prevent an airborne version of the Cure from spreading on Tuchanka. It was enough toxins to choke out all life on the planet. But when you combine a super bomb with the toxin motherload you get a dirty as fuck bomb ready for delivery to either the Palavin or Sur'Kesh, whichever pissed me off enough first.
Currently the salarians were the closest to that point with the number of STG teams my people have found in our scouring of the wastes. At least their delicious amphibian flesh made up for the raw bullshit they were pulling.
Tensions were running high, especially because of how much I enjoyed riling up the turian and salarian ambassadors sent to Tuchanka after the galaxy recovered enough from the shock of my takeover. The ambassadors chosen by Dave and Celia (OC name for the unnamed second asari Councilor) were good people and just enough to keep open war from breaking out long enough for Shepard to blow up the Alpha Relay to prevent the newly arrived reaper fleet from gaining immediate access to the relay network and the capacity to blitz all our home worlds.
We officially had six months to prepare for the Reaper invasion.
My arrival on the Citadel caused almost as much a panic as the reaper's arrival to our galaxy. I stepped off the geth super dreadnought, now named the Kruban Bound, fully armed with my homie Legion operating a red Prime platform. When asked why he made the upgrade he claimed it made him feel safer from possible cybersexual assault.
Good times. Geth Fallout: New Vegas is dope as hell, though.
Our krogan honor guard had to reinforce the C-Sec escort to keep the peace while we made our way to the citadel tower and our meeting with the Council. They wisely met with us in a plush conference room rather than the incredibly patronizing supplicant promontory used for public business.
Somehow Celia had kept her job despite the massive conflict of interest now entering the third trimester growing in her womb. It was likely due to the amount of research and blueprints we sent to the asari in the hopes that they wouldn't be completely ass in the air when the reapers hit their worlds.
Between her and Dave we had a warm welcome despite the turian attempting to burn holes in us with his focused bird eyes. The salarian looked more stressed than pissed. I'd be the same if I had to constantly cover for a head of state as fucked in the head as the Dalatrass.
"Celia." I greeted my favorite politician and affectionately rubbed her swollen baby. "Princess."
"Dave." I nodded to Councilor Anderson, glad he had yet to cede his position to Udina, "No offense pal, but the fuck are you people doing locking up the Commander for slowing down the reapers. We'd be up to our eyeballs in lasers right now if she hadn't blown that relay."
"It's a sensitive political situation." Dave practically groaned, "A lot of innocent people died when she blew that relay. The batarians are out for her blood and house arrest on Earth allows us to both protect her and appear sympathetic about this tragedy."
"Fuck the batarians." I growled, "The only thing tragic about her blowing that relay was that she didn't kill more of them. It'd be a blessing and a half if the reapers took the time to wipe them out before moving on to the rest of us."
"Why don't you miracle us up a blessing?" The turian spoke bitterly, "The Ambassador passed along that you have been declared a living god on Tuchanka, a krogan Messiah. So deliver us oh great Grunt."
"Who am I to bridle if I am forced to be an idol?" I chuckled at the pissy turians needling.
"A sham." The turian dug.
"Doesn't stop me from being an object of devotion and the subject of psalms." I grinned as the reference went over everyone's heads.
"Gentlemen, please. Let's be civil here while we work on the diplomacy necessary to see us through these dark times." Celia chided us as she sat at the conference table.
Legion and I took two heavy duty chairs and I cocked an arm up on the highly reflective and polished table.
"Agreed." I nodded to Jack's baby momma, "We've got six months till the reapers are harvesting our home worlds."
"Six months?" David questioned from his place at the high table, "Where are you getting this number, the loss of the Alpha relay will hold them up for at least a year."
"You're underestimating their speed." I shook my head, "Six months people."
"That isn't nearly enough time to get our fleets retrofitted and our population centers ready." Celia stated in frustration.
"If it really is six months then there is no way we will be able to muster up the strength to defeat the reapers, even if we all banded together." Dave rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out a stressed sigh.
"Not necessarily." Legion stated, "Our partnership with the krogan has allowed all geth platforms to dedicate to manufacturing and resource acquisition. In return for a place on the Citadel Council for both the geth and the krogan, we are offering to extend our alliance to the other council races. Krogan warfighters and geth manufacturing in return for resources and representation."
"Warfighters?" Dave questioned the krogan contribution.
"Every day I ruin thousands of krogan lives by subjecting newborns to artificial age acceleration and education." I answered, "With the help of the geth I have been able to create education modules for ground pounders, fighter pilots, crewmen and every other job that doesn't require experience or emotional intelligence. The Tankgrown are as focused and disciplined as any krogan can be, and they have none of the biases the older krogan possess. I could drop an entire division on Palavin or Sur'kesh and they will perform entirely as instructed. You give us what we want and I will let you purchase as many krogan bodies as you need."
"That sounds an awful lot like slavery." Dave commented while giving me the suspicious side eye.
"That's because it is." I growled, "I've subjected my own children to this, so don't think for even a minute that I am gleeful about what we are doing. But there is no cost too high to pay to defeat the reapers."
"You really think an entire division of krogan warriors could hold discipline on Palavin?" the turian sounded impressed for the first time in this meeting.
"I'll let you all send military officers to Tuchanka to test the Tankgrown." I told him, "You will see for yourselves that they are a blunt instrument, but they will hold the line without question."
We worked over the details for hours, but left that conference room with everything we came for.
The announcement of the krogan and geth joining the Citadel Council brought the quarians to the table of peaceful negotiation rather than launching an insane war at the onset of a galactic extinction event.
The Admiralty Board came to the Tuchanka to negotiate the quarians' return to Rannoch. For me it was just a nice excuse to get Miss Hips back into the sack, and what a sack it had become. The ruined city that Gatatog held for centuries had been rebuilt by the geth and now looked more like Night City than something you'd expect the ultra territorial krogan to live in.
The massive vertical construction effort was more just an ego trip. With the Tankgrown females now pumping out kids of their own, we needed to plan every inch of outward and upward growth to accommodate the exponentially growing population, and with unnatural disasters like Kalros moving beneath the wastes, horizontal expansion wasn't always an option. Better to build up on a solid stone and concrete foundation than build out on the shifting sands and have her wreck all your efforts.
Negotiating with the quarians was EZPZ considering the geth had chosen the transfer out of the Perseus Veil after the the war with the reapers and settle permanently with the krogan, the marriage of our two peoples providing the security and stability for both our species to pursue our natural specializations more successfully.
Ultimately the geth did not want to participate in conflict and we did. Match made in Heaven.
The sight of the quarian Admirals composure breaking down when we told them that after we beat the reapers we'd just give them back their home world was worth missing out on a few days of hunting, feasting, drinking, and fucking... well not fucking between Tali and Jack that wasn't an option.
I think leadership is putting me into a rut, but a rutting I gladly participate in.
As the months crept by and the reapers barred down on us nearer and nearer, many of the young Tankborn had left the planet, taking up positions with Aria and Liara firstly, and then by the asari military, the human Alliance, and lastly the turian Hierarchy. The salarian interest in krogan mercenary forces were quashed by the Dalatrass and if they suffer for it they know who to blame. I damn near launched the doomsday dirty bomb on Sur'kesh for her insolence in our last diplomatic blow up over yet another STG team I had at my table for dinner.
For fuck's sake there is a giant statue of Mordin Solus being carried on my shoulder as we raise our arms in victory in front of my kick ass palace. How thick does a person need to be to not get the message?
We can be friends you dumb fucking bitch.
Maybe if I paint it onto my palatial lawn she will be able to see the message from a spy satellite.
Nah. She still wouldn't understand.
When Aria T'loak turned up at my personal hanger with our young daughter and a tale of Oleg Petrovsky threatening to destroy Omega if she didn't hand control of the station over to Cerberus I knew two things. Everyone was finally where I needed them to be and this is the night bitches die.
Well… when I get there is the night bitches die. Space travel takes time.
This is the last interstitial chapter between ME2 and ME3. I hope everyone liked my world building and is ready for Cerberus to get squashed in the next chapter.
I silently waited along with the other cramped members of my personal platoon, Legion, Overlady Jack, and the once and future Queen of Omega, Aria T'loak,. Both women wore highly protective, strength enhancing, and biotic amping armored suits made by the geth on Tuchanka using the best materials and research available, and bearing arms of similar caliber.
When the Stealth Spike shuddered and the alarm flashed and blared we all lit up our tech armor and other tech enhancements. The front of the Spike split open and we rushed onto the Atlas Station alongside scores of other Stealth Spike boarding vessels the Kruban Bound had launched, while our fighters and fleet waited patiently to kill anyone attempting to leave the doomed Cerberus headquarters.
Similar operations ran simultaneously at Sanctuary and all the other Cerberus bases I knew of save Omega. I'd deal with Omega myself after this.
The fighting was fierce but I never even got to swing the new glowing hot omni blade axe my hammer projected. It felt like I'd been jipped but the sight of my sons tearing the Cerberus force to pieces as we calmly walked uninterrupted to the Illusive Man's office was a joyous one.
We barely got the chance to hear Martin Sheen's voice by the time Jack biotic yanked him from his seat and I'd cleaved him into three floating pieces.
It was the work of moments for Legion to get through the minimal security on the Illusive Man's workstation and he was soon transferring Cerberus's immense liquid assets over to our accounts and sending the locations of all of the organization's other bases and assets back to Tuchanka to scramble a second and final series of attacks. The fact that our forces would also strip every physical resource meant a major windfall during this final month before the reaper's reached the relay network.
Lastly, Legion would send the identity and information of every Cerberus agent and supporter to every known government.
Fuck these guys.
While our geth pal put the kibosh on Cerberus, Draug sent me the visual confirmation of Henry Lawson's death. With that I dialed up Oleg on Jack's personal communication system. It took ten minutes for Oleg to make it to the call center they set up on Omega but that didn't bother us.
"Oleg!" I called out to him like an old friend.
"Overlord Gatatog Grunt." Oleg sighed, "Then you have taken Atlas Station."
"I'd bring Jack in on this conference call," I lifted the portion of the Illusive man with his head and shook it a bit, "but he has really fallen to pieces."
"He deserved far better than such callous indignity." Oleg shook his head in disgust.
"From a view of pure achievement, sure." I agreed with the able General, "From a moralist view we should throw all the pieces in a fire and dance around it."
"The same can be said of you." The General growled.
"Indeed." I agreed again, "Henry is dead as well. You're the last head of the dog. Cut off from both funding and reinforcements. The next stop for my fleet is Omega. If you are still there when we arrive then you have chosen your fate. Flee and we won't follow."
"Won't follow!" Aria objected loudly, "Oleg will die for daring to take Omega from me!"
"This moment" I told the pissed asari, "is when you show the whole galaxy the value of your life, of our daughter's life. Oleg had you dead to rights, had our daughter too, and he let you both go. If you don't give him the same chance it proves that your lives have no value, and they have value to me."
"Even cut off, you won't be able to take Omega from me." Oleg denied the offer of his life, "The defenses we installed on this station will tear any attacking fleet to shreds."
"I find your lack of faith disturbing." I told him as I cut off the call.
"What the fuck made you think you could make that offer without consulting me?" Aria growled.
My army, my fleet, my ultra awesome cock you have been riding since you showed up as a supplicant on my doorstep.
"My debt to Oleg has been repaid." I shook my head at her audacity, "And his defenses are going to do jack shit against the Stealth Spikes."
The Stealth Spikes were designed for Halo drops onto hostile planets and penetrating enemy ships and stations. Imagine emergency evacuation pods shaped like railroad spikes, armored to hell and back, and fired from the Kruban Bound's main guns. They could be retrieved, but had no propulsion systems of their own.
We ended up back in our spike waiting for retrieval before long. The operation had been a one sided success. Shepard and friends took this station with faith, trust, and pixie dust. We smashed them with hot muscle and cold steel.
Aria chose to withhold her pussy from me, but the joke is on her cause Jack and I do our best work without distractions like her coming between us.
Our fleet met up with the forces Aria managed to call up for this battle and we quickly engaged the blockading Cerberus fleet. The defensive laser cannons Petrovsky set up took their toll on our ships, but the Kruban Bound easily came into range to deploy the Stealth Spikes, landing a platoon near every emplacement and on every notable strategic position on the station. Our own Spike deployed us at the front doors of the Afterlife Club.
I remember how much bullshit Shepard and Aria had to go through to get here, and now I managed to land two hundred krogan warriors right at the end to the campaign. I'd soon find out how badly Petrovsky shit himself when we came out of the spike in a blaze of omnitool orange, shields out and hammers primed to ruin the day for all the half husk Cerberus soldiers.
Now this was what I was hoping for. Oleg had turned the club into a stronger fortress than the Atlas station ever could be. Heavy machine guns and mechs supported by Cerberus's brain washed cyborg soldiers and their custom Rampart Mechs. Cerberus contested every inch and made us pay dearly for them.
My shield and axe worked tirelessly against the defenders as my sons dealt with the machine gun nests using heavy grenade launchers. I emptied my own grenades blasting down the Rampart Mechs, the incendiary grenades eating through their heavy armor and leaving them either destroyed or close to it.
There was fire and blood and screams and explosions. I saw my own sons dying around me, always pressing the enemy even with their entrails hanging down from their bodies or limbs blown off. Their lack of self interest and hyper focus costing us more casualties than the enemies skill at arms. Despite that, the overwhelming pressure caused a cascading collapse of the Cerberus defenders and we secured the exterior of the club, my remaining sons stomping any survivors to death.
"Let's kill this mother fucker." I growled and I would have spat if not for my helmet.
"Damn straight." Aria agreed.
"I never miss an opportunity to slay some Cerberus dogs." Jack grinned under her helmet.
We led a single squad into the club, all of them carrying arc projectors to swiftly deal with Oleg's ambushers. The presence of the Adjutants made the fight far harder than the other enemies, but we slew them all and would burn the remains later.
Oleg begged for his life after the death of his defenders, but I had no pity in me for people like him. I shut down the laser defense system from his command console while my boys poured ryncol down his throat.
For us a magical beverage. For a human, ground glass. Oleg died in great pain choking on his own blood.
Aria took off her helmet and spat on him.
"Oleg was mine to kill." she told me.
"No." I shook my head, "Omega is yours, because I am giving it back to you. Oleg and all his men and machines and monsters are mine."
"You want me to drop to my knees and thank you?" Aria growled at me.
"I want you to feel thankful." I told her, "I don't care what words you say, so long as you haven't become conceited enough to no longer understand when you've been given a free ride. My son's and I took back your home and with the death of the Cerberus fleet outside they are going to land in the thousands to purge this place of their filth and corruption."
"Fine." the reinstated Queen said, "While we wait for the cleansing krogan wave, I want to make another baby."
"Now that is something we can both enjoy." I grinned.
The things I do for my galaxy.
We have now seen a situation where the Tankborn's focus and aggression delivered absolute victory and one where that focus and aggression cost them dearly.
If Grunt is a Spartan 2 then the Tankgrown are Spartan 3's. Strong as hell, but disposable.
With Cerberus completely gone before the start of ME3, the victory conditions are easy to meet. I think their are only two chapters left of Mass Effect. Grunt and his pals are going to drop their fat krogan balls on the Rachni and then the Reapers are going to get fucked by a max power Crucible.
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