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37.7% Mass Effect SI: Ultimate Krogan / Chapter 46: Prophecy Broken

Bab 46: Prophecy Broken

"Grunt Desilijic Tiure!" Anakin Skywalker screamed at the front gate of my Mega Fortress, a much changed man.

Gone was the hero without fear of the Republic, replaced by a gaunt man with eyes glowing like pools of lava in the night, standing on two robotic legs in a loincloth.

"You took my mother!" He shouted, "You killed my student! You murdered my wife!"

True facts about your step dad.

"If you have any pride in your wretched body you will come down and face me. No weapons, no armor, no tricks. Just the power and speed of our bodies!"

"What a fool." Ventress commented, "The poor boy has lost his mind and will be put down like a rabid mongrel."

"No." Jack shook her head, "He won't."

"My step-son has stated his case." I announced to everyone in the throne room watching the feed from the front gate, "He has listed three terrible transgressions and demanded the Rite of Kombat. This matter is sacred, none shall touch him save me."

"You can't be serious?" Ventress scoffed, "Shoot him now and be done with it."

"If I do not meet this sacred challenge then I prove now and forever that I am craven, that I am unworthy, and will be denied my place in the feasting halls of Kruban no matter how great my legend becomes. Even if no one were to believe the boy's case, I would know the truth and be compelled to face him or live the rest of my cowardly life hollow of honor."

"What the hell is Kruban?" Ventress questioned quietly.

"Big lizard business." Jack answered her in the same tone.

I had once more made assumptions and the Force subverted me. Guiding my enemy to the correct method of taking me down. Had Anakin assaulted my fortress, he would be unable to infiltrate it in the same way as the multifarious Palpatine. He would have been caught and I would have the time to arm up for the battle in a suit of invulnerable armor with a sword and shield capable of disabling his strongest weapon.

Instead the Dark Side of the Force had guided Anakin to the only battle he could feasibly win against me. I doubted that even giving himself over to the Dark Side completely would allow him the physical amplification Darth Jar Jar showed, but even without that Anakin would be an enemy both fast and powerful.

I made the fallen Jedi wait while I prepared for sacred kombat, stripping off my rings and chains and robes. I slipped into a hot bath and after the Twi'lek attendants cleaned me thoroughly Jack buffed my scales and plates with fragrant wax. I donned a tight pair of pants and a phrik codpiece with a layer of impact absorbing gel covered in finest silk.

I made my way to the front gate and gathered an escort of cortosis plated C-B3 ultra battle droids. We arrived at the perimeter wall with a platoon of commando droids aiming their slugthrower longrifles at the waiting challenger.

The gate opened slowly enough to get people's dicks hard and my escort ran forward, creating a wide circle around Anakin and turned away from him with their blasters up, ready to slay anyone who tried to interfere.

"You'll have to forgive the codpiece boy." I told him as he grinded his teeth at the sight of me, "I swore to your mother that I would never again willingly enter combat without protecting the family jewels."

Anakin's skin paled as black veins spread throughout his human flesh. His eyes bled crimson and his voice came out like gravel.

"You took my mother!" He hoarsely screamed, "Killed my student! Murdered my wife!"

And with that the fight was on.

Anakin moved with all the swiftness and guidance the Dark Side could channel through his body and closed distance at incredible speed. His fist impacted on my guard with a thunderous clash that left me clenching my teeth and I responded with an uppercut he weaved around and countered with a hook that grazed my ribs.

He backed out of my reach and side stepped quickly before darting back in and working another combo, this time getting clipped by a jab coming in but he minimized the damage by rolling his head and letting it only strike him with a glancing blow. His follow up cross hook combo hit me cleanly and dealt far more damage.

Over the course of the next several minutes this frustrating process continued, as the Chosen one danced around my attacks and almost always landed cleanly with his own.

I spat out a glob of blood after a jaw rattling strike and grinned at the fallen Jedi.

"Good hit boy." I laughed and caught him clean with a jab that sent him reeling back with a cut over his eye.

With the help of the Force, Anakin had needed no time at all to establish the proper range of the fight and learn my patterns. Even if the Force couldn't read me to give him the precognition that made fighting even poorly trained Jedi a pain in the ass for regular people, it still brought his reaction speed down to near zero and guided him to where he needed to be to hurt me.

As a mostly regular giant space lizard man I needed time to establish a read on him, and now that I had it he needed to vary his patterns and implement feints and fakes to move me into the positions he needed me in. Skills he had as a swordsman, but quickly proved to lack as a brawler.

The fight turned.

Over the next few exchanges Anakin ate another clean jab and a teep kick that kept him from coming in on me to bring his shorter limbs into play. To counter this he began to attack my limbs specifically, trying to slow them down so he could regain the upper hand. A good strategy against someone without my powerful regenerative healing factor, but I wasn't going to let him know that.

As his damage grew so did my confidence and I pursued the fatal finish, coming at the boy with a cardio burning barrage of combinations that put him on the backfoot for the first time in the fight. Or so I thought.

Anakin ducked under a sloppy looping over eager hook and executed a flawless spinning side kick that sent me flying and to the ground with my wind knocked out of me.

For the uninitiated, the spinning side kick is the single most powerful kick the human body can produce. It is the perfect combination of torque and grounded stability and I just ate a flawless example from a guy with robo legs and the empowerment of giving in fully to the Dark Side.

Anakin unleashed a series of soccer kicks on me while I got my shit together after taking a kick that would make a speeding Truck-Sama jealous.

"You took my mother! You killed my student! You murdered my wife!" he screamed while he tried to murder me with head kicks.

When I grabbed one of those kicks in an inescapable vice grip, Anakin knew it was that moment he'd fucked up.

I dragged the Chosen One to the ground and mounted him, my superior lifting strength making it so simple to move my hands up to his head and dig my thumbs into his eyes which began bleeding as I pressed, forcing him to scream in agony and terror.

"I took you mother!" I screamed right back at him, "I killed your student! I murdered your wife!"

And I popped your head like a bad zit.

I got up and lifted my step-son's broken body in one hand and pounded my titanic slab of chest muscle with the other.

I screamed in victory, "I AM KROGAN!"


PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA
JManM JManM

I bet no one expected the Star Wars arc to conclude in a fist fight.

This chapter came out so smoothly that I think I will have time to write the chapter that transitions them to Skyrim tonight.

I am so excited.

If you want to support me and my family please do so at

ko - fi . com / jmanm

Bab 47: Skyrim Jump Chapter (Formerly P is for Perfection)

Shmi wailed terribly over the dead body of her son, so I did us all a favor and snatched a rifle from a nearby guard droid and put Old Yeller down.

She'd served her purpose nicely, but without a sadistic need to rub my sexual domination of his mother into the Chosen One's face I didn't have any further use for her.

With my good deed for the day done I called for a massive feast in celebration of my victory. The party was made far livelier by the contingent of young buff hutts that worked as my training partners and fraternity brothers. Much liquor was consumed and words were said, and my fist met Grakkus's face over some petty shit, signaling to Jack that it was time to take me to bed before I could further ruin the party.

"Alright Big Boy, now its just you and me." She grinned as she stripped us down.

That night I made love like a man possessed, achieving sexual heights never before seen in this galaxy, and when my release came the universe itself couldn't handle it and gaped open a portal to another dimension.

As we fell through reality, I realized I'd done it again. Awe shucks.

Jar-Shak had known what he wanted in life even as a young hatchling in Leyawiin. He felt the call of the mysteries of magic and studied as much as he could for the day he would join the Mages Guild. Oh how he would rejoice on that happy day.

A day that never came. When Jar-Shak came to the book store to return a faulty Flames and Healing spell tomes he received the worst news of his life. The book seller, an active mage herself, checked the young argonian with a spell and informed him that it was not the spell tomes that were at fault, it was his own minuscule magicka pool. She told him that even if he trained his whole life he would never have enough mana to perform Apprentice level magic, and would only ever be able to channel novice spells for a brief moment, some not even at all. The most he would ever achieve with his magic would be to heal a small scrape or a bruise, light a camp fire.

Weeping, the young argonian ran to the Mages Guild who confirmed the book seller's prognosis. His fellow argonian counseled him to give up on magic and instead focus on building his life around his exceptional stamina reserves, but Jar-Shak would not be deterred, not when their was still a chance however small to achieve his dream of becoming a mage.

The next day Jar-Shak began his trek up to Skyrim, to the northernmost part of the Empire and to the College of Winterhold, the one time rival of the Mages Guild. Despite the cataclysm that sunk much of the region into the sea, Jar-Shak held on to the hope that the College would have a path for him to follow to his dream. He clutched that hope tightly as he endured the hardships of the road and the brutal cold of Skyrim. And when he arrived at his destination, that hope was finally extinguished.

They didn't even let him inside.

Weeping tears that froze to his scaly face, Jar-Shak withdrew from society and travelled south slowly, living the life of a subsistence hunter and gatherer. In Falkreath he ran afoul the local Jarl and was charged as a poacher. Using his incredible stamina and the wiry body his months of travel had built, Jar-Shak fled faster than the guards could pursue him, even outlasting the horses that attempted to ride him down as he ran thorough the woods.

Completely crushed by his lot in life, Jar-Shak fell in with the outlaws that had taken over Fort Neugrad. Though he never participated in their highway robberies, the argonian found his place in life providing meat and hides for the bandit tribe. He never found happiness, but at least he experienced occasional pleasure with the female nord who ran the group with an iron fist.

His life was tolerable until the sky split open and a pair of terrifying people fell on top of him and began ripping into him with their teeth.

All he ever wanted was to be a mage.

Jack and I gained a lot from the argonian outlaw. Argonians are tougher than the other races with an innate boost to their base health pool, an incredible immune system that protects them from both poisons and disease, and the ability to breath under water which we could use despite not forming any gills of our own.

This was all on top of the incredible strength and durability the people of this world possessed. They could easily swing swords as much as nine times heavier than an earth based human, and could withstand multiple attacks from these weapons. Jar-Shak's natural stamina would always be a wonderful addition, and although we would be just a shit at magic as him, I couldn't care less.

"Holy shit you have a tail!" Jack yelled as she pointed at my girthy orange crocodilian tale topped in my flexible graphite plates.

The tail felt right, I'd always been so front heavy, every krogan is, and for the first time in my new life I felt balanced and agile. Despite the wonderful addition I couldn't peel my eyes away from my hands until I turned to my wife, looked her in the eyes, and gave her the double bird salute.

Jack responded immediately by copying my rude gesture, until she gasped in shock and squealed, "You have middle fingers!"

That's right, people. For the first time in over twelve years I had middle fingers.

I raised my middle fingers to the sky with tears in my eyes and shouted loud enough to scare the birds out of the trees, "I HAVE MIDDLE FINGERS!"

"Well stop lollygagging and put those new fingers to their proper use." my naked wife enticed.

With my long term disability overcome, I joyously complied to her request.

That night I pounced on the sleeping look out placed at the rotted away gate to Fort Neugrad. I wrapped one hand around his neck and used the other to punch his head until his skull collapsed, shockingly taking three whole punches despite my monstrous power. The people in this world are ridiculously tanky.

I took up the man's steel greatsword and gave it an experimental one handed swing. It was nothing special, but it pleased my inner geek to swing the Skyrim styled weapon. We only managed to kill two more people before a redguard spotted us and my swing to his middle failed to cleave the bastard in half. It was a fatal wound if left untreated, but once again the raw amount of punishment everything in this world can take was on full display.

I ran my sword through his exposed chest and moved on as the bandits all ran over to swarm us.

Jack had taken up a pair of axes and now ignited her blue biotic aura, taking the charge to the bandits with explosive results. She started hacking away at a man's neck while I leapt onto the back of a woman and ran my sword through the base of her skull.

Fortunately, critical hits are locationally based and not up to random chance, so we ended our targets and moved on.

The nord woman Jar-Shak occasionally slept with put up the most fight. Her steel plate armor made her so much tankier than any of her underlings. She defended her vulnerable areas adroitly and it was really our speed advantage that kept things from getting out of hand. Of course Jack could have just handled the problem with her biotics, but the feral grin on her face from the visceral combat was a beautiful sight to see.

I'd piled up the bodies and burned them before dawn. They had more than enough food supplies for me not to dip into eating manflesh. Though I'd be getting that Ring of Namira no doubt.

We spent a few days putting together our game plan and making us some comfortable clothes with the leather and hides Jar-Shak had kept these people flush in. I'd also taken all their weapons and armor and reworked it all using the small smelter and forge that had survived from the time this fort was an imperial stronghold.

Years of working with armor and weapons and engineers ensured that I didn't need much time to figure out how to work with the iron and steel of this universe. I started out with a pair of boot knives for us and then a pair of belt daggers, after that a hefty longsword and round shield for Jack and a similar scaled up shield and a pole axe for me. The wide flaring axe head was straight and sharp, with a sharpened underjaw for tearing down a dragon's wing leather. The hammer was thick and knobbed to create intense pressure points. I'd fixed what amounted to a steel dagger on the top and secured it all down the shaft by wrapping the top third in steel completely rather than using langets. I wrapped the rest of the oak shaft in leather and capped it with a piece of steel the size of Jack's fist.

I called her The Mule, and she was beautiful.

Dressed in the leather and fur outfits Jack made for us and strapped into our iron armor and adventurers backpacks we began the long trek to Whiterun and our goal of joining the Companions.


PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA
JManM JManM

This will be the last jump they wind up complete naked and broke from. A strategically placed treasure chest with their important shit in it will accompany them from now on as if Grunt has enough time to realize he left reality itself breathless and gaping he has enough time to reach out and snag his swag.

I hope everyone enjoyed the almost shonen-esque backstory for the outlaw they ate this time.

Onto the additions to Grunt, middle fingers is the thing I hinted at him missing his whole new life. The tail was another add I really wanted to do becuase I think the krogan are shaped for it but Bioware didn't want the hassle of animating them.

All the poeple in this version of Tamriel have the base 300 stat points found at the start of Skyrim, but have their own personal distrobution of those points. They can increase thier health, magicka, and stamina a maximum of 50% over their life through hard work. Jar-Shak had the absolute minium score of 10 form magicka, so even if he maxed his magicka he would only ever have 15 points vs the 285 points he would have in his stamina which would make him an idefatigueable fighter and lover.

Because of this Jack and Grunt will not be learning Skyrim magic. Not that it would help them after they leave the Skyrim Universe. The only items that will be able to retain thier enchantments upon the Jump will be the Deadric Artifacts.

If you want to support me and my family you can do so at

ko - fi . com / jmanm

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