Post by Urdnot Thrak on Mar 13, 2017 10:57:46 GMT -6
He laughed a deep laugh. Thrak could barely feel his face anymore. They had drank so much ryncol. He was leaning against a piece of rubble, while Wrex was slumped so far back in his throne that is tail was hanging over the seat. The rest of Wrex's krantt were already passed out, but that did not surprise Thrak. He and his battlemaster always were the ones with the greatest tolerance among their people.
It's finally over, he thought. Not the battle to secure Wrex's place as Clan Chief; that had gone easily enough. When they arrived, the prior chief has called his people to action, but in the face of the returned Wrex and his near-legendary krantt, no one would stand with the man except his personal guard. Things had gone orderly enough. They took separate tomkah to the grounds for The Rite of Passage, and the battle had been swift but brutal. None of Wrex's men had fallen.
Then again, that was partially due to the battlemaster's unorthodox strategy. Rather than wipe out his foe's defenses and then take the glory of slaying his rival himself, Wrex had engineered it so that all of his men made a dead rush for the prior clan leader. The man fell quickly, and Wrex offered the rest his predecessor's men the opportunity to live on and serve their clan. They all went to a knee without protest.
No, what was over was a long exile from Tuchanka. From his home. That and the illusion that there was more to his life than the falling rubble of a ruined world. A world the krogan had ruined themselves.
"Why now?" Thrak was surprised to hear his voice say. "Why come back now?"
"It felt like time," Wrex said, his voice sounding far and away, almost asleep.
"Pyjak dung!" Thrak said. Pushing himself up a bit (after several tries and great effort), he looked straight... straight-ish... at his battlemaster. "There's more to it."
Wrex's head lolled to the side, before he shook himself awake a bit and fixed two steely eyes on his old friend. "I saw a lot of the galaxy. Not much gave me hope. Then I met this Spectre..." Wrex laughed loud enough that it echoed through the ruins of the throne room. "Damned human had a quad on him! By the Ancients, he might have been a damned quint!
"The things I saw him do... The things I did with him... Anything was possible after that..."
"That's not all," Thrak insisted, knowing Wrex better.
The other krogan got a sly grin. Pushing himself up sloppily, he wound up sitting on the floor instead, one arm draped over the armrest of the great seat of Urdnot's power. In a conspiratorial whisper that anyone within twenty yards could have heard, he said, "All that shit on the extranet about those Reapers? Most of it is true. I was there! Saw it myself! The galaxy will need the krogan again! Need us to save their sorry asses! When that time comes, we need to be one people, so we can take advantage of the opportunity..."
"How? There aren't enough of us to wage a war!" Thrak said, his head clearing somewhat at the rush of what his Clan Chief had said.
"There can be. There are ways to cure the genophage!"
"You're a dreamer, Wrex," Thrak waved off, flopping back flat to the floor.
"I've seen it done."
Thrak's eyes opened wide, and he pushed himself to all fours, crawling towards Wrex. "Really? You found a cure?"
"Yeah, for about an hour before we nuked the damned place," the other man laughed.
Thrak almost went for his hammer and ended the other krogan right there. He had as much as admitted to being the end of the krogan race.
"They weren't real krogan. They were slaves. That's not our destiny. We need to be our own masters, and we need to master ourselves. But when the time comes, we'll demand our people's future back, and they'll have no choice but to give it to us."
"That's why you're wanting us to focus on breeding," Thrak mused. "So there are enough of us when the time comes that they will be willing to give in to our demands to have our aid."
Wrex nodded sloppily. "That's between us. Everyone else will think I'm crazy."
"You are crazy," Thrak sighed, falling back to the ground.
"Maybe," Wrex said with a shrug, before pulling himself up into the throne. "But it's our best chance either way."
Thrak nodded. That was true enough. If their people did not focus on increasing their numbers, extinction was inevitable.
His eyes were heavy. Sleep would be coming soon. But there was one other thing he needed to know.
"Tell me about the Reapers. How do you kill them?"
It's finally over, he thought. Not the battle to secure Wrex's place as Clan Chief; that had gone easily enough. When they arrived, the prior chief has called his people to action, but in the face of the returned Wrex and his near-legendary krantt, no one would stand with the man except his personal guard. Things had gone orderly enough. They took separate tomkah to the grounds for The Rite of Passage, and the battle had been swift but brutal. None of Wrex's men had fallen.
Then again, that was partially due to the battlemaster's unorthodox strategy. Rather than wipe out his foe's defenses and then take the glory of slaying his rival himself, Wrex had engineered it so that all of his men made a dead rush for the prior clan leader. The man fell quickly, and Wrex offered the rest his predecessor's men the opportunity to live on and serve their clan. They all went to a knee without protest.
No, what was over was a long exile from Tuchanka. From his home. That and the illusion that there was more to his life than the falling rubble of a ruined world. A world the krogan had ruined themselves.
"Why now?" Thrak was surprised to hear his voice say. "Why come back now?"
"It felt like time," Wrex said, his voice sounding far and away, almost asleep.
"Pyjak dung!" Thrak said. Pushing himself up a bit (after several tries and great effort), he looked straight... straight-ish... at his battlemaster. "There's more to it."
Wrex's head lolled to the side, before he shook himself awake a bit and fixed two steely eyes on his old friend. "I saw a lot of the galaxy. Not much gave me hope. Then I met this Spectre..." Wrex laughed loud enough that it echoed through the ruins of the throne room. "Damned human had a quad on him! By the Ancients, he might have been a damned quint!
"The things I saw him do... The things I did with him... Anything was possible after that..."
"That's not all," Thrak insisted, knowing Wrex better.
The other krogan got a sly grin. Pushing himself up sloppily, he wound up sitting on the floor instead, one arm draped over the armrest of the great seat of Urdnot's power. In a conspiratorial whisper that anyone within twenty yards could have heard, he said, "All that shit on the extranet about those Reapers? Most of it is true. I was there! Saw it myself! The galaxy will need the krogan again! Need us to save their sorry asses! When that time comes, we need to be one people, so we can take advantage of the opportunity..."
"How? There aren't enough of us to wage a war!" Thrak said, his head clearing somewhat at the rush of what his Clan Chief had said.
"There can be. There are ways to cure the genophage!"
"You're a dreamer, Wrex," Thrak waved off, flopping back flat to the floor.
"I've seen it done."
Thrak's eyes opened wide, and he pushed himself to all fours, crawling towards Wrex. "Really? You found a cure?"
"Yeah, for about an hour before we nuked the damned place," the other man laughed.
Thrak almost went for his hammer and ended the other krogan right there. He had as much as admitted to being the end of the krogan race.
"They weren't real krogan. They were slaves. That's not our destiny. We need to be our own masters, and we need to master ourselves. But when the time comes, we'll demand our people's future back, and they'll have no choice but to give it to us."
"That's why you're wanting us to focus on breeding," Thrak mused. "So there are enough of us when the time comes that they will be willing to give in to our demands to have our aid."
Wrex nodded sloppily. "That's between us. Everyone else will think I'm crazy."
"You are crazy," Thrak sighed, falling back to the ground.
"Maybe," Wrex said with a shrug, before pulling himself up into the throne. "But it's our best chance either way."
Thrak nodded. That was true enough. If their people did not focus on increasing their numbers, extinction was inevitable.
His eyes were heavy. Sleep would be coming soon. But there was one other thing he needed to know.
"Tell me about the Reapers. How do you kill them?"