The Wreck of the Normandy – Prologue
Grunt looked down at the broken and torn body of Urdnot Wrex, "you're shittin me".
"I wish I was kid", Wrex replied coughing up blood. "And I wish I'd told you and the rest of the crew earlier. But I didn't. Too old and too stupid. And now those Cerberus wannabe pukes know as well."
"Not that old man. I mean your shitting me you lost a fight in a bar". Around them the shattered remains of the Volus taphouse groaned. Structural integrity well and truly compromised.
If a Krogan with one eye swollen shut could squint, Wrex squinted. "See those guys in the corner, are they still breathing?"
Grunt turned his head to take in a pile of bodies. Four humans in heavy combat armour and assault weapons. "Nope."
"Then I didn't lose did I?"
"Bad stacking job though. The second one is barely touching the other three."
"I appreciate the joke kid, but I think I could be done for this time. End of the road for old Urdnot."
Grunt leaned over to inspect Wrex closer. The damage was extensive. A new crack lined his crest. Multiple flash burns and what could be a piece of bone poking out from his leg.
"Hmm, looks bad", Grunt mused. "Better get you some medicine"
Straightening slightly he turned his hand to a balled fist and launched it with full force into a freshly opened wound on Wrex's shoulder.
The older Krogan howled in pain. An almighty roar that blew out the remaining windows of the taphouse. Wrex's good shoulder flexed, the flailing forearm catching Grunt squarely across the mid-section. The power in the blow was immense, lifting Grunt cleanly into the air and throwing him across the room.
He can down hard, further destroying already brutalised furniture. Sharp edges wormed their way into the joints of his armour, pinching and biting. Grunt lifted his head, dazzed and grinned.
"He he, medicine's working."
"I'll kill you for that tank bred!", Wrex bellowed.
"Yeah, well", Grunt struggled to his feet. "You'll have to get up to do it".
Groaning and straining, Wrex pulled himself upright. His massive bulk propped up against the bar. Bone now clearly protruding from his right leg.
"Ahh kid, I will kill you. But you need to take care of this for me first. Cerberus will already be hunting and you move faster than me even when my legs work."
"Any idea where I should start", Grunt asked.
"Find Joker. He'll be able to show you the way. Space was all screwed up back then, but that boy will forget to breathe, before he forgets his way across the stars."
"Joker, right."
"And find whatever hole that love sick Vakarian crawled into to die. This is as much his mess as it is mine."
"Vakarian, right."
And don't trust anyone. You know what's at stake here. It's too much to risk".
"Trust no one, right." Grunts left knee gave just enough to take his head safely out of the path of the hurled bottle. "Well at least your aim's improving."
"I'll be aiming my foot at your backside as soon as it's patched up. But you gotta go now".
"See that you do that old man", Grunt turned and headed towards the door.
"Kid!" Wrex called out, his breath failing. "You gotta make this right, for me and Garrus, for all of us". Grunt stared, his eyes hard, determined.
"Find her kid. Find the Normandy."
[End prologue]