Grunt walked with long, purposeful strides towards the Urdnot clan chambers. Since his first journey to Tuchanka for his Rite of Passage, there had been much rebuilding. What used to be a pile of rock and burning rubble was now a halfway-respectable building, complete with doors and walls.

He brusquely shoved a pair of fighting people out of the way, heading toward the door on the far side of the tunnel. He was met by two guards.

"Name?"

"Urdnot Grunt," he snarled. "Get out of my way."

"O… of course," the krogan stammered. His partner rolled his eyes.

"Sorry about this idiot pyjak, he's new. You can go ahead in, the Chief is waiting for you." He opened the door for Grunt, who nodded in acknowledgement and strode in.

In front of him, Urdnot Wrex was sitting in a blocky and uncomfortable-looking throne hewn of stone. He was conversing in hushed tones with a female, and they both turned to Grunt as he walked in.

"Wrex. Bakara." Grunt nodded sharply.

"Urdnot Grunt. It is good to see you," Bakara said, nodding to him before turning back to Wrex. "I'm sure you two have much to discuss. I'll take my leave for now." She turned and passed Grunt on her way out, staring deep into his eyes.

"Come here, you little pyjak," Wrex said, grinning, as he stood from his throne. He clasped Grunt's hand firmly and clapped him on the shoulders.

"How've you been?"

"Bored," Grunt said. "Not much for Aralakh Company to do these days without Reapers to fight. You wanted to talk about something?"

Wrex turned and faced his throne, staring at the monument behind it. A Salarian with a missing horn was carved into the stone wall.

"There was a lot of resistance when I commissioned this particular carving," Wrex said. "For obvious reasons. But if we're to move past old conflicts and build toward a new, brighter future, we need to begin by remembering those who made it possible, regardless of species."

Grunt stood next to Wrex and looked up at the monument with him. "Is there a point to all this?"

Wrex turned to Grunt. "The Council has extended an offer to us. To join the Council."

Grunt stared at him. "What?"

"I can hardly believe it myself. Seems just yesterday they were content to let us die instead of curing the genophage so we could remind them how to fight."

"But what does this all have to do with me?"

Wrex placed a hand on Grunts shoulder. "Bakara and I have come to a decision. I am going to join the Council."

Grunts eyes widened as everything clicked. "Then you…"

"I want you to be the new leader of Clan Urdnot."

"Uhh…"

"Listen to me, Grunt. You're the perfect krogan. Literally. You are what I want the future of our species to be."

"I can't… I'm a soldier, Wrex, not a politician!"

"You're a leader, Grunt, and a damn good one at that. You're the leader of Aralakh Company, for crying out loud. Not just anybody can have such a position. Look around you, Grunt. The galaxy is changing. We're not in need of soldiers right now. We need leaders. Leaders like you, to usher in the future. A future for the krogan."

Grunt scratched his head. "Well, when you put it like that…"

"I trust you, Grunt. And Bakara will still be here to support you. I wouldn't do this if I wasn't absolutely certain that you were the best choice."

"Sounds like your mind's made up." Grunt chuckled. "And we all know how stubborn you are, old man."

Wrex clapped Grunt's shoulder mightily. "That's more like it. The ceremony will be held tomorrow. Wear your big boy armor."

"It's just as well. You're getting a bit soft around the edges anyway. Better you get some cushy room on the Citadel, wouldn't want you to break a nail."

Wrex put an arm around Grunt's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Urdnot Grunt."

"Yeah yeah yeah."