Chapter 27

Long Live the King

Primarch Jorgal hurried through the stone hallways, his kraant surrounding him the entire way. While the Primarch was angry, he was also afraid that what he had feared was about to come to pass. Fortunately, he was prepared.

"They've breached the fortress!" Shouted a panicked voice in his earpiece. "Is the Primarch at the meeting ground?"

"Keep this channel clear." His lead bodyguard barked. "Someone could be listening!"

The stone hallways were filled with dust with each explosion. The Primarch coughed as they hurried onward, navigating the maze of corridors until they reached the meeting ground.

It was set in the center of the compound, directly beneath the opening in the dome. In ancient times, it was a burial ground; ancient krogan were laid to rest beneath dirt and stone. Because of this, it was considered a sacred place.

As they hurried to the center of the chamber, one of the Primarch's guards said, "We'll send a few guards through first, just in case-"

"I will go first." The Primarch said haughtily.

"Primarch, it is just a precaution. The enemy could-"

The primarch pulled the shotgun from another guard's surprised hands and blasted the offending krogan in the face. As the guard's body slumped to the ground, the Primarch looked to the other guards. Shock, horror, and even resentment filled the eyes of his retinue, but he cared little about their feelings; theirjob was to protect him, and they would do well to remember who it was who called the shots.

"I will go first." The Primarch said slowly. "Is that understood?"

In response, the guards moved away from the central platform. Primarch Jorgal moved swiftly forward, careful to keep an eye on his guards as he ascended the steps. He always suspected a traitor in his court; after the disaster with the stew, he was certain. It was unfortunate that the disrespectful chef was nowhere to be found; he would've enjoyed using the traitor to set an example.

Once he stood in the center of the platform, he stamped his foot three times against the stone. Immediately, the platform descended into the dirt, a metal disc sliding over the hole above him and blocking his guards from view. Only then did he lower the shotgun and let out a sigh of relief.

The platform led to a capsule big enough for one krogan of his size. He clambered into the pod, only to discover the door wouldn't close. The shotgun, a bulky Boarsis model, was too big to fit in the pod with him, even if he let it rest over his legs. The only way he could fit both it and him in the pod would be to remove his ceremonial headpiece, but he refused to part with that.

With a grunt, he tossed the rifle to the ground before climbing into the pod. As the door clicked shut, a holographic screen displaying a countdown timer appeared in front of Jorgal's eyes. He tensed as the timer counted down to three … two … one.

A jolt shook the pod as it launched, flying down a pre-set track Jorgal had ordered his engineers to construct beneath the city. He winced at every bump, wishing he had left a few of the engineers alive to punish for not understanding what he meant when he said 'a smooth ride'.

A sense of easy fell over him as the muffled explosions faded from his hearing. He had escaped; the assault on the fortress was definitely Wrex's doing, no doubt the former Primarch's attempt to dethrone Jorgal. After everything he had done, after all the tricks and ploys, and the assistance of his Councilor Ghales, he was not about to lose his throne to Urdnot.

Just thinking about the previous Primarch filled Jorgal's gut with hatred. Consorting with the lesser species was bad enough, but allowing the female krogan so many liberties while denying the krogan the empire they deserved was too much. He had waited, oh yes; for centuries, he had waited, moving his pieces into place and waiting for the opportunity to oust Wrex and take his place as the true leader of the krogan. Councilor Ghales and his costumed kooks had proven most useful on that count; the mere threat of Cerberus had sent Wrex running for the Council.

Cerberus. The idea made Jorgal laugh; everyone knew Cerberus had fallen with the Reapers, destroyed by that upstart Shepard. He still remembered the sight of the so-called hero, his body bandaged and broken while that fool Bont patched him back together, the human's quarian mate hanging on his arm like a hatchling grasping at its mother. This was the hero of whom Wrex thought so highly? It would've made him laugh had it not angered him so.

The pod slowed as it neared its destination. Anticipating freedom from both the pod and his fear, Jorgal waited until the pod came to a complete halt and the door opened, revealing a small room with another circular platform.

Once he was out of the pod, he pulled a grenade out of a small compartment in his armor. This was his secret weapon, his 'ace in the hole' as he once heard a human describe it. With a snort, he pressed the button and tossed it into the pod before sending it back to the domed fortress. The pod swiftly slid away; a few moments after it disappeared from sight, a slight tremor shook the ground. No one would be following him, he thought happily as he walked onto the platform and waited for it to rise.

When it did, it brought him to his throne room. The room was empty, though Jorgal expected this; at his earlier command, an alarm within the same complex had sounded, drawing all of the room's guards away from the chamber so he could activate his safe-room protocol. The guards could guard him just as well from outside while he waited for the trouble to pass.

As he sat down on his throne, he let out a sigh. The Kalros, now repaired, would reduce the fortress rubble while he waited. It would kill countless krogan, but he was certain it would take Wrex with it. The thought brought a smile to his face as he closed his eyes.

A slow clap made his eyes fly open. He sat up in his throne, demanding, "Who's there?"

"Forget me already, Jorgal?" A large shadow stepped out from the shadow of the locked doorway, his armor red, but not the red of the blood pack. No, this was an even deeper red, like that of blood coming from a critical wound. His scarred face was all too familiar.

"Wrex!" Jorgal whispered, fingers digging into the stone armrests as his fists clenches. "What trickery is this?"

"I don't need trickery to deal with you." Wrex retorted, stopping a few feet from the throne. "All I needed was the help of the 'lesser species' you keep spitting on. Isn't that right, Liara?"

Liara T'soni appeared with a small shimmer as her cloaking field deactivated. She stood at the back entrance of the throne, guarding the closed door with a geth plasma pistol. She didn't speak; her focus was solely on Jorgal.

Jorgal turned to the only remaining exit, only to find it blocked by Jan'Ce. He stared at the human-turian hybrid as she smiled back at him, showing her perfect white teeth.

"How?" Jorgal demanded, his eyes bugging out slightly. "How did you get past the blockade? How did you know I'd be here?"

"Y'know, it's kinda funny." Wrex said, strolling forward. "It's all thanks to someone named Finn."

"Finn?" Jorgal repeated. "But I didn't …"

"No, not you. Not Jorgal Finn, the whiny traditionalist who couldn't even bring himself to face me, who had to resort to stealing my title. No, it was a human named Finn Cresste."

"Cresste?" Jorgal repeated. Almost immediately, he had a mental image of Tuck's assistant. "Eggars?"

"It was easy to slip through the hole in the blockade, especially after he and his friends took out the Kalros." Wrex let out a loud laugh. "I'll be damned if I know how he managed that one, but I'm sure Liara will let me know."

"Of course." Liara said smoothly. "Anything to help a friend."

"But that was you!" Jorgal said, nearly shouting now. "You destroyed my blockade! You stopped the Kalros."

"Shut up, you slimy little pyjak." Wrex spat. "I wasn't even in the sector at the time. Fortunately, Liara found out about it and got me back into my space before those morons you posted at the border could regroup."

The asari woman was staring at Jorgal now, her eyes not on his face, but slightly above. Her brow furrowed, as though what she saw struck her as slightly off.

Jorgal's breathing was heavy now as he fought to find a way out. "You attacked the Grast Meeting Ground!"

"No idea what's going on over there." Wrex said, waving a hand as though to dismiss it. "I'll deal with it once I've dealt with you. I gotta say, though, I owe whoever it was my thanks; we were figuring we'd have to do somethin' to get you to run and hide here. Who says life ain't fair, eh"

Jorgal was finding it hard to concentrate; the turian mutant was now staring above him in the same manner as the asari, a disbelieving smile on her lips. What were they looking at?

As Wrex took another step toward him, Jorgal demanded, "How did you know I'd be here? I kept it secret! I killed the people who built it just to be sure!"

"Not all of them." Wrex shook his head, his expression almost sorrowful. "Slaughtering your own, just so you could stay in power for a few more minutes. Well, I hope it was worth it."

"Wait!" Jorgal said, trying to back through his throne, "I still wear the headpiece! I am the leader of the krogan, and you must obey me! The Blood of the Krogan demands it!"

Shaking his head, Wrex took another step forward.

Jorgal pulled his knife from his belt and took a wild swing at Wrex, only for Wrex to catch his arm and bring his elbow down on it with a sickening crack.

Wailing in pain, Jorgal tried to swing his other arm, only to find it pinned into place against the armrest by Wrex's massive foot. He whimpered as Wrex pulled out his shotgun and took aim. With one shot, Jorgal knew no more.

Liara and Jan'Ce approached Wrex as he knelt beside the corpse of the usurper.

"Was it necessary to kill him?" Liara asked, eyeing the body with obvious distaste.

"'Fraid so. At least it'll shut up the traditionalists. Can't get more traditional than that." Wrex frowned as he noticed the same thing that had caught the attention of Liara and Jan'Ce earlier. He reached down and pulled the ceremonial headpiece from the dead krogan and stared at the Blood of the Krogan … or at least what was supposed to be the blood of the krogan. With a little effort, he pulled out the object; it was a black ball completely covered with red paint save for a slight indention on one side. The number eight could just be made out beneath the red paint on the opposite side.

Liara chuckled. "I remember seeing Shepard with one of these. Some kind of novelty toy he bought Tali from a junk shop on Omega. Not sure why someone painted this one red, though."

"It's a magic eight ball." Jan'Ce said, nodding. "You shake it and it supposedly answers questions about the future."

"No kidding." Wrex said, sounding amused. He looked down at Jorgal's dead body, "Shame he didn't use it himself. He might have had some chance of success."

He tossed the ball in the air and caught it easily. The dice within the ball floated up to the indentation, the tiny letters spelling the words, "Very Doubtful."