CHAPTER 22: Have a Drink on Me
2185 CE
We headed up the stairs only to run into a familiar face. To me, not to Shepard.
'Turn back, human-- Wait. Warlord Krell?' My clan's ambassador, Nakmor Veng, recognized me.
'Veng. You don't want to mess with Shepard. She's killed armies. I was there helping her.' I warned.
'You are Warlord Krell's krantt? I hope you understand the respect that's due to you.' Nakmor Veng responded.
'She'll headbutt anyone who disrespects her.' I admitted.
'Good.' Veng replied.
'You're an ambassador?' Shepard asked, skeptically.
'You're thinking of Udina, aren't you?' I laughed.
My eyes narrowed. 'Don't. Krogan ambassadors need to serve as an example to other clans about the strength of our clan. They also need to be able to go deep into enemy territory unsupported except by their krantt. And to be able to make it out if diplomacy... breaks down. A Krogan ambassador is their clan's strongest warrior.' I explained.
'Huh. I guess I never realized that Krell had a clan.' Shepard admitted.
'So you haven't read that book on Krogan manners I wrote. I was wondering.' I laughed.
'I keep meaning to! I just got distracted." Shepard protested.
Veng snorted. 'Don't imply a Krogan is clanless unless you want to be shot, Shepard. Clan Nakmor's a small clan based in the Kraddack Wastes, but we're still not a clan you want to anger.' Morda's ambassador explained.
'If Nakmor is a small clan, how do you keep the more powerful clans from destroying you?' Shepard asked, as if the answer weren't standing right next to him.
'We are the clan of the great Warlord Nakmor Krell, who fights beside you. Most clans lend us the respect our ancestor is due.' Veng joked.
'I'm not dead yet, you punk.' I replied.
'For all other enemies we follow Warlord Krell's first rule of diplomacy.' Veng continued, unphased.
'Nakmor humor inherited. Genetic? Or sociological?' Mordin wondered aloud.
'What's Krell's first rule of diplomacy?' Shepard asked Veng, instead of the presumable expert in the matter; Krell, which is me. I'm the expert.
'The great Warlord Nakmor Krell's first rule of diplomacy is that for any given diplomatic problem there exists a gun capable of solving that problem.' Veng bragged.
Shepard looked at me in shock.
'I was very very drunk at the time.' I defended.
Shepard looked at me skeptically.
'It was supposed to have been rule 57.' I admitted.
'I should go.' Shepard decided.
Clearly the thought of an entire clan with my sense of humor had intimidated her out of her ability to speak intelligibly.
Really she had nothing to fear. It was 30% at most, and most of that was due to natural selection. People who can take a joke tend not to challenge me to duels to the death.
In other words, they tend to survive.
2185 CE
The visit to the Shaman was filled with typical Gatatog bullshit.
'You go beyond yourself, Gatatog Uvenk! The Rites of Urdnot are dominant!' The Shaman insisted.
'How do we know that it will challenge him? He's unnatural! The beasts of the Rite could ignore him like a lump of plastic!' The Gatatog Ambassador spewed his bullshit.
'They know blood, no matter the womb. Your barking does not help your case.' The Shaman saw through his bullshit.
'I'll speak for myself!' Grunt insisted, perhaps annoyed at how locked out of the conversation he'd been so far. If so he'd learned the right lesson. A Krogan can't be passive listener, a Krogan had to enforce his presence in a conversation.
'This is the tank-bred? It is very lifelike. Smells correct as well. Your protests ring hollow, Uvenk.' The Shaman decided.
'Urdnot Wrex has given permission to seek clan status for Grunt.' Shepard explained, demonstrating undeniably that she had not even looked at the manners book I'd left for her.
'Permission. Hmph. That is good enough, if lacking in spirit.' The Shaman decided.
'If this must stand on ritual, then I invoke a denial! My krantt stands against him! He has no one!' Uvenk spewed.
'My patience is tested, but Uvenk invokes correctly. Grunt, who is your krantt? Your allies willing to kill and die on your behalf?' The shaman asked.
'How is a candidate tested if he brings backup on his Rite of Passage?' Shepard asked.
'You haven't seen what they expect him to fight.' I snark.
'Not every Krogan can be the strongest warrior, but each must inspire his peers to battle at his side. If the ones who know you best can find nothing worthy in you, you should wander the wastes and die alone before you weaken my clan.' The Shaman half-explained, half-proclaimed.
'Each clan has a different Rite of Passage. Clan Urdnot is known for their tacticians and strategists. Their Rite is a good part of the reason why.'
'What's your Rite, Krell?' Shepard asked.
'Not revealed to outsiders. At least not by me. I'm not a Shaman. I can't explain the rite.'
I wasn't lying, not really. Clan Nakmor's version of the Rite in and of itself wasn't that complicated. Prospective Krogan were given a day in an arena, alone. The arena is filled with junk. More than enough time to either build defenses, traps, or a weapon. At dawn of the next day? A Harvester visits the Arena, drawn by the presence of live bait. The applicant must either survive the Harvester's attack until it leaves, or kill the Harvester. And of course any Klixen it brings with it. Ours was a rite designed to foster thinkers and problem solvers. Engineers, in other words. Architects too. I'd put a lot of thought into the rite when I'd introduced it. And neither Nakmor Qronak, who'd deposed me, nor Nakmor Morda, who'd deposed him, had found any fault with my decision since.
One of the few things I hadn't screwed up during my two hundred plus years leading the clan. We never should have fought in the Rebellions. Of course, it's easy to say that now. Back then? None of us really had a choice.
'We stand with Grunt as shipmates and comrades.' Shepard decided.
'Shipmates are not the same thing, but I grant you aliens your simple interpretation.' The Shaman decided.
'Aliens don't know Strength! My followers are true Krogan. Everything about Grunt is a lie.' Uvenk spewed.
I headbutted him.
Grunt smiled.
'I tire of the useless drivel that gushes from your mouth, Uvenk. I am part of Grunt's Krantt. You know what that means, don't you?' I threaten.
'Shaman, you cannot decide in his favor! What about Krogan tradition if you pollute the right?' Uvenk spewed.
'You... you dare! I was a warrior before your mother was born! I speak with the authority of centuries. I decide who is worthy. That is the end of it.' The Shaman decided.
'I have other means to oppose this.' Uvenk muttered.
'Oppose as much as you want. Your words are nothing but hot air.' Grunt retorted.
Was that a pun? What was Joker teaching the kid?
Still, I grinned in response.
'You have provoked them. Reason enough for me to like you. They're your problem now.' The Shaman declared.
'We've waited long enough. Tell us how this works.' Shepard demanded.
'Still your impatience, Shepard. For now, know that Grunt will be tested... and that you must adapt.' The shaman replied.
'Do we need any special equipment?' Shepard inquired.
'To begin the Rite, only the candidate and his krantt are required. You love battle, don't you Shepard? The last gasp of a dying opponent? Bring your love of the fight to Grunt's trial, and he will succeed.' The Shaman explained.
'In case the subtext escapes you Shepard, that means come armed.' I explained.
'Is that Krogan going to be a problem?' Shepard asked, pointing to the stairs that Uvenk had vanished down.
'He is forbidden to interfere. Will he? During the Rite of Passage, you must be ready for anything, Shepard. From what you've shown me, you will not disappoint.' The Shaman replied.
'If he tries to fight us, he'll die.' I add.
'We're ready, let's do this.' Shepard decided.
'Excellent.' The Shaman grinned.
'When you say armed, am I allowed to bring a space ship?' Grunt asked.
The Shaman looked at Grunt. 'There is no specific rule against it, but it is not as impressive as defeating all your foes on foot. The topic has not come up. I will need to discuss this with the clan leader for future Rites.'
'What about this Rite?' Grunt asked.
'Bringing Warlord Nakmor Krell, and the human battlemaster Wrex served under, and a space ship might be overkill. The first two have precedent. They are after all your Krantt. This not only has precedent but also prestige. The ship, less so. Leave it in the dock.' The Shaman decided.
I thought back to the dim memories of the Urdnot version of the Rite. There wasn't anything bigger than a Thresher Maw, was there?
'There's nothing in the rite that we are not capable of slaying with our bare hands. I don't think we need the ship, our weapons are more than enough.' I finally decided after careful consideration.
Grunt nodded, following my lead despite his clear desire to use a targeting laser.
Well, he'd get over it. Maybe if we're really lucky he'll get to suplex a young Thresher maw!
2185 CE
The maw hunt was actually rather uneventful. It was dressed up in fancy mystical clothing, but fundamentally, Urdnot's Rite was still 'lure in creatures to attack us and maybe we'll be lucky enough to win a death match with a Thresher Maw.'
We did win that match, incidentally. Grunt was the most recent Krogan to kill a Maw in the Rite since Wrex himself. Good omen, that. I had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, Grunt killed a failrly large maw, as such things go. On the other and, the Maw was too large for me to pass on the ancient Krogan knowledge of Thresher Maw suplexing that I invented one night 500 years ago while drunk.
So yeah, mixed feelings. Hopefully we'll run into another opportunity at some point.
Of course the real reward was Gatatog Uvenk giving me permission to shoot off his crest by interfering in the Rite.
Uvenk made the mistake of bringing words to a klixen fight. Which is to say, that Uvenk opened his mouth and I threw a Klixen at his face.
That was the last mistake Uvenk would ever make. Also the last mistake his Krantt would ever make. There were plenty of Klixen around, actually. It was a fun challenge to not resort to using my NK-47. I did have to take out my sniper rifle for the Thresher Maw though. It scared off all the Klixen with its mere presence.
I had left dealing with the aftermath of that mess to Urdnot Wrex and the newly claimed Urdnot Grunt; so far that decision has not let me down.
Grunt had what was basically a welcome to the Clan party after that. He was then officially sent to learn from the Urdnot Clan's newest Battlemaster, Commander Shepard. A title that took Shepard by surprise.
She really should have read that book on Krogan manners I gave her. Would have been a lot more likely to realize she was being adopted too.
Mordin realized, I think. I think he understands the gravitas of that too, even if it was kept extremely quiet by every Krogan involved in that. Wrex is playing the long game, I think. I'm not sure how much he suspects, but given my request to get the Genophage data, and the fact that Mordin's still alive even after everything Wrex knows I know about the guy, I'm pretty sure Wrex at the very least suspects what's coming.
I think he wants the ability to claim that Clan Urdnot cured the Genophage.
I of course already have a clan and thus avoided any sort of adoption as a consequence.
There are enough of Clan Nakmor staying in the Milky Way that, assuming I don't get them killed fighting the Reapers, I'll have my hands full running things. Wrex and I got along pretty well with each other, so I wouldn't have to deal with all that much political bullshit either.
On the plus side, because of the Rite I instituted, Clan Nakmor have some of the best Krogan architects. That, and the clan's traditional territory should make my University of Tuchanka idea achievable.
On the minus side, we also had some of the only Krogan architects. And I'd need teachers for my school as well. If Mordin survived the next year, he'd be on my short list. Wrex beat me to the idea of adopting him, which will mean that Wrex will end up involved in any sort of negotiation regarding that down the line. Annoying, but I can't just ignore him and maintain a good working relationship.
Of course, that will be a conversation to have later. Wrex has more pressing things to woryy about than future staffing at a university that doesn't yet exist.
'Krell.' Wrex greeted.
'Wrex.' I acknowledged.
'The bomb's on Tuchanka.' He broke the ice.
'It sure is. Turians left it during the rebellions.' I agreed.
'And you didn't do anything about it?' Wrex asked.
'I'm doing something now, aren't I? It's set to become a problem when the Reapers invade; Cerberus unearths it. The new Primach's son dies disabling it.' I explain.
'Cerberus, huh? Same Cerberus you're running with now?' Wrex raised his eyebrow.
'Turns out they're bad guys. Who knew?' I shrug with a shit-eating grin.
Wrex laughs.
'Shepard wins over the crew and they all defect after we kill the Collectors. Or at least most of the damn bugs, anyway.' I explain.
'Sounds like her.' Wrex admitted.
We stared out into the Tuchankan sunset. I've yet to find a more beautiful sunset in the entire Galaxy. It's the atmosphere. Just enough to refract the light, just damaged enough to reveal its true beauty.
'Does Shepard know what she's getting into with this Maelon thing?' Wrex eventually asked me, uncharacteristically serious.
'She doesn't. And I can't tell her. It would give the game away with none of the emotional feedback. Mordin needs to realize he made a mistake, and he is a very stubborn Salarian.'
Wrex nodded.
'Did you get the data?' I asked in return.
'Sent my agent the bug out signal as soon as I saw you land. I know how Shepard works.' Wrex teased.
'Data that's one or two days out of date should be fine.' I agreed.
'What's so important about this mission?' Wrex asked, fishing for what I knew that he didn't.
'How private are we? I can't let this information get out.'
Wrex nodded. 'Let's take a walk. We'll go somewhere no one ever goes.'
I agreed and a half an hour later we were on top of a more thoroughly blasted and out of the way pile of rubble than usual.
'So, the mission?' Wrex asked.
'You probably already know the data is on fixing the Genophage. What you don't know is that if all goes well, the Genophage will be fixed within the year.' I announced.
'How?' Wrex asked. I could hear the barely restrained hope in his voice.
'The Salarian. Mordin Solus. He was part of a team that landed on Tuchanka a while back to 'fix' the Genophage. We were evolving past it. It's why I'm not too worried about my Clan headed off for Andromeda.' I explained.
Wrex nodded. To condemn my clan to the Genophage otherwise, knowing what I knew? It would be unthinkable.
'Why's he important?' Wrex asked.
'The Salarians used the Shroud to distribute the Genophage. The bombs were just to cover up the vector. They sabotaged it on the way out. They introduced subtle issues with temperature to make the cure too hot to actually work. Mordin is familiar with the systems and the sabotage. He knows how to fix it.'
'Any damned Salarian might know enough, and might say the right things, but that doesn't make them trustworthy. Why's this one different?'
I nodded in understanding of his real question. How did I know it would work?
'After leaving STG, Mordin started up a free clinic on Omega.' I revealed
'Well, that's a phrase I never thought I'd hear. What kind of madman thinks that's a good idea? Someone with a death wish?' Wrex inquired.
'Someone who feels the need to atone, but doesn't feel they can.' I admitted, before continuing on.
'Mordin is in the unique position of having both worked on the Genophage and regretting what he's done. You asked why this mission is important? It crystallizes that realization. It makes him decide to cure the Genophage.'
'Him?' Wrex asked, surprised. I'm not sure why. He clearly expected something like this.
'Pretty much by himself. All he needs to make everything right is Maelon's data, knowledge of the sabotage, and your survival. But here's the tricky bit; until his realization, he might as well be a spy. The knowledge that he'll cure the Genophage would horrify him. And until the political will to cure the Genophage exists, the knowledge that he's gonna be the guy that ends it? That's gonna put a giant target on his back.' I explained.
'My survival, huh? Sounds complicated. That why you're on the Normandy?' Wrex asked.
'Heh. Mordin has a catch phrase: 'It had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong.' That just about sums up my position here.' I joked.
'Fights must be amazing.' Wrex grinned.
'They sure are. Why, earlier today I got to kill a Thresher Maw.' I joked.
'You don't say?' Wrex agreed.
'The Collectors have some crazy shit. Hoping we wipe the things out but they've got something called a fucking Praetorian. It's a giant floating armored bug tank mech with laser eyes. You have to strip away its barriers and then burn through its armor to kill it. We fought on on this empty Human colony, Horizon. Like fighting your way single handedly through a city only everyone else but you and your Krantt are part of an angry mob out to destroy you. It was great!' I gushed.
It was terrible being around Humans. They almost got how fun fighting was. They almost understood it on a really deep level! But there was this invisible line with each of them and past that suddenly it was too far and you were being weird. And the line was different for each Human! It was worse than Asari because at least with them you knew to not bring up fighting until they did first. With Humans there wasn't any clear line.
Wrex though? Wrex got it.
'That sounds amazing! You know where I've wanted to fight since I've known you?'
'The CIC of the Normandy?' I guessed. It looked so fun to rampage through. Two different paths, lots of junk in the way, and barriers that looked like they might be safe for your enemies but which definitely wouldn't hold back a rampaging Krogan.
'You too?' Wrex asked.
I nodded. 'Yeah. Me too. Shepard's missing the one this year when the collectors invade. Joker wins the fucking fight by unshackling the ship's AI.'
'So you're telling me that the great Human Warlord Joker got into a firefight on foot and he still used his space ship to win it?' Wrex laughed, finding the whole idea hilarious.
'That's exactly what I'm telling you.' I agreed.
'You said 'this year' though..' Wrex observed.
'Caught that did you? Two very lucky members of the Normandy crew are not only gonna get to have a fire fight in the CIC... They also get to fight Shepard's evil clone, her minion, and her army of mercs in the cargo bay.' I admitted.
'You're joking.' Wrex immediately replied.
'I'm not.'
'We need it. None of those aliens will ever appreciate that opportunity the way we do.' Wrex immediately decided.
'Agreed. I'll figure out a way to convince Shepard. Maybe I'll gamble a favor off her?' I asked.
'I've seen you at cards. You're a terrible gambler.'
'Yeah, but Shepard's worse.' I argued.
'I have a better idea. How about I win that favor off her?' Wrex proposed.
'That is a better idea.' I admitted.
The trip back to the Clan Urdnot spaceport went pretty quickly after that. I told Wrex how I got Kaidan back onto the Normandy. Wrex found my joke hilarious. Especially after I told him all the aspects that Kaidan hadn't uncovered yet.
After that? Well, it took a few rounds, but Wrex finally won that favor off Shepard.
'Don't worry, Shepard. I know exactly what I want. One day, you're gonna get into the perfect firefight. And on that day, you're gonna take Krell and me with you. No one else is gonna appreciate the opportunity like we do.'
Shepard looked to me for confirmation.
'It's everything I've ever wanted for Christmas and my Birthday all in one, Shepard.' I agreed.
'Krell, Christmas is your birthday.' Shepard replied.
'So then I know the feeling pretty well, don't I?' I agreed.
Shepard laughed and I grabbed another container of Ryncol.
It really was a great party.
I wonder where Grunt got off to?
2185 CE
The next day began with Shepard asking questions of things man was not meant to know.
'So, just so I'm sure of the order of events, can we go through this one more time?' Shepard prodded.
'No. We've already gone through this twice, Shepard. Nothing is going to make this make sense.' I replied.
'Right, let's forget about the other things. I just want to know why the Normandy is in space.' Shepard decided.
'I told you, they left to pick up Grunt.' I explained for the third time.
'Who was in space.' Shepard confirmed.
'That is where they picked him up yes, but he was still on the ground when they left.' I clarified.
'How did Grunt get to space then, though?' Shepard asked, clearly confused.
'He rode the elevator.' I explained. Grunt had been drunk, and in his defense, he made sure to wear a pressurized space suit before launching himself into low Tuchanka orbit. Also, he'd won the bet, so there was that too.
'Space is very far away Krell. No elevator goes that fast. He'd never get there in time.' Shepard countered.
'No, this is a special kind of elevator I invented just to go to space quickly.' I explained. I mean, technically that wasn't a lie, right?
'Why doesn't the citadel use it?' Shepard wondered.
There was an opportunity here, and no matter whether I took advantage of it or not I'd always regret not taking the road not taken. It was almost certainly wrong to allow Shepard to believe that my space elevator was just a really fast elevator. On the other hand, Shepard was known for her occasional lobbying to the Citadel Council for faster elevators...
'The Salarians don't want to admit I'm smarter than they are.' I confess. It was even true! But... it was also completely irrelevant to Shepard's question.
'Right, so Grunt took your elevator to space-'
'My space elevator, yes.' I corrected.
'And met the Normandy in orbit.' Shepard continued as if uninterrupted.
'Exactly.' I nodded.
'To win a bet.' Shepard stated, a bit judgmentally.
'To achieve his dream, really.' I corrected.
'To win a bet. That's why Grunt launched himself into space without a space suit-'
'He had a space suit.' I corrected.
'That's why Grunt launched himself into space with nothing but his space suit-'
'He also brought his shotgun.' I corrected.
'Why did he bring his shotgun, Krell?' Shepard asked.
'For protection.' I explained.
'Krell, that doesn't explain anything. What did he need the shotgun for? What was he protecting himself against?' Shepard pointed out using the darkest and most forbidden arts of logic.
'Sexually transmitted diseases.' I answered.
'Krell.' Shepard replied.
'Shepard.' I nodded.
'Krell.' Shepard sounded irritated.
'Shepard.' I played innocent.
'Krell!' Shepard yelled.
'Shepard!.' I joyfully yelled back.
'Krell! Why the hell does Grunt think a Shotgun can protect him from sexually transmitted diseases?' Shepard demanded.
'Because Wrex delegated giving him the talk to 'you, over there!' instead of doing it himself.' I revealed, cackling.
'And why couldn't you do it?' Shepard asked.
'Well, It would be a great offense, interfering with the Rite of another clan like that.' I explained.
'And the real reason?' Shepard asked without waiting a single second.
'I was laughing too hard to say anything in time.' I admitted.
'Krell.' Shepard stared at me.
'Shepard.' I nodded in reply.
'I should go.' Shepard finally decided with a resigned sigh.
Author's Notes: A longer chapter in the lead up to Mordin's Loyalty Mission. This chapter was almost named 'God's Country' but even though the vibe of that song fits it pretty well, Have a Drink on Me fit it a little better. The Maelon Arc's a little over 5,600 words. I'm debating keeping that as one block, editing it down a bit, or splitting it in two. I think the chapter title I picked for it works best in one piece, so I'll probably leave it like that.
