Main Story : Outlaws of the Verse . Episode 2 ( Recruiting) part 1 : Grunt . Series : Mass Effect .
CHAPTER :
The first person that met Hilda's high standards, as she had dismissed ten outlaws before him, was a Krogan. Though not the one from the bar.
He was easily passed 7 feet tall, though no where near 8. An amphibious lifeform, made of pure muscle. With the occasional patch of rock-like scales, and a lama sized hump behind his head. His face was a cross between a man and a toad. Big jaw and all.
Overall, a truly ugly creature... that radiated power. But that wasn't what attracted Hilda to him. The key difference, between another Krogan she had dismissed. Was his dress.
He hadn't even taken off his armor, for the purpose of hanging out at a bar. Since guns were outlawed, he was strapped with knives and swords. He had a bag of holding on his belt. Implying he was ready to leave at a second's notice.
He wasn't looking for adventure. This lifestyle wasn't about glory or money. You could tell by his eyes... this life was about living free.
"Urdnot?" Hilda recognized a symbol on his armor.
The ugly creature grunted.
"You got a name, Urdnot?" Gene asked, before Hilda shot him a look. Clearly telling him she wanted to handle this one... strange, she didn't mind him talking to any of the other candidates. This one must have really caught her interest.
"Grunt," The Krogan calmly informed.
"You're chief Wrex's son," Hilda more acknowledged then asked.
Grunt gave a firm nod.
"You're father's a human Spectre, I hear." Hilda gave a calculating smile.
"She is," Grunt acknowledged. "But she's actually my mother."
"How's that work?" Gene blinked.
Grunt growled, although their was a clear blush on his face. He looked away. "I'm adopted," He grunted.
Gene nodded, but by Hilda's expression, not even she knew that. "Still that's some pedigree," Gene acknowledged.
Grunt rolled his eyes. "Most Krogan would disagree, Father has to near constantly bash People's heads in, for attempting to shame him for taking a human mate... and a tank born as a son."
Grunt grunted, living up to his name. "My biological father wished to perfect the gods design. Created a few thousand genetically engineered Whelps. But I was his 'Perfect Creation'...
"Of course, such useless genetic superiority, has never helped me get a job... if anything, the Krogan guilds are hesitant to trust a 'Tank Born'. Thought I'd try my luck elsewhere."
That was rare. Most Krogan, never leave that Dyson Sphere, the Terran Empire gave them. Although, when they do, they nearly always joined Outlaw ships, or even pirate guilds.
Their Dyson Sphere was a joint project by the Terrans and Wizards. A way to contain the Krogan, and prevent them from multiplying across the Galaxy.
As Dyson Sphere's are, as the name implies, massive Spheres. They are the size of a solar system, and use a star, at the center of the device, as its major power source.
This was a necessity, given Krogan breed like typical amphibians. Each Krogan female is capable of laying a thousand eggs, per birthing.
With it only taking 8 human years, for those eggs to mature into fully grown adults. The equivalent of a 25 year old human, by the Earth Calendar. Then the Krogan proceed to live over 1200 years.
In other words they had ridiculously long lives, and an even more ridiculous birth rate.
In the 50 years, since the Krogan gained their Dyson Sphere, there population had skyrocketed.
Without their natural predators, Krogan had a bit of a population control problem. But the Terran's prepared for that. Giving them 42 Dyson Spheres, just for them. With each clan getting their own Sphere.
While the wizards filled it with extension charms. So that each Krogan household, the size of a single doorframe, contained a whole small town inside. With hundreds of house elves, per household, to help take care of all the children. Even educate them.
Each condo/village came with their own farm (For Replicator rations). Along with a small army of house elves, to help raise the children and care for the property.
Gene had seen documentaries about the Dyson Spheres. It was so freaking big, and with the millions of trillions of extension charms... it looked like a ghost town. Yet trillions of Krogan lived there.
"What made you leave?" Hilda casually asked. "Getting picked on doesn't seem a very Krogan reason."
Grunt snorted in amusement, then shrugged. "Been training my whole life. Won my share of Combat tournaments... but When I was first hatched from my pod, I was raised on a ship... got to experience life with a tight net group of people, all working towards the same goal... all watching each others backs... and not giving a damn about 'racial politics'..." he muttered the last bit. Then trailed off, as if remembering those days of his youth.
Hilda smiled. "You miss it," She acknowledged.
Grunt somehow made a sound, that was both a dismissal... and confirmation.
He did miss the camaraderie, of living on a ship.
Hilda smiled a genuine smile, "You're exactly what I'm looking for."
