CHAPTER 02

Forged in Conflict

MEGI

The battlefield was silent after the final combat. The formerly riotous sight had transformed into a sad landscape with fallen warriors and smoldering rubble. Even though we won, I was tremendously affected by our losses. I moved among the surviving warriors, encouraging them and ministering to their wounds.

As I kneeled beside a wounded fighter, using my biotic abilities to carefully lift debris from his leg, I couldn't help but consider the price of our victory. "Hold still; you'll be fine," I murmured, my voice hard but soothing. The fighter nodded, appreciation shining in his eyes. Among the sea of suffering and loss, his thankfulness provided a tiny solace.

Marak stepped forward, his enormous bulk casting a shadow over me. "We did it, Megi. But at what cost?" he asked, his voice heavy with regret.

I got up to put my hand on his shoulder. "We knew there was a risk, Marak. We fought for our clan and future. We memorialize the departed by fighting for the causes they believed in." Even as I spoke, I had a sense of suspicion. Was it truly worth it? The faces of our deceased colleagues flashed before my eyes, and I forced the uncertainty aside. We needed to believe it was valuable, or their efforts would be in vain.

Our newfound allies, Clan Jorgal and Clan Jurdon, set to work recovering their dead and tending to the wounded. The bond formed during war had shown to be solid, and the clans' esteem had risen. Reaching out to us, the chiefs of Clans Jorgal and Jurdon praised our bravery and leadership.

Towering, with scarred visage, Joral Tharak nodded at me. "Urdnot Megi, you fought honorably. Your biotics have changed the tide more than once."

My head slanted. "And your warriors fought with unparalleled savagery, Tharak. We were unstoppable when we were together." I meant every word, but I couldn't shake the impression that our union was as fragile as the peace we had just broken. Will they support us when the next threat emerges?

Jurdon Krag, a big krogan with a booming voice, clapped Marak's back. "We showed those pyjaks what it means to face the might of the krogan!"

Drau Sorze, a "ruzad" from Clan Drau, arrived to settle the aftermath. His presence provided order and justice to the proceedings. He commended the allied clan's unity and pronounced the dispute settled. The remaining krogan warriors felt renewed purpose and respect after hearing his comments.

Sorze lifted his voice, addressing the assembled troops. "We demonstrated today that camaraderie is our greatest strength. Clan Urdnot, Clan Jorgal, Clan Jurdon—you have demonstrated that we can overcome any obstacle when we work together."

I turned to confront the remaining Urdnot krogan, survivors, and allies. Despite the losses, there was a palpable sense of accomplishment in the air. Krogan fighters celebrated the victory in their own unique way. They exploded in jubilation, their voices echoing over the field. Some beat their chests, while others destroy their weapons, creating a cocophony of metal. It was primal, primitive display of power and solidarity.

As the sun set over the barren landscape, I stood behind Marak, watching our men. "We have a lot to rebuild. But we will do it together, as we always have."

Marak nodded, revealing a rare smile. "Together, Megi."

I watched him walk away, feeling a mixture of pride and trepidation. The future was unpredictable, but one thing was certain: we would face it together, as siblings, warriors, and Urdnot. And I would do all in my power to make sure our clan not only survived, but thrived.

As the dust settled and the clans started to rebuild, Marak and I took a minute to reflect on our experience. The turf war had tested our mettle, but it had also deepened our camaraderie and cemented our status as tough leaders.

Marak, his hammer on his shoulder, peered out across the horizon. "We've come a long way, Megi," he exclaimed, his voice full with enthusiasm. "But this is just the beginning."

I nodded, feeling a faint crackle of biotic energy within me. "Marak, we have proven ourselves. Now is the moment to consider the future."

He looked at me, his eyes full of purpose. "What do you see for our future, Megi?"

I drew a long breath and examined his question. "I'm confident that we'll rebuild stronger than ever. Our allies now regard us with respect, and we must retain it. We must prioritize our clan's success over survival."

Before Marak could react, a familiar voice stopped us. "Wise words, sister."

We turned around to see our oldest brother, Cigas, arriving. His presence as a reminder of the significant role he had performed behind the scenes. While Marak and I were the visible heroes on the battlefield, Cigas' actions assured we had the backing and the recourses we required to succeed.

Marak nodded and hailed him as "Cigas. Your timing is impeccable as always."

An uncommon look for Cigas was a grin. "I have been keeping an eye on both of you. You did a good job. Now, we must prioritize the following actions.

I felt both pride and skepticism as he spoke. "What do you suggest?"

Cigas seemed contemplative. "We need to fortify our alliances and secure our territory. There are ongoing threats, and we cannot afford to be complacent."

Marak grasped his hammer firmly. "Agreed. We'll need to be cautious."

As I looked at the horizon, my head was already filled with thoughts. "We must prioritize taking care of our people. They've made tremendous sacrifices. We owe it to them to build a future worth fighting for."

Cigas nodded. "Exactly. Just like we always have, collaboration will be necessary."

As we stood there, side by side, I couldn't help but think about our people. The krogan who had fought and died for our cause, the families who had lost loved ones, and the future generations who would inherit the planet we were transforming. Our adventure was far from done, but I was certain that with Marak and Cigas at my side, we could tackle any problems that arose.

Yet, underlying my resolution, there lurked a gnawing doubt. Did we really do the right thing? The faces of the fallen tormented me, their sacrifices serving as a continual reminder of the cost of our victory. I had always believed in our cause, but here, standing among the ashes of our victory, I wondered if the price had been too high.

I observed Marak and Cigas's unshakable confidence. They appeared firm and confident. Did they have the same concerns I did? Was I alone in my fears? I pushed aside the ideas, knowing I couldn't exhibit weakness. Now is not the time for us to be weak.

As I went over the war remains, my thoughts turned to my people's past. The Krogan have always been a strong and tenacious people, yet our history is fraught with strife and misery.

The Krogan Rebellions of 700 CE were a pivotal moment in our history. We were motivated by the salarians to fight the rachni, and we did it with unrivaled fury. However, after neutralizing the rachni, our population skyrocketed, and we began rapidly expanding. The Rebellions were the species' reaction to our becoming a threat. The deadly conflict ended with us subdued.

However, the worst was to come. The salarians developed a biological weapon known as the Genophage. They thought that the very presence of the hazard would serve as a deterrent, discouraging anyone from utilizing it. The turians on the other hand, had a different perspective. The used the Genophage to control our numbers as well as against us.

The Genophage did more than just lower fertility; it guaranteed that just one out of every thousand eggs was viable. Most krogan fetuses did not grow correctly, resulting in stillbirths and a profound sense of hopelessness among our people. The psychological impact was awful since we were compelled to dispose of enormous quantities of the deceased.

Marak and I were regarded as miraculous members of our kind. We were the only two to survive after hatching from a batch of a thousand eggs. Our existence provided hope for our clan, but it also put us under a lot of strain. We were reminded often of our rarity and the responsibility we had to guide and safeguard our people.

I often reflect on the lives that may have been, the siblings we never knew. Each stillbirth was a reminder of the Genophage's atrocities, a quiet witness to our people's suffering. It strengthened my commitment to fight so that future generations wouldn't have to go through what we had.

I noticed a shared commitment among the surviving. Despite facing several hurdles, we shown strength and resilience. Though our mission was far from done, I was confident that with Marak and Cigas at my side, we could overcome any obstacles that came our way.

Our past encompasses both suffering and promise. Tuchanka's children were fashioned through struggle. As long as we stand together, we shall preserve.

One evening, as the three of us sat around a campfire, the flickering flames throwing shadows on our faces, Marak's eyes was drawn to a krogan mother nearby. She grieved silently while cuddling a clutch of stillborn eggs. The scene was a striking reminder of the Genophage's heinous impact on our people.

Marak's gaze clouded, and he ended the stillness. "It's difficult to see this and not be angry," he remarked, his voice low and painful. "Every time I see a mother mourning her lost children, I want to tear the galaxy apart."

I glanced at him, absorbing the impact of his words. "I know, Marak. The Genophage has caused so much anguish. But we can't let the rage destroy us."

He turned to face me, his eyes blazing with rage. "How can you say that, Megi? How can we just accept this?"

I took a deep breath and tried to think of the right words. "We cannot change the past, but we can learn from it. The salarians and the turians did what they felt was necessary to preserve the galaxy. We must find a way to coexist and rebuild without repeating our mistakes."

Marak, with his hammer beside him, looked at me attentively. "Maybe, Megi. However, it is not easy to forgive and forget. The wounds run deep."

I nodded, understanding his anger. "I know, Marak. However, holding into that rage would only destroy us. We need to do better for our people."

I reached out, putting my hand on his arm. "Marak, I feel it too. Every day. But we must redirect our grief into something productive. We have to prove to the galaxy that we are more than simply fighters. We are survivors, builders, and leaders."

Marak glanced at me with eyes that reflect the firelight. "You've always been the rational one, Megi. However, I doubt that everyone views things the same way you do."

I took a deep breath, know that the following sentence would be tough to say. "We also have to remember that our ancestors brought this on themselves. They tried to conquer the galaxy, and the salarians and turians were forced to respond. The Genophage was their way of safeguarding the galaxy from us."

Marak's expression stiffened. "It's hard to accept that our own actions led to this suffering."

"I know, "I said lightly. "But if we don't own our mistakes in the past, we're headed to repeat them. Without reverting to the historical trends of conquest and hostility, we must figure out how to live together and rebuild.

Cigas nodded in agreement. "We have already taken the initial steps. Our alliances and achievements prove that we are capable of change. We just need to keep pushing forward."

As we sat there, the fire crackled quietly, I felt a sense of determination. Though far from over, we were headed in the right direction. We would tackle whatever obstacles arose together, with the power and wisdom that distinguished Urdnot.

172 years later, the galaxy was on the verge of another war. Humanity, a relatively new species in the galactic cosmos, had unintentionally activated a dormant mass relay, provoking an urgent and aggressive response from the turians. The ensuing clashes marked the start of the First Contact War.

Marak, Cigas, and I found ourselves on planet Shanxi, lured into the fight despite the fact that the krogan was not directly involved. As centuries-old fighters, we regarded this as a chance to study and learn about the new species that had come into the galactic arena.

We stood on a ridge overlooking a human settlement, the sounds of conflict reverberating in the air. Marak, the ever-ready warrior, was eager to join the fight. "These humans are tough," he replied, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "I like them already."

Even though I rolled my eyes, I had to grin at his delight. "You like anyone who puts up a good fight, Marak."

Cigas, the consummate strategist, was more cautious. "We have to be careful. Although we still don't know enough about these people, the turians should not be taken lightly."

I agreed with a nod. "Cigas is right. We're here to observe, not get involved. Let see how this plays out before we make any moves."

Marak groaned, obviously dissatisfied. "Fine, but if things get interesting, I'm not sitting on the sidelines."

We descended to an obscure vantage point near the settlement, blending into the shadows. The humans were fiercely resisting the turians, and their will was visible in everything they did. I couldn't help but admire their tenacity.

Marak was watching the conflict with great interest. "These humans have spirit. I like that."

I chuckled. "Remember, Marak, we're just here to observe. Let's avoid interfering until absolutely necessary."

With an impish gleam in his eye, Marak smiled. "I'll bet you 500 credits the humans hold their ground."

Cigas arched an eyebrow, a rare grin teasing his mouth. "You're on. I'll bet 500 credits that the turians break through."

I shook my head, amused by their antics. "You boys and your bets. Always looking for a way to make things interesting."

Marak shrugged. "What can I say? It keeps things lively."

Cigas nodded in accord. "It's also a useful method for verifying our predictions. Let's find out who is right this time."

As we watched the fight unfold, I couldn't help but feel excited.

We watched carefully while the battle waged on. Humans fought with a combination of desperation and creativity, utilizing their surroundings to advantage. The turians, disciplined and tenacious, pushed their attack with precision.

Marak leaned forward, his gaze narrowed. "Look at that! The humans are preparing an ambush. Clever."

Cigas sneered. "I will give them credit for their resourcefulness. However, the turians have experience. They won't be fooled easily."

As the ambush progressed, I observed the humans surprisingly successfully setting their trap. Although the turians were initially taken by surprise, they soon rallied and launched a counteroffensive. The conflict was intense, with neither side prepared to compromise.

Marak punched the air. "Ha! I knew it. Humans are holding their ground."

Cigas shook his head, but remained impressed. "It isn't over yet. The turians are regrouping. This could go either way."

I could not help but feel excited.

In the third month of the First Contact War, the fighting continued unabated. The humans and turians engaged in a heated conflict, both determined to win. But I had a sense that things were going to change.

As we observed the fights, a Citadel vessel arrived in the sky and descended quickly onto the battleground. The intervention was quick and decisive, with asari, salarian, and a few turian officials stepping in to mediate. The conflict concluded with no obvious winner, and both forces were compelled to stand down.

I turned to my brothers. "I expected the Citadel Council to get involved. The asari, prefer compromise and cooperation over conflict. They would not let this war last much longer."

Marak remained focus on the fight as he groaned. "You think the asari will step in and play peacemaker?"

I nodded. "This is their way. They will advocate for a conclusion that prevents more violence."

Cigas, with his conflicting feelings about the asari, spoke out. "The asari are a long-lived species like ourselves, but their civilization may be demanding. Regardless, I admire them in general. They have a certain… elegance."

Marak grinned. "You mean you admire how they look."

Cigas shrugged, a rare smile tugging on his lips. "That too."

Marak groaned, shaking his head. "Quads, there goes our bet. Neither side won."

Cigas nodded. "Seems like we're even. No credits exchanged this time."

I felt a sense of ease and grinned. "It is for the best. The course of this conflict may have taken a very different turn."

As we prepared to leave our vantage point, we came upon a familiar face. A krogan from Clan Nakmor has a distinct presence. Nakmor Drack was a seasoned warrior with a well-established reputation.

Cigas took a step forward, smiling broadly. "Drack, what brings you here?"

With a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, Drack smiled in return. "Just keeping an eye on things. I can't let you have all the fun, Urdnot."

Marak chuckled. "Good to see you, Drack. We were about to leave."

Drack nodded. "I'll join you. It's been too long since I've had a good fight."

I gazed at my brothers and Drack, feeling a sense of camaraderie. "We don't have to leave just yet. There's still much to observe and learn here."

Marak began to grin. "Agreed. Let's see what else these humans and turians have planned."

I DO NOT own the Mass Effect franchise or its content. I DO NOT make any money from the writing of this story. All rights belong to their rightful owners (EA Games and BioWare).