Holy shit my head hurts. For the first time more than a single person was affected by the Exit Portal Effect, the phenomena that stuns, disorients, and marks for violent devouring that starts off our travels in a new universe.
This time we had landed on a tightly packed fireteam of Theron Guards led by a Theron Sentinel on a scouting mission to evaluate the Lethia Imulsion Facility as a growing threat to the security perimeter of Nexus as both a Lambent mustering ground and possible incursion point for human attacks on the underground tunnel network known as the Hollow.
Jack and I groaned as our minds worked through the grueling training and education of the elite combatants of a race of subterranean mutants. Fortunately there was a lot of overlap in their lives otherwise this would be less a case of multiple perspectives of the same subject and more like tying our minds to five different horses and lighting their tails on fire. The Theron Guards were superhuman mutants trained as elite commandos capable of seeing in complete darkness, tracking via scent like a dog, and surviving harsh injury and exposure.
We got all that times five with the fifth portion being even more powerful and well trained. I now knew Locust Horde military equipment and doctrine better than I knew Mass Effect technology and tactics, and it wasn't bad doctrine to have burned into my psyche.
The Locust fought extensively in underground and urban environments and domesticated a wide variety of handy war beasts, and the Therons had over a decade of experience each combined with harsh discipline and training that beat the mistakes and stupid out of them. With all that between them, the Torque Bow felt like it had been made for my hands.
"Damn it." Jack muttered as she held an enchanted ring in her hand, "The magic isn't working."
"The Ring of Namira still works." I told her as the extra power from our feast still flowed through me.
She grabbed the Ebony Blade and nodded her head, "So the demon artifacts still work but all the shit not powered by a connection to an interdimensional devil god are now decorative only."
I checked the Hammer of Might and grinned at the thrum of power. There is a fair bit of debate on Malacath's place as a Daedric Prince and the hammer wasn't even something he made himself, but the fact that it still worked as intended despite being in a new universe was another point in favor of the Lord of Outcasts.
I reached over to one of our generous hosts and pulled out his tool kit. He carried everything the team needed to repair their gear in the field, and I used it to put together two new suits of armor for me and the wife. It wasn't pretty, but little in this world is. In truth the armor was a bit superfluous considering my raw durability and regeneration would see me through anything short of a lightmass bombing or a three hour soaking session in an imulsion lake, but it felt right. It felt properly krogan, and that was something that was always a tenuous claim for me and was becoming more and more a distant memory.
The leader carried the majority of the food, his second in command carried their medical supplies, and they all carried enough ammo to hold them through heavy fighting. We had five Torque Bows, Three Hammerburst Assault Rifles, Two Gnasher Shotguns and five Boltok Revolvers. They carried a smattering of grenades and knives between them and I had a hell of a time rigging everything for us to comfortably carry it all.
I stripped the extra three Torque Bows and the odd rifle out for parts and mounted two pistols on a bandolier belt cowboy style for each of us with the last strapped to my chest pointed up and away from my head and made use of the mag tech back holsters for the shotguns and torque bows. We'd carry the rifles, but with our strength and endurance that was no problem.
We chose to continue their mission to the imulsion plant. I knew that we were nearing the start of the first game and I was sure Delta Team would appreciate having the plant cleared out. Those guys sure deserved a little peace on that hectic mission. Not that I didn't expect them not to shoot me on sight. I may not be grey, but I was big and scaly, and definitely not human and if there is anything the war torn years after the Emergence Day taught the Serans it was that anything not human was out to get them.
We arrived to find a gang of the Stranded trying to hold off against Lambent infected wretches, poorly. When we opened up on the glowing yellow chimplike creatures they began popping rapidly, deploying their infectious fumes upon death in a last ditch effort to convert more lifeforms to the Lambent plague.
"Oh thank God help came!" A man cried, "I thought we were done for."
"What the fuck is that!" another cried as I came into view.
One shot me with his shotgun and I stared at him.
"Ow." I deadpanned, "Shoot me again and I will murder and eat everyone you care about."
"Please don't." The shaking man begged.
"It's up to you, dude." I informed him.
"Alright, listen up fucktards." Jack took over, "This place is about to become Locust Central and the Lambent are already here so you all need to find someplace else that sucks less than here to stay."
"We'd gladly leave." stated the bearded leader of this gang of Stranded, "But our transport is broken down and unless we find some parts we can adapt from this facility to get it running again we are stuck. We are way too far out from anywhere to make it to shelter before nightfall."
"Alright." Jack nodded, "Give Grunt here some time to clear out this facility. Till then, I am going to teach you people how to defend a position."
"Damn Lambent are the worst kind of enemies. Fucking stingy enough not not leave behind anything to eat besides brain rot soup." I complained as I used my super nose to lead me to the various groupings of infected wretches that had taken up residence in the Lethia Imulsion Facility.
Getting used to such a hugely empowered sensory organ would take some time. My senses had sharpened after Jabba and Jar-Shak, but neither of those had a genuine super sense, let alone the power of five of those super senses combined. Fortunately between being a krogan, hutt, argonian, and locust hybrid nothing really smelled offensive to me. I wouldn't like to be standing next to a big steaming pile of shit, but at the same time it wouldn't be gag inducing.
I spent an afternoon and evening hunting down all the damn fungus infested cave chimps, only stopping to step out and catch a few of the flying kryll of a snack.
It's funny how these toothy bastards are a nightly disaster for the people of this world, but for a guy with skin that would make steel jealous they are a direct delivery all you can eat buffet. Free too. It will be sad when these guys are all gone due to WMD related extinction.
When I got back to the Stranded camp Jack had set herself up as Queen of the Lost. She had the band of bitter survivalists wrapped around her finger, and why shouldn't she. Jack was an empress twice over with nearly a century of combat training and experience. There were few people I could think of in the worlds of fiction with her drive and survival instincts. To these sad fucks living off the corpse of their civilization she was a goddess come down to show them the way.
"Place is clear for now." I told her, "Can't make any guarantees that things will stay like that till morning, but they are free to poke around the insides of the facility."
"Alright, you heard the man!" Jack yelled at them, "Get to stripping this place, and remember the buddy system! One man works while the other keeps his fucking head on a swivel and his finger on the trigger guard! Trigger guard, not the fucking trigger. Got that Sanchez, or do you want to shoot my husband again and make him eat everyone you love? Your choice, dude."
"I will be working." Sanchez assured her, "No way am I risking death by lizard man."
"There's hope for you yet, Sanchez." Jack nodded, "You're dumber than cats and dogs, but if you live long enough you just might learn enough to walk and chew gum at the same time."
I chuckled as the Stranded got to work.
"You make for a damn fine post apocalyptic queen." I told her.
"I am working in my element, babe." Jack grinned, "This world is going to be my bitch."
Big boost this chapter. I rated Grunt at the end of Mass Effect at the upper levels of Class 5 lifting strength. With Jabba, Jar-Shak, and the 5 Therons he is approaching the upper range of Class 10. I'd put his current lifting strenght as 8.5 tons, which is important considering he isn't going to get much physical might on the next jump and after that I have him and Jack dropping on top of a Brute Chief on the Convenent Supercarrier on the way to Reach. The average Brute is upper Class 10 with the strongest pushing into lower Class 25. And I will be using their literary durablity, not the paper thin defense they had in Halo 3.
I hope someone enjoyed the math I try to keep track of for this story.
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