All Hail the Overlord

"Unless you have been living with your head buried in the sand, then you all know who I am. You all know of my slaying the maw and taking Gatatog for myself." I addressed the who's who of the krogan people atop the graves of our ancestors, "But what you people do not know is that I was not born. I was made, and burdened with glorious purpose."

I paused to allow the jeers for a moment, "I was made to bring unending war on my enemies, and from my first breath I have done so, and done it better than any ever before me."

More jeers, "First the collectors. The galactic boogeymen. I rode the Omega Four Relay to the galactic core and survived a journey none before save my enemy ever had. I battled my way into their hive world to its darkest depths and slayed the machine god they sought to raise up. I destroyed their home, drove them into dark space. But the collectors were weak foes, a pathetic imitation of the krogan horde trying to slay me with numbers and their feeble bodies."

Now I had their silence, all krogan loving the tales of foes slain, "So I sought another foe to defeat, and all eyes in the galaxy saw for themselves my slaying of the yahg, a beast of fearsome might and intelligence from the restricted world of Parnak. You heard the power in each attack, and if there is any doubt of his strength we can take a trip to that planet and one of you can attempt to recreate my feat. But those foes were all far away from Tuchanka, from the hearts of the krogan. And now I declare that I have slain the ultimate enemy of the krogan!"

I let the chatter and cries of 'what foe?' die down, "It is exactly what you all are thinking! I have slain the Genophage itself!"

Is it possible for reptiles to go ape shit? Yes it is.

"From my very blood, the Cure was forged!" I owned these space lizards now, "And each and everyone of you is going home today with enough Cure for your entire clan!"

You get the Cure, and you get the Cure. Thank you Oprah for teaching me to win friends and influence others.

"On this day I declare myself the Krogan Overlord!" I shouted at my amped out of their minds audience, "Who here has the quad and the shamelessness to deny my ascendance?"

Not a single taker. Must have maxed my speechcraft when I wasn't paying attention.

Being the Krogan Overlord wasn't that much different than being a Chief. I still spent all my time hunting, and feasting, and drinking, and fucking, just now there was some travel time added in between as I journeyed to each and every clan with my newly forged krant and led them in the afore mentioned activities.

Between Mordin and the geth taking care of the turian bomb and the sabotaged Shroud was simple and clean. Only the sabotage at the Shroud wasn't some kill switch to prevent an airborne version of the Cure from spreading on Tuchanka. It was enough toxins to choke out all life on the planet. But when you combine a super bomb with the toxin motherload you get a dirty as fuck bomb ready for delivery to either the Palavin or Sur'Kesh, whichever pissed me off enough first.

Currently the salarians were the closest to that point with the number of STG teams my people have found in our scouring of the wastes. At least their delicious amphibian flesh made up for the raw bullshit they were pulling.

Tensions were running high, especially because of how much I enjoyed riling up the turian and salarian ambassadors sent to Tuchanka after the galaxy recovered enough from the shock of my takeover. The ambassadors chosen by Dave and Celia (OC name for the unnamed second asari Councilor) were good people and just enough to keep open war from breaking out long enough for Shepard to blow up the Alpha Relay to prevent the newly arrived reaper fleet from gaining immediate access to the relay network and the capacity to blitz all our home worlds.

We officially had six months to prepare for the Reaper invasion.

My arrival on the Citadel caused almost as much a panic as the reaper's arrival to our galaxy. I stepped off the geth super dreadnought, now named the Kruban Bound, fully armed with my homie Legion operating a red Prime platform. When asked why he made the upgrade he claimed it made him feel safer from possible cybersexual assault.

Good times. Geth Fallout: New Vegas is dope as hell, though.

Our krogan honor guard had to reinforce the C-Sec escort to keep the peace while we made our way to the citadel tower and our meeting with the Council. They wisely met with us in a plush conference room rather than the incredibly patronizing supplicant promontory used for public business.

Somehow Celia had kept her job despite the massive conflict of interest now entering the third trimester growing in her womb. It was likely due to the amount of research and blueprints we sent to the asari in the hopes that they wouldn't be completely ass in the air when the reapers hit their worlds.

Between her and Dave we had a warm welcome despite the turian attempting to burn holes in us with his focused bird eyes. The salarian looked more stressed than pissed. I'd be the same if I had to constantly cover for a head of state as fucked in the head as the Dalatrass.

"Celia." I greeted my favorite politician and affectionately rubbed her swollen baby. "Princess."

"Dave." I nodded to Councilor Anderson, glad he had yet to cede his position to Udina, "No offense pal, but the fuck are you people doing locking up the Commander for slowing down the reapers. We'd be up to our eyeballs in lasers right now if she hadn't blown that relay."

"It's a sensitive political situation." Dave practically groaned, "A lot of innocent people died when she blew that relay. The batarians are out for her blood and house arrest on Earth allows us to both protect her and appear sympathetic about this tragedy."

"Fuck the batarians." I growled, "The only thing tragic about her blowing that relay was that she didn't kill more of them. It'd be a blessing and a half if the reapers took the time to wipe them out before moving on to the rest of us."

"Why don't you miracle us up a blessing?" The turian spoke bitterly, "The Ambassador passed along that you have been declared a living god on Tuchanka, a krogan Messiah. So deliver us oh great Grunt."

"Who am I to bridle if I am forced to be an idol?" I chuckled at the pissy turians needling.

"A sham." The turian dug.

"Doesn't stop me from being an object of devotion and the subject of psalms." I grinned as the reference went over everyone's heads.

"Gentlemen, please. Let's be civil here while we work on the diplomacy necessary to see us through these dark times." Celia chided us as she sat at the conference table.

Legion and I took two heavy duty chairs and I cocked an arm up on the highly reflective and polished table.

"Agreed." I nodded to Jack's baby momma, "We've got six months till the reapers are harvesting our home worlds."

"Six months?" David questioned from his place at the high table, "Where are you getting this number, the loss of the Alpha relay will hold them up for at least a year."

"You're underestimating their speed." I shook my head, "Six months people."

"That isn't nearly enough time to get our fleets retrofitted and our population centers ready." Celia stated in frustration.

"If it really is six months then there is no way we will be able to muster up the strength to defeat the reapers, even if we all banded together." Dave rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out a stressed sigh.

"Not necessarily." Legion stated, "Our partnership with the krogan has allowed all geth platforms to dedicate to manufacturing and resource acquisition. In return for a place on the Citadel Council for both the geth and the krogan, we are offering to extend our alliance to the other council races. Krogan warfighters and geth manufacturing in return for resources and representation."

"Warfighters?" Dave questioned the krogan contribution.

"Every day I ruin thousands of krogan lives by subjecting newborns to artificial age acceleration and education." I answered, "With the help of the geth I have been able to create education modules for ground pounders, fighter pilots, crewmen and every other job that doesn't require experience or emotional intelligence. The Tankgrown are as focused and disciplined as any krogan can be, and they have none of the biases the older krogan possess. I could drop an entire division on Palavin or Sur'kesh and they will perform entirely as instructed. You give us what we want and I will let you purchase as many krogan bodies as you need."

"That sounds an awful lot like slavery." Dave commented while giving me the suspicious side eye.

"That's because it is." I growled, "I've subjected my own children to this, so don't think for even a minute that I am gleeful about what we are doing. But there is no cost too high to pay to defeat the reapers."

"You really think an entire division of krogan warriors could hold discipline on Palavin?" the turian sounded impressed for the first time in this meeting.

"I'll let you all send military officers to Tuchanka to test the Tankgrown." I told him, "You will see for yourselves that they are a blunt instrument, but they will hold the line without question."

We worked over the details for hours, but left that conference room with everything we came for.

The announcement of the krogan and geth joining the Citadel Council brought the quarians to the table of peaceful negotiation rather than launching an insane war at the onset of a galactic extinction event.

The Admiralty Board came to the Tuchanka to negotiate the quarians' return to Rannoch. For me it was just a nice excuse to get Miss Hips back into the sack, and what a sack it had become. The ruined city that Gatatog held for centuries had been rebuilt by the geth and now looked more like Night City than something you'd expect the ultra territorial krogan to live in.

The massive vertical construction effort was more just an ego trip. With the Tankgrown females now pumping out kids of their own, we needed to plan every inch of outward and upward growth to accommodate the exponentially growing population, and with unnatural disasters like Kalros moving beneath the wastes, horizontal expansion wasn't always an option. Better to build up on a solid stone and concrete foundation than build out on the shifting sands and have her wreck all your efforts.

Negotiating with the quarians was EZPZ considering the geth had chosen the transfer out of the Perseus Veil after the the war with the reapers and settle permanently with the krogan, the marriage of our two peoples providing the security and stability for both our species to pursue our natural specializations more successfully.

Ultimately the geth did not want to participate in conflict and we did. Match made in Heaven.

The sight of the quarian Admirals composure breaking down when we told them that after we beat the reapers we'd just give them back their home world was worth missing out on a few days of hunting, feasting, drinking, and fucking... well not fucking between Tali and Jack that wasn't an option.

I think leadership is putting me into a rut, but a rutting I gladly participate in.

As the months crept by and the reapers barred down on us nearer and nearer, many of the young Tankborn had left the planet, taking up positions with Aria and Liara firstly, and then by the asari military, the human Alliance, and lastly the turian Hierarchy. The salarian interest in krogan mercenary forces were quashed by the Dalatrass and if they suffer for it they know who to blame. I damn near launched the doomsday dirty bomb on Sur'kesh for her insolence in our last diplomatic blow up over yet another STG team I had at my table for dinner.

For fuck's sake there is a giant statue of Mordin Solus being carried on my shoulder as we raise our arms in victory in front of my kick ass palace. How thick does a person need to be to not get the message?

We can be friends you dumb fucking bitch.

Maybe if I paint it onto my palatial lawn she will be able to see the message from a spy satellite.

Nah. She still wouldn't understand.

When Aria T'loak turned up at my personal hanger with our young daughter and a tale of Oleg Petrovsky threatening to destroy Omega if she didn't hand control of the station over to Cerberus I knew two things. Everyone was finally where I needed them to be and this is the night bitches die.

Well… when I get there is the night bitches die. Space travel takes time.