While the rest of the galaxy struggled under the reaper assault, the upper crust of the Krogan race and I found ourselves camping out on a little world known as Utukku.
The place sucked, a real life finds a way desert planet. Blazing hot in the day and freezing cold at night. Everything on this world is leathery, gnarled, and tasteless.
But we didn't come here for the natives. The reason every clan chief, mercenary warlord, and cutthroat businessman and their krants came to this dust ball is to participate in a near religious experience, the hunt for the last rachni Queen.
In the games the reapers make rachni forces whether Shepard spares the Queen on Noveria or not, which is bullshit by the way. Here, Space Momma let the rachni loose on the galaxy and they got caught by the reapers and used to breed an endless supply of tentacle monster turned bio turret soldiers.
We could be out on Palavin fighting the reaper ground forces, or Earth, or any number of worlds, but we are here to destroy the rachni like our ancestors before us. We constantly rotated teams entering the cave system that worked as a hive for these wretched creatures. Every team carried with them a full tank flamethrower to burn through the webs and fields of eggs, the rest battled the warriors the twisted Queen breeds constantly for her reaper masters.
Progress was slow as we respected the powerful cannons the reapers mounted onto their monstrous servants. Those bastards possessed pinpoint accuracy and enough firepower to tear the more squishy races in half with one shot. Every krogan too stupid or too slow died.
Despite our losses, you'd be hard pressed to find a more merry gathering in the galaxy. We feasted and drank constantly and told the stories of our ancestors and ourselves as we conducted this great hunt.
Over the course of a few days we wore out the Queen's wretched cunt by slaughtering her children faster than she could birth them. We pushed deeper and deeper into the cave system, encountering less and less resistance until finally we entered the main chamber and found the warped and chained rachni Queen as she shook in terror at our coming.
She could have convinced the Space Momma easily to let her go again, but not us. Her dying wails as we burnt her alive filled our ears as music and the sweet perfume of her burning flesh lifted up through the caves as a burnt offering to the krogan who came before us.
The rachni may come again one day, but none can deny that Overlord Grunt would waste the opportunity for the spectacle they provide.
I spent the rest of the war against the reapers fighting their ground forces in wildly successful battles. The discipline shown by the Tankgrown meant I had no problems with the geth mass producing the M-92 Cain. With those weapons spread out among our forces we had no problems bringing down the Destroyer class reapers. It was almost laughably easy. In the game Shepard destroyed one with a single shot of her Cain, and though we rarely repeated that lucky shot, it was very simple to target the leg joints of the Destroyers to slow them down long enough to aim a kill shot or ten.
I imagine the bigger reapers would love to support the baby reapers we slaughtered en mass, but the Sovereign class reapers were locked in stalemate battles against the fleets of the Council Races. We would eventually lose these battles, but every day we bought brought the Crucible project closer and closer to completion.
Without Cerberus doing their dirty work and providing them information, the reapers had no clue about the construction of the superweapon and we had no issues gaining the resources needed to complete the project. Hell, everything went so smoothly that I was genuinely taken by surprise when Liara contacted me about the fleets marshaling to deliver the galaxy's largest microphone to the Citadel.
A few hours later and a red wave of energy blasted through the entire galaxy. My gear restarting after the wave passed over me indicated we had achieved the best possible ending, total reaper destruction and minimum interruption in our technology.
I am not afraid to admit that the defeat of the reapers left me a little depressed. We'd done a clinic on the reapers and achieved the biggest upset in the history of the galaxy, but where exactly did I fit into a galaxy without a war of annihilation to win. For two years I had abandoned reason and knew only war, and war is not a great resume builder.
'Hello, I am really excited for the opportunity to work for this company.'
'It says here your a veteran. What skills did the army teach you that will help you in the workplace?'
'Well… I can hunt dudes down and kill them.'
'I just don't see you finding our company a good fit. Thank you for applying.'
My situation wasn't near as bad as the vast majority of veterans considering my fallback job of Supreme Leader of a race of savage lizard men, but without a clear enemy to fight my Bobby B leadership skills left much to be desired.
I got really excited about going to the Citadel to but heads with the Council about krogan expansion off Tuchanka until I realized that by outing all of Cerberus's operative and agents, the Shepard clone wouldn't be making any assassination attempts until she broke out of her supermax cell. At least Shepard had called for a neat party with all her former teammates at the luxury apartment Dave gave her after he retired to live out the rest of his life in peace with a certain academy headmistress to keep him company.
I was having a decent time, right up until I realized I kinda didn't like half of these people. At least I finally got Vega to stop bothering me when I broke his record for pull ups. With one hand. While Jack, Miranda, Tali, and Liara hung onto me.
Jack and I had to leave early when I drunkenly decked Javik for describing the Normandy as a worthy vessel defiled and debased by the many disgusting sexual acts carried out by me and the female crew members.
"Sorry… I ruruined the parrrty." I slurred to my gorgeous and kickass wife.
"Fuck that guy." Jack shook her head, "Why is it that everyone with four eyes are total assholes?"
"Dunno." I answered as she lead me to our hotel bedroom and stripped us both of our apparel.
"Alright Big Boy, rise and shine. Mommy needs her fix." Jack encouraged my pipe and I would never fail to rise to the occasion for her.
I couldn't tell if it was the perfect amount of ryncol or the worship of my many believers guiding my hips, but that night I brought intense sexual satisfaction to Jack like never before. I could think of nothing other than shaking my hips just right until I finished and then the felt the existential horror of what I achieved as my release tore open a portal to another dimension beneath us.
I'd triggered the Random Ryncol Effect.
Jack came to much later than me and I handed her a hot wet towel from a steamer unit full of them and a glass full of liquor. Not for the hair of the dog specifically but more to wash out the taste of disgusting slug man.
"The fuck happened and why do I think I'm a really old slug gangster?" Jack moaned then dry heaved at the smell in the room.
"There is good news and bad news." I told my lover, "What do you want first?"
"Good news." Jack responded while she washed the grease and viscera of our first kill in this universe off of her.
"We both got boosted some extra Class 1 lifting power and a fat stack of durability and regeneration and like a thousand years to our lifespan." I told my confused lover, "Eating people is what passes as leadership in these parts so now we are in charge of a huge crime family. Better yet the galaxy is heading for war after some corpo scumbags attacked a world known as Naboo. War Jack, my favorite pastime. I am so excited. Thus ends the good news."
"The fuck does any of that mean? And what's the bad news?" She questioned as she gargled the Star Wars equivalent of whisky.
"The bad news is that we have travelled to a different universe and will never see any of the people we care about ever again unless we get super lucky or somehow become powerful enough to both figure out where our reality is and how to get there. Also we do not gain more power by eating more people. I tried. Also there are space wizards in this galaxy. Thus ends the bad news."
"I feel like everything you have told me is batshit crazy." Jack stated, "You are either fucking with me or have some explaining to do. And what the fuck is going on with my chest? Holy shit my tits are huge," She juggled her now enormous and perfect breasts, "and they feel real." she stood up and looked down at herself, "Why do I look like Wonder Woman?"
"Last night we triggered what the ancient krogan scientists named the Random Ryncol Effect. TLDR: my dick is now an interdimensional transportation device fueled by liquor and calibrated by pussy. When we arrived to this world we were overcome by a case of RRE Interdimensional Munchies where we murdered and ate the first person we found, gaining both his knowledge and power."
"Fucking metal." Jack commented while lifting and spreading her ample and powerful ass cheeks.
"Yes. The RRE is very metal. Only one recorded case ever returned to our verse. Scientists described his DNA as topsy turvy quantum fuckery."
"Is that why I am so much bigger?" Jack asked.
"We both added some mass, you especially. You've gained 20 centimeters in height and - please don't freak out - now weigh over 190 kilos."
"I don't look that dummy thicc." Jack shook her head.
"You are still trim despite gaining a significant portion of contractile tissue on a diet of fat slug man. The generous expansion of your breasts will have to be studied in much greater detail as often as possible."
"You always told me I was perfect." Jack needled me.
"I don't know how, but fate has poured more perfection on you and I am going to be the Mayor of Titty City."
"How are you going to do that?" She teased in a breathy and husky tone.
"Long story short. Dong on titties."