Grunt

Much to your surprise, you find yourself staring up at a hulking Krogan. Grunt manages to take up quite a bit of room, even in your spacious captain's cabin. Something seems to be bothering the brute, those beady blue eyes shift around uneasily.

"What's the matter, Grunt? If I didn't know you any better, I'd think you were almost nervous."

The Krogan lets out an angry huff, but luckily keeps his temper in check.

"Never! It's just.. The coming battle, I feel something, strange."

A vague response to say the least, but as a tank-bred creature, poor Grunt knows all too little of his own people and culture.

"I can't have you charging into battle with any big distractions. If something's on your mind, have a seat and spit it out."

The term appears to confuse Grunt for a few seconds, before he plods over to the sofa, one of the few pieces of human furniture that could support his monstrous frame. You join him, taking a seat on the nearest chair, then, with an annoyed grunt, his story begins.

"Ever since we slaughter the collector's, it's felt as though something's been building. I thought that this new war would make things easier, but it only seems to be growing stronger. The need.. It burns." Absentmindedly, Grunt strokes the right leg of his armor, an all too telling move.

Surely it's not what you think it is.

You recall something Wrex said back on Tuchanka, that when Grunt reached maturity, the urge to mate would hit him like a ton of palladium. While you knew it would happen eventually, this is the worst possible time. But maybe, just maybe, this was something else.

"What do you mean by need, does this feel like the bloodlust from before?"

His gravelly laughter makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

"That I can recognize, Doe, it never leaves. But this, this isn't rage. It's something deeper, like the spirits of my ancestors, roaring to be free!" In his enthusiasm, Grunt swings his arms, knocking over a lamp with a crash. But the mess doesn't even phase you, this situation is far more pressing. If something isn't done about this, Grunt could be a liability, and with Miranda's life hanging in the balance, you've got no time to babysit a horny turtle. The problem is, it appears that sating his craving is the only way to ensure the brute's obedience.

With a heavy sigh, you weigh the options. Could you really go through with such a thing? And more importantly, can you afford not to?