Why Sororitas and Alcohol don't Mix
There were victory celebrations, that much I can remember. The sort of debased, bottom-scraping indulgences they never would let us have back if we were Mordin troops. The alcohol flowed as freely as hydro-rations on an ocean world, and if some guy or girl in the guard strayed too far from the revelry they usually disappeared for the night. And we would laugh about it, knowing that then certain body fluids flowed shortly after they wondered off with one of the locals or someone from another unit.
I woke up on some busted old bed in the remains of what was the heretical Planetary Governor's palace, some of my blood-and-filth encrusted clothes half-draped out a nearby window. My head was ringing and as I groaned and rolled to my left, I came face to face with one of those sororitas. For a moment my heart skipped a few beats, and I damn near made a mess of the sheets.
She was still sleeping, so I took the time to see if I would be able to gather up my things and get out of there before she woke up and kills me for heresy.
While I'm slowly edging my way to the edge of the bed while keeping my eyes on the battle sister, I etch into my mind's eye what she looks like. Should I survive this, she'll make a great whacking memory. Her complexion is flawless, a sort of light olive skin tone. Her face with high cheekbones and broad face made for a beautiful woman, more than a bit exotic than any of the women from my homeworld. I take in the thin and shallow scar that runs across one cheek under her eye that terminates at the bridge of her nose. I find that this doesn't detract from her beauty, but adds to it, makes the rest of her beauty more flawless. I look down past her puffy lips and slender neck to her torso. She's clutching the sheet to herself, but with how her arm is positioned, it rests between her modestly sized but perfectly formed breasts, which even lying on her back have only a little sag to the sides. I see from her arms and one exposed leg the definition of her compact muscles. It was clear that she exemplified the fitness that these lady warrior elites of the Imperium were known for.
For some reason when I spot a few splatters of blood on the sheets that are draped across her thighs and another splattering of blood elsewhere on the sheets, a warning sound goes off in my mind, but in my hung-over and slightly panicked state, I can't seem to recall what it means.
My heart skips a beat as I hear the noise of a stumbling body coming from the adjacent bathroom. I turn my head to see another sororitas stumbling naked out through the shattered frame of the door. Later upon reflection of this event, I found that I surprised myself in that it wasn't her firm, fit, pale and nude body that I first took note of nor her somewhat larger, firm and perky breasts, but her face that drew my eyes. Her face was more like the women that I knew back home, a more narrow and elongated face. And just as beautiful. She too had a thin shallow scar on her face but hers started below one eye and cut across the corner of her full lips and ended above her jaw line, and adorning the opposite cheek was a fleur-de-lis tattoo. And like her battle sister in bed with me, these marks only served to highlight her beauty. But what got my attention to that part of her body was her hair. I could tell that she was young, as was the other one, probably they were only just recently left the Schola Progenium, yet her hair was a blonde so stark that it was as white as the snow that capped the peaks of the mountains that were visible though the window.
It was than that I took in the rest of her body as a quick glance between her legs confirmed that it was her natural color. Some part of me laughed inside my mind at this as the other sororitas had hair that was as black as the deep space between worlds.
It was then that I noticed the few splotches of red dyeing her trimmed pubic hair and some dried blood clinging to her inner thighs. The warning sound from before now makes sense.
'Last night,' I thought to myself, panic gripping me even tighter, 'not only did I have sex with two sororitas, the chosen of the Emperors Ecclesiarchy, I took their… Oh fuck, after I've been executed, the Emperor is going to obliterate my soul.'
She stumbles in, dancing the giddily abstracted hop of a hangover, trying to put on her panties. She succeeds and rights herself before she turns and with bleary blue eyes see that I'm looking at her.
"Umm… Ave, fellow soul-before-the-Emperor." She says in a surprisingly unsure and nervous tone, "...You're awake." A little stunned at the redundancy of her own greeting she wobbles and promptly sits down on the end of the bed.
There is a long pause.
My heart does more than skip a beat when I feel the bed to my side move. I look over and see the other beauty staring at me, green almond shaped eyes betraying the same nervousness heard in the first ones voice.
"Maybe we should… urh… you know?" she said, pulling the sheet completely off of her body, exposing herself and showing that she matched the physical perfection of her fellow sororitas.
"Know what?" was the most intelligent thing I could manage at the moment with what I was seeing before me.
The other moved from sitting at the foot of the bed to beside me, pulling off her panties as she approached. Under the ruffled feathers of bed-hair the sororitas white cheeks redden furiously, her hands rubbing aimlessly across her bare and swollen breasts. "D-Don't make us pull rank, Guardsman!"
Her lip quivers for the barest of seconds, betraying a subtle loss of nerve.
"I...I'm…We're not trained for this situation." she stammers.
Small wonder, a quick review of helmet footage from one of their helms reveals that I had to help them through much of last night's proceedings. At the end of the review session both blush and turn away from me even though just an hour before hand, before we watched the recording, they seemed nervous but eager to continue what none of us had yet remembered had happened the previous night.
"What's the matter, you didn't like it?" I asked, not immediately realizing that my question could be seen as anything other than concern for them.
The tattooed one turns back to me quickly, breasts swaying pleasantly enough to almost distract me from the fact that she's staring melta blasts into my eyes.
"Not at all," she smirks as she forces me to the bed, a hand on each shoulder "the problem is that I think we liked it quite a lot." After a few moments of kissing the white haired one, my hands roaming her body as she held me to her lips with one hand while the other started play with a certain part of my anatomy, I felt the body of the black haired one press along my back, felt her lips on the back of my neck while one of her hands joined her sisters hand between my legs.
"Okay, this will probably be worth getting executed for heresy." I thought to myself before concentrating on the matter at hand.