Disclaimer: Mass Effect is property of Bioware.

Note: This story assumes you have played Mass Effect 2. Contains spoilers for Mass Effect 2.

Warning: This story will contain violent and sexual situations.

Introduction: The krogan have always fascinated me for a few reasons. First and foremost, they amuse me. I think they are the funniest species in the game, hands down. Secondly, I think there are a lot of parallels between Krogans and present-day humanity, believe it or not. I don't want to get into specifics, because I want to illustrate my thoughts through this story, but I think Bioware definitely intended for these parallels to be drawn. Thirdly, the possibilities are endless with Grunt as the main character, since he is basically a krogan teenager with no parental guidance. If Tuchanka had their own version of Jersey Shore, he would be on the show, guaranteed.

My plan is that this chapter will introduce Grunt. The next chapter will introduce Tali. And then chaos and mayhem will ensue. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

START OF CHAPTER

The sun was beginning to rise far yonder, rosy red streaks unfurling from just beyond the horizon, their tendrils stretching outwards along the hazy skyline in a chaotic haphazard pattern. As the mighty sun rose and its luminescent presence strengthened, the sounds of battle dwindled, the volume dying further with each ended life. The echoes of gunshots ricocheted between the hillsides, accompanied by those shrill pathetic screams which only Turians could emit from their bleating mandibles. The lurid stench of burnt flesh and blood, smoking bullet shells, leaking vehicle fuel, and processed mineral ores. Such an intoxicating fragrance to the nose of Urdnot Grunt.

He looked up from the caved-in face of his latest victim, and there she was, standing on top of the hill. A dark and majestic silhouette against the background of the growing sun, with one arm raised high in victory and one foot buried inside a pile of unrecognizable body parts. She was his battle mistress, his goddess of war and victory. So statuesque, so elegant, so alluringly powerful.

He could not help but shiver in excitement as his eyes traced over her impeccable form, for this was truly beauty incarnate. Her heavily muscled legs, with thick tendons working visibly underneath her freshly scarred battle armor. Her powerful trunk of a torso formed a tantalizing arch as she leaned back to spread open her rippling arms, each of her three fingered hands tastefully painted with the berry blue of Turian blood.

He could not see her face in the shadows, but he could feel her gaze of admiration upon him, her well-endowed hump turned unmistakably towards the dauntless warrior below. He could just make out her head crest in the early dawn, and it was so beautiful, so perfect. A perfectly symmetrical wedge of lustrously thick plating, and the color was a lovely chestnut brown, just the right hue indicative of both youth and maturity.

He still could not see her eyes or face, but he was sure that she was beautiful. Her eyes would be perfectly wide-set and symmetrical, her neck's hide was surely a fair unblemished ivory, and her voice...

She beckoned with a gruff growl: "Come to me, Urdnot Grunt."

Her voice was the song of the battle angels themselves, as he knew it would be. He began to trudge up the hill, clutching and fidgeting nervously with his assault rifle. His skull pounding in excitement, his two hearts thundering within his chest. He was helplessly erect now inside his armor, and he shifted his hips around in vain, struggling to relieve the awkward angle and pressure at which his length was pressed against his belly.

One of those scrawny Turians at Grunt's feet, still clinging to his life. He was feebly scrabbling for his holstered pistol like vermin would scratch at a cloth bag of grain. His shattered jaw whispered, "Must... calibrate... weapons..."

Grunt stomped on the Turian's neck, ending the life swiftly, abruptly. Such a merciful death was undeserved for a bringer of the genophage, but Grunt had other things on his mind. As did his battle mistress, his action prompting her to catch her breath in arousal.

He was soon on a knee before her, as she proclaimed, "You fought with the strength and fury of a dozen men today, Urdnot Grunt, and your masterful hands slew more of the accursed enemy than any other, even mine. This victory and its glory, more than anyone else, belongs to you."

"Battle mistress," He bowed his head. "I, Urdnot Grunt, am deeply honored that you recognize my strength!" Damn it, his penile discomfort was getting out of hand. His erection was now snaked around and pressed against the side of his hip? How the hell!

With his head bowed, he still could not see her face, but he could hear her smile. "Urdnot Grunt, is there something you wish to ask?"

Aw, fuck it. Might as well cut to the chase. He sprung to his feet, adjusting his waist armor as best he could. "Battle mistress! I... I would be honored to lay with you tonight! If you deem me worthy, I would gladly have you bear my child!"

She was definitely smiling in the shadows, as she opened her arms invitingly. And his hearts soared to the red sky as she whispered to him...

"Good morning, Urdnot Grunt. This is a reminder that you have an appointment with Yeoman Chambers in one hour."

"Huh?" Grunt cracked open an eye, as a bubble of snot formed over one of his nostrils. "What?"

EDI's voice helpfully repeated from somewhere above his head: "Good morning, Urdnot Grunt. This is a reminder that you have an appointment with Yeoman Chambers in one hour."

"One hour... what... what?" Grunt's eyes flew open, and he stared up at the cargo hold's paneled metal ceiling above him. He was not on the rocky world of Canrum, the site of the great Krogan Rebellion battle between Warlord Shiagur and the Turians. He was not on a hilltop of bloodied stones and corpses. And he was definitely not with a battle mistress of peerless beauty.

He was on the Normandy SR-2 and in its cargo hold. Lying naked on his back on top of two human-sized mattresses laid end to end. His arms and legs hanging over the edges and onto the floor. The hide of his neck was lathered with sweat (krogan sweat glands were almost all exclusively located around their neck). And he had a raging erection which had somehow gotten itself stuck between himself and his bedding.

He sat up, and the snot bubble silently popped as he yelled, "It was a dream? A dream! Damn it, bring her back!"

"Please clarify who you wish to bring back, Urdnot Grunt."

"Stupid machine! Mind your own business!" Grunt growled impatiently as he lifted his ass off the bed so he could yank his ding-a-ling free. He grabbed himself by the shaft, and he shouted at his unruly organ: "Stupid thing! Why do you have to be so hard all the damn time!"

His ding-a-ling had nothing to say, of course, and Grunt sighed as he let it go. This ding-a-ling problem was getting out of control. Just one week ago, no troubles whatsoever. It just stayed inside its little pocket and minded its own business, coming out only when he had to go wee wee. But now, for the past two days?

Every freaking morning. Hard.

Every early afternoon. Hard.

Every early evening. Hard.

"This is intolerable!" Grunt tried to shove himself back into its little hidey hole, but it was not pliable by any means, and it refused to go back in.

"Urdnot Grunt?"

"What do you want?"

"Please note that you have an appointment with Yeoman Chambers in fifty eight minutes."

"Fine, whatever!" He waved away the intangible presence of EDI with a dismissive hand. "I'll be there!"

"Thank you, Urdnot Grunt. Have a good day."

"Up yours." Grunt got up to his feet, shaking his head free of the morning cobwebs. His erection was now sticking out straight ahead, stubborn and defiant.

"Whatever. Fuck it." Grunt scratched his belly as he headed for the exit of the cargo hold. It was shower time.

A thick Irish male accent: "I gotta admit, Gabby, at first I didn't like it when Shepard told us that we'd be takin' orders from a Quarian from now on. But now that we've met her, I think she's all right."

A sassy American female accent: "Well, she definitely seems nice and reasonable enough. Just curious, though, Ken, do you remember anything she said?"

"Of course I remember! I was paying close attention to her!"

"Ok, then, what did she ask us to do with the T6-FBA couplings we installed last month?"

"I, uh... she asked us to... I think I was distracted by an itch on my leg when she mentioned the couplings."

"Itch on your leg, my ass! I knew it! You were paying more attention to her boobs than to her words, you chauvinistic pig!"

Kenneth Donnelly and Gabriella Daniels, the constantly arguing yet inseparable engineers who earned their living in the Normandy's engine room, forever tweaking and optimizing the ship's nuts and bolts. They were walking towards the elevator, having just finished their first meeting with Commander Shepard's latest recruit, a supposedly prodigious Quarian engineer named Tali Zora, and they were now about to go get their morning cup of coffee.

Ken, the easygoing redhead, was flabbergasted. "I'm offended you'd suggest such a thing, Gabby! I take my superiors very seriously, male and female! Especially when they have such nice and well-rounded, ah, resumes."

Gabriella, a spunky brunette who kept a virtual leash on Ken at all times: "Oh please, it was so obvious you were checking her out. Would it have killed you to make eye contact with her at least once?"

"But she's wearin' a mask, Gabby! I canna make eye contact when I canna see the eyes!"

"Oh whatever. Next time we see her, though, you better treat her with respect."

"I'll treat her with respect, sure. But if she likes me, I have no choice but to treat her to a lunch or two, you know."

"Right, that'll be the day." Gabby snorted as they stopped in front of the elevator and she pushed the button. "Although, now that I think about it, how do Quarians eat with their masks on?"

"Huh!" Ken paused to think about it also. "I've noticed that their helmets all have similarly shaped outlets at the mouth area. Perhaps they have some sort of standardized feedin' tube which interfaces with their helmet."

"Hmm, that would make sense. I've heard of Quarian paste before, and although I'm not sure what it is, perhaps that paste is what they eat?"

Gabby heard familiar heavy Krogan footsteps behind her, and she turned her head to see Grunt coming to a stop beside her and Ken. "Good morning, Grunt."

Grunt nodded. "Daniels. Donnelly."

"Aye, morning to you, Grunt."

The Krogan was naked, but the human engineers didn't mind. The crew of the Normandy had gotten used to Grunt walking around in the nude all the time. They weren't exactly sure why he liked to walk around in his birthday suit; his explanation had been vague, something about Krogans needing to embrace their natural state and avoid too much reliance on their armor and weaponry. But either way, it didn't really matter so long as his ding-a-ling stayed out of sight. To the average human, a krogan in the nude was basically just a gigantic armored toad standing on two feet, nothing else.

Gabby turned to ask Grunt, "So, how did you sleep last night woooooooo oh my god!"

The poor woman practically hollered at the sight of Grunt's enormous ding-a-ling, as its tip nearly grazed the panel of buttons which her hand had just touched. She wanted to back away slowly, but she couldn't; she was paralyzed with both shock and something akin to terror.

"Gabby, what the hell was that waaaooh Jesus Christ, Grunt!" Ken shielded his face with his arms, as if Grunt might accidentally poke out his eye with that thing. "Grunt, what are you... what are you doin'?"

The krogan gave Ken a strange look. "I am waiting for the elevator. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"No! I mean, down there! What's goin' on down there!"

"Oh, this." Grunt looked down and flicked the base of his shaft, drawing a stifled gurgle from Gabby. "I don't know what's going on with this thing. For the past two days, it's just been getting randomly hard and long. It's pretty annoying, actually; sometimes, it gets in my way and stuff."

Gabby managed to croak, "Have you... have you seen the doctor about this, Grunt?"

He shrugged. "Nah. It doesn't hurt or anything, so I'm not really concerned right now. If I start feeling pain, though, I will definitely ask Dr. Chakwas to take a look at it."

Ken stammered, "To be honest, Grunt, I think you should see Mordin about your little, err, your big problem there. Chakwas, um, she might not be the right person to, um, handle that."

"Mordin? The Salarian? Fuck Salarians. I don't trust those bug eyed pipsqueaks." Grunt grumbled as he smashed his fists together, causing his ding-a-ling to waver before Gabby's bulging eyes. "He'll probably inject me with a brand new genophage or some other insidious manufactured disease."

The elevator dinged and opened its doors. Grunt walked in. The human engineers stayed behind.

Grunt reached out to hold the doors open for them. He had recently learned from Shepard that this was a human custom. A show of respect to anyone who also wished to enter the elevator.

"You guys coming?"

"We, uh, we forgot to do something back at the engine core." Ken smiled weakly. "We have to go back."

Grunt could tell something was up, but whatever, he didn't care. This "small talk" thing, as humans called it, was highly overrated anyway. He just wanted to get to Deck 3, get into the men's bathroom, and take his shower. Bathing in clean filtered water on a regular basis was considered a luxury on Tuchanka, and he was going to take advantage of every little perk while he was on this ship.

"Sure." Grunt pulled away his hand and stepped back. "Catch you guys later."

Gabby was holding her hands over her eyes, but still peeking. Ken was staring straight ahead, trying hard not to look down. They both said, "Later, Grunt."

Everyone waited for the elevator doors to close, but for some odd reason, they were not closing. "What the." Grunt looked down and realized that his ding-a-ling was obstructing the doorway. "Oh." He clicked his tongue in disgust. "Stupid thing."

He stepped back further so that he was no longer triggering the doors' sensors. After a couple seconds, the doors beeped and slid shut on the pale faces of the engineering duo. Grunt shook his head, wondering why the humans had been so spooked. Freaking squishies. They were so weird.

"Ken?"

"Yes, Gabby?"

"I'm going to lie down for a while."

"I think I will, too. See you in half an hour?"

"Sure."

Grunt was now in the Normandy's restroom for men. A small and efficiently designed facility with two toilets, two urinals, and a relatively large communal shower. A wall of crewmen's lockers on one side. The walls, ceiling, and floor were made of an Asari waterproof alloy with superb resistance against rust and mildew, no water treatment required.

A young blonde man was already standing at one of the urinals, and Grunt settled down in the urinal next to him.

The man looked up briefly and smiled uncomfortably. "Hey, Grunt."

The krogan nodded back in greeting. "Hawthorne."

Grunt then let out a sigh, gave his hips a shake, and the sound of his trickling joined the sound of Hawthorne's trickling...

Grunt then craned his head to look over at Hawthorne's junk. Then he reverted back to looking straight ahead, as Hawthorne tried in vain to turn away without actually moving.

The krogan let out a single guffaw. "Hah! I win!"

Grunt was now in the shower, humming an Urdnot battle chant as he scrubbed himself down thoroughly. Shepard had told him that humans liked to hum or sing in the shower, and that Grunt would fit in easier if he did the same thing. Not that Grunt particularly embraced human culture as something admirable, but if his battlemaster wanted him to hum in the shower, so be it. Besides, Grunt had to admit, he felt something oddly spiritual while humming fighting songs inside a hot steaming cloud.

Crewman Rolston, a pleasant middle-aged sensor technician with a balding hairline, walked into the bathroom in sandals, beach shorts, and a towel over his shoulder. He briefly waved to the showering krogan. "Hey there, Grunt."

A brief nod to the human. "Rolston."

Rolston started whistling as he headed over to his locker. "Whoops!" He was surprised to find his locker door already open. That's odd, he wondered to himself. Did he leave it open from yesterday?

He then realized that his bottle of body wash was no longer in his locker. Instead, the bottle was sitting inside Grunt's hands, and the krogan was generously squirting its contents all over his plated body.

"Ah, Grunt?"

The krogan stopped for a moment, and stared at Rolston. "Yeah?"

"I couldn't help but notice that you, uh, found some body wash to use."

"Yeah, I found it in one of those metal boxes over there. It smelled pretty good, so I thought I might try it out."

"Yes, well, you see -"

The bottle exploded inside the krogan's grip, the remnants of its contents flying everywhere in the room. A few of the wayward droplets landed on Rolston's shiny mist-laced forehead.

"Whoops!" Grunt was sincerely surprised by the soap-based pyrotechnics, as he held the mangled bottle up to one of his eyes for inspection. "Hmm, this container was flimsier than I expected it to be." He lowered the bottle and looked back at Rolston. "What did you want to say?"

Rolston took note of the pieces of crumbled plastic inside Grunt's hands. Then the human smiled wanly, as he started crying on the inside. "Ah, it's nothing. I was just going to say, the body wash does smell pretty nice."

"Oh, yeah! Smells terrific!" Grunt nodded enthusiastically as he poured the last drippings of the body wash into his mouth. He gargled for a few seconds, swished it around his cheeks, then spat everything out. "Tastes pretty damn good, too." He offered the broken bottle to Rolston. "You want to try?"

Rolston was fighting back real tears now. "I'm good... thanks for asking..."

"No problem." Grunt tossed aside the bottle and stepped out of the shower area, the water automatically shutting off upon his departure. He started humming again, for he was in good spirits. His ding-a-ling was behaving now, no longer erect and no longer a concern. His body smelled good. His breath smelled good. He was getting along with his squishy battle kin. What more could a krogan ask for?

The soaking wet Grunt strolled past Rolston to the lockers, and he started opening up doors. The krogan was searching for something...

"Ah ha!" Grunt pulled out a towel from one of the opened lockers. "Look, now I have found a towel!" He shot the equivalent of a Krogan grin at Rolston. "Must be my lucky day, huh?"

"Yeah. Must be."

Grunt continued humming, as he headed for the exit, wiping himself down. Nodding in farewell. "Rolston."

The human limply waved goodbye, as he watched the krogan walk out with the towel and head for the mess hall.

Thirty seven minutes later, Grunt was sitting inside Kelly Chambers' quarters, a small, tidy, and ergonomic room that doubled as her counseling office. Sitting across from him was Kelly Chambers herself with a digi-pad in her hands, the perky redheaded human female who interviewed every crew member once a week to evaluate their mental health. This meeting was an exception, though. Kelly had requested that he meet with her earlier this week, and Grunt wasn't sure why. Guess he was about to be find out, he said to himself.

"Good morning, Grunt." Kelly smiled warmly as she reached out to pat him on the knee. "How are you doing today?"

He nodded. "Shaman." Although she was officially a yeoman and unofficially a counselor, Grunt always called her shaman, his reasoning being that she was the spiritual guide of the Normandy crew. Which wasn't altogether untrue, really.

He shifted in his chair with an air of irritation, and she picked up on it immediately. "Grunt, just curious, do you have to be someplace else after this meeting?"

"Well, not really, but..." The krogan scowled unconsciously as he shifted again in his chair. "I always spend my Tuesdays doing strength training. Not a big fan of this talking stuff. When we talk, it reminds me of the tank and how much it talked to me."

"Grunt, I understand that you want to keep yourself in top physical condition, but your mental health is just as important as your physical health. Believe me, these talks are helping you a great deal."

"If you say so." He lifted one of his hands and started to examine his claws. "What do you want to talk about today, then?"

"Actually, I called for this meeting because I've been receiving a few complaints from your fellow crew members recently."

"Complaints?" Grunt stopped studying his claws, and his shoulders hunched forwards, body coiling into a snarl. "Who has a problem with me? Who?"

The krogan's voice had lowered into a threatening rumble, and Kelly nervously laughed as she hastily said, "No, Grunt, don't misunderstand! The people here have no problem with you yourself! It's just that, you've been doing certain things lately which are not customary on a human star ship, and people have mentioned them to me."

"Oh. I see. Human customs." Grunt visibly relaxed, as did Kelly. "Well, that is strange. No one has mentioned anything to me recently."

"Well, Grunt, please understand, some people do find you to be intimidating. Hence their reluctance to express any misgivings towards you."

"If they are afraid of me, then they are cowards. Cowards who are not worthy of respect."

Kelly sighed. "You know what, Grunt? Let's do this. I will tell you what you have been doing lately that is considered strange to humans. Then afterward, we can determine if you want to stop doing those things. Is that okay?"

"Well, it still sounds like a bunch of people have a problem with me." He snorted. "Whatever. Tell me what you have to say."

"Thank you, Grunt. Well, first off..." She looked down at the list on her digi-pad, and her face reddened a tad. "People have been telling me that on occasion, they have found you walking around with a, um... an, um... an erection?" She winced as the word finally rolled out of her mouth. "Is that true?"

"Oh, about that." Grunt nodded in understanding now as he patted his crotch, where his ding-a-ling was currently hiding in its hidey-hole. "For the past couple days, my penis has been experiencing extended periods of localized muscle stiffness, and I have to admit, I am baffled as to the cause. I have not suffered any recent injury in that area, and there is no real pain or discomfort." The krogan threw his hands up in the air. "Right now, I believe it is merely muscle spasms of some sort. It will probably come to pass, I am not really concerned."

Kelly sat there in disbelief, wondering if, somehow, this was all a giant practical joke on her. Then she slowly asked: "Grunt, please do not take offense to this question, but... do you know what your penis is for?"

The krogan started to laugh. Hard. As in, laughing-while-holding-his-belly hard. He was laughing so hard, as a matter of fact, that tears would have started coming out of his eyes if krogans had tear ducts.

"Ahahahaha, shaman! Of course I know what it is for! You are very funny for a human, ahahahahahaha!"

She started laughing too. Mostly out of nervousness, afraid that he might get mad if she didn't laugh along with him. "Ahahaha, Grunt, I'm sorry, but, ahahaha, could you please, um, tell me what your penis does?"

Grunt managed to gather himself and stop laughing, but he was still chortling as he answered, "It is for urination, of course!"

Kelly nodded in agreement. "Yes, that is true, Grunt." She waited. "And?"

Grunt stopped smiling his equivalent of a Krogan smile. "And? And what?"

"And..." She gestured with her hands, wanting more. "You know..."

He crooked an eye at her in confusion, then suddenly realized what she meant. "Oh yes. How could I forget. Your penis size can also be displayed as a sign of dominance over another male who possesses a lesser penis. I have noticed that when I meet other men in the bathroom, they always assume a posture of submissiveness when they see my penis."

"Well, I suppose that is another purpose of the penis." Her face was aflame due to the topic at hand, but she stayed professional, as she gently encouraged him further. "Is there anything else you can think of, Grunt?"

"Hmm." The krogan closed his eyes, and he tapped into the vast wealth of knowledge which his creator, the maniacal Warlord Okeer, had imprinted into his brain during his time in the tank. Thousands upon thousands of various hand-to-hand combat techniques used by the Krogan, the Turians, the Salarians, the Asari, the humans, the Batarians, the Elcor, the Drell... thousands upon thousands of schematics and specifications of various weaponry wielded by the Krogan, the Turians, the Salarians, etc etc... battlefield layouts. Optimal firing lanes. Ideal ambush locations. Implications of weather on fighting conditions. The smells and tastes of nearly three thousand poisons...

But he could not think of anything even remotely related to his penis. Other than a warning to look out for a human combat tactic called "a swift kick to the quad".

He opened his eyes. "I can not think of anything else, shaman."

Kelly was trying really hard not to giggle. Awww, this was so cute! Apparently, this krogan boy had not yet had "that talk" with anyone. This hulking krogan was still mentally a juvenile, after all. Someone would have to explain to him what adults liked to do in their spare time.

Her face was still, but he could tell that she was amused by his lack of knowledge about his penis, which irked him immensely. Damn, he hated know-it-alls like this red-crested squishy.

"Grunt, let me ask you another question. Have you been thinking about female krogan lately?"

His irritation gave way to surprise. "I have been dreaming about one in my sleep for the past two nights. How did you know?"

"Oh, just a hunch." Kelly sat back in her chair, as she typed away on her digi-pad. "What did you think of her?"

His voice turned dreamy. "She was so beautiful. She was so strong. So brutal. She killed so many turians..."

"Did you communicate with this female krogan in your dreams?"

"Yes, we did talk to each other." Grunt's face somehow became peaceful, as he drifted away to a better place. "She always compliments me on my fighting prowess, and then I ask her if she would bear my children, and then she says, yes, she will bear my children..."

Kelly probed further. "Do you then engage in sexual intercourse with her?"

"Well, I want to, but then the dream always ends before I can lie down with her. And then... wait. I just had a thought." The krogan blinked. "I just realized that I do not know how to make children with her."

"Grunt, I think your body does know. It's been telling you for the past two days."

"It has? Wait, I... I understand. My penis." Grunt jumped out of his chair at this revelation. "My penis! It is the key to making children with female krogan, isn't it!"

"Yes, it is, Grunt." Kelly was immensely relieved now as she typed her professional opinion into the digi-pad's report. So, Grunt was not some exhibitionist sexual deviant, as she had feared; he was merely a child who was unfamiliar with the methods of reproduction and the impropriety of exposed genitalia. All he needed was a few pointers, and he would be all right.

"Shaman." The krogan was pulling out his ding-a-ling now. "Could you please show me how I make children with my penis?"

"I will send you some educational videos, and you can watch them when you waaaaaaaaaant oh my, Grunt!" She whooped as she finally looked up to see the krogan holding himself in his hands. "Grunt! What are you doing!"

"I was hoping you could show me how to make children?"

Her face turned redder than her hair, as she tried to not look at his imposing ding-a-ling. "Grunt, please, put it away! Watch the videos, the videos will show you everything you need to know!"

"Oh. Okay." Grunt stuffed his ding-a-ling back into its hidey-hole. "It is strange, shaman. Daniels reacts the exact same way as you do when I have my penis out."

Kelly was hardly surprised to hear that, as she tried to compose herself as best she could. "Grunt, please sit down and listen very carefully to what I have to say." He obliged, and she said, "Grunt, while you are on this ship, you will need to start wearing clothes from now on."

The krogan was confused. "Why would I need to wear armor on the ship? Are we expecting an attack soon on this ship?"

"No, that is not the reason why." Kelly's body temperature and facial color was almost normal now. "Grunt, many alien societies - including yours, I'm sure - consider sexual intercourse to be a very private and intimate act between a male and a female. Sexual intercourse is not something which those two people should openly share with others."

Grunt was starting to understand what she was driving at. "So, when I show my penis to you and Daniels... you interpret it as a sign that I want to lie down with you?"

Her body temperature and facial color skyrocketed once again. "Yes, Grunt, when you display your genitalia to a female, it can be mistaken as a, um, a sign of... courtship?"

"Ahahahaha!" The krogan was laughing hard again, doubling over in his chair. "Shaman, you are truly the most hilarious of my battle kin! Aharharhar!"

She was a little confused. "What do you find so amusing?"

"Look, shaman, nothing against you or Daniels, but you two are ugly. Hideous. Repulsive. No krogan would ever want to lay with you."

Kelly momentarily lost herself, as she almost screeched, "What, me? Hideous?"

"Of course! Just look at you. Your eyes are too close to each other. Your head crest is nothing but a clump of flimsy red strands. Your legs are far too straight like a tree trunk. Your chest has those two grotesque tumor-like bumps. And your hands." He shuddered in revulsion. "Your hands are the worst."

Not sure why she felt so offended by a krogan calling her ugly, she looked down at her well-manicured hands. "What? What's wrong with my hands?"

"Too many fingers. With ten fingers and ten toes, it looks like you have squids for hands and feet."

"My hands are not squids!"

"Squids have ten legs, correct?'

"Well, yes, but -"

"Then you have squids for hands." Grunt crossed his arms with finality. Discussion was over.

"Well, whatever! Maybe I'm ugly by krogan standards, but by human standards, I'm pretty darn hot, if I say so myself!"

"Whatever. I don't care if the male squishies fall over each other while trying to lay with you."

Kelly huffed and puffed, but she managed to calm herself down. Okay, this Krogan boy was turning into a Krogan brat real fast. "Well, Grunt, regardless of whether I am ugly or not, you need to start wearing clothing on this ship. Could you please at least agree to that?"

"I still do not quite understand why my penis offends you human females. Are you not impressed by its size?"

She exclaimed with a half-lie: "Of course not!"

"Ah, I see. So human females have very high standards when it came to penis size."

"No, that's not what I meant." She was on the verge of pulling out her hair in frustration. "Please, Grunt, please just start wearing clothes. Your battlemaster Shepard would want you to wear clothes. Trust me on this."

"He would?" The krogan was not so sure about that. "He never said anything about it before."

"Well, that was before your... your thing started hanging out for everyone to see. Please, just ask Shepard. If he says you must wear clothes, will you do it?"

"But if a krogan becomes too dependent on his armor, he will lose touch with his natural gifts for fighting, for survival! He will become far too dependent on technology and end up like a Quarian, unable to defeat his own creations or even simple pathogens!"

"You only have to wear your armor when you are around other people. If you are alone in your room, you can take the armor off. Please, Grunt, this is the way of a human clan. As your spiritual guide, I am simply trying to advise you of our customs."

The krogan grumbled under his breath, but he nodded. "Very well, shaman. I will respect the customs of my battle kin while I am on this ship."

A flood of relief throughout Kelly Chambers, as she sagged inside her chair. "Thank you, Grunt. Thank you."

"So, what else did you wish to talk about?"

She really didn't have the energy for another ten minutes of this. "You know what? How about we stop here, and we can continue our discussion next week?"

"Great! More time for strength training." Grunt stood up and nodded to her in farewell. "Shaman."

END OF CHAPTER

Author's Note: As you can tell with this chapter, I am trying to explore what an alien child might experience while growing up in a human environment. Such a child would certainly not have a sense of human etiquette or propriety unless instructed, and I doubt Okeer imprinted anything other than krogan history and fighting techniques into Grunt's head. I also tried to convey how aliens might view humans in terms of sexual attractiveness, because let's face it, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. As for Grunt not knowing what his weewee does, well, I'm pretty sure none of us knew exactly how to make babies until we saw "instructional multimedia" or we had "that talk" with our mom or dad.

Please leave any feedback or thoughts if you have any. Thanks. :-)