Hey, guys! Guess what? MOAR ASARI ORGIES! Featuring a MALE SHEPARD! *GASP*
Juvenile? Yep.
Unadulterated Male Fantasy? Yep.
Do I care? Nope.
And you fellas wouldn't have it any other way. So sit back and enjoy some more asari sexings done by a manlier-than-manly space marine who is fulfilling his destiny to be the next Captain Kirk. First: the Citadel, then: THESSIA! And perhaps Rannoch, Earth, Kar'Shan… Basically: Fuck ALL the space babes!
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Shepard always knew that saving the Destiny Ascension was the best course of action. Had he allowed the asari dreadnought to be overwhelmed and destroyed, the Citadel Council would have been lost along with the ship and its ten thousand crew members. The resulting power vacuum would have only caused political instability to spread throughout Citadel Space, something very much unwanted due to the imminent reaper invasion.
Humanity, despite their victory over the reaper vanguard, Sovereign, would have lost clout with the other races, seen as little more than scheming cut-throats who were willing to sacrifice everyone else for their own gain.
The Systems Alliance would have gained power that was for certain. With none of the Council races in any shape to argue, the Alliance would have had the chance to take control of the Council themselves, at least for a short time, long enough to secure their position.
Had there been someone more opportunistic in Shepard's place on that day in the Council Chambers, this would have most definitely occurred. Humanity would have been seen as a species to be feared, if only for their conniving ways.
But Commander Robert Shepard was an honorable man and thus saw no honor in betraying the people he had sworn to protect. Neither did he see honor in gaining political power at the cost of ten thousand innocent lives. Rob made his decision without a second thought: the Destiny Ascension was to be saved, the Council secured.
There had been many, many people who were not happy with the outcome of the "Battle for the Citadel". The human fleets had lost a third of their ships rescuing a Council that had a habit of ignoring them, Eden Prime being a prime example of such neglect. The fact that the Systems Alliance walked away with their very own Council seat did little to pacify these mouthy politicians.
These very same loud-mouth bureaucrats were the ones who would later call out the Commander for his decisions, calling his morals, his sense of right and wrong, naïve, telling him that his code of honor was "outdated" and "old-fashioned". The Commander saw them as the only thing keeping him sane in a galaxy where the bad guys more often than not prevailed.
Back on Elysium, one Lt. Rob Shepard proved to the galaxy that there were still heroes in the world. An army of pirates and slavers breached the colony's defenses and a little over a hundred of them made it into the tunnels that led to the underground civilian bunkers. A handful of attack drones, three turrets, several trip-mines and one angry Alliance marine were all that stood between them and their quarry.
None of them got through.
"The Lion of Elysium" is what they called him after his little tango with the slavers, "the man who stemmed the tide".
And just as it was back then, the Commander now had the public's adoration. To Shepard, it wasn't exactly surprising anymore. Who wouldn't come to idolize the "Savior of the Citadel", especially with his tale of heroism sounding like something out of one of those epic vids?
Ten thousand lives, including the galaxy's precious Council, pulled from the brink of destruction, their ship saved as three entire Alliance fleets throw themselves into the fray on Shepard's orders, swooping in at the last moment to eradicate the menacing geth invaders. Meanwhile, in the heart of the Citadel Tower, the Lion of Elysium strikes down the traitorous Saren Arterius. The dashing Commander takes control of the station's systems and opens the Citadel arms, allowing the remaining ships to obliterate the dreadnought, Sovereign.
Rob did not regret his choice. Not one bit. Humanity was a Council race now, having proven just how much they were willing to sacrifice for the galaxy at large.
The Alliance was not feared. No, the Alliance was now loved, something much more powerful. Humanity had the galaxy's acceptance, their trust. In Rob's opinion, that was worth being feared a thousand times over.
Added onto that, the galaxy was safe for now. A legion of ancient god-machines had been stopped in their tracks when Rob took control of the Citadel's systems, effectively slamming a door on their faces.
Even with hundreds, if not thousands, of innocents dead, the Commander had saved millions upon millions more. It was practically a story-book ending: the brave hero had won the day!
So, why the hell did Rob end up with the shit end of the stick? Why had he been assigned to clean-up duty out in the Terminus Systems? Why weren't the Council members preparing for the Reaper invasion?
Oh, right. The Citadel Council. Those three bureaucrats I rescued from a fiery doom.
The very same ones who would have sealed the galaxy's fate at the hands… eh, tentacles of the Reapers if they had their way.
The ones who always, always doubted the Commander on every decision he made.
The turian Councilor, an arrogant little shit, was spectacularly adept at this, having been gifted with the uncanny ability to find something Rob had done and figure out a way to chew him out for it, despite having his head shoved up his own clenched rectum.
Councilor Sparatus could go off and fuck himself sideways with Saren's robo-arm for all Rob cared.
The asari and salarain councilors, Tevos and Valern, were much better to deal with, but considering that they were being compared to a pompous jack-ass whose arrogance knew no bounds, this was not exactly an impressive feat.
From what Rob had experienced, Tevos liked to speak with long and pretty words while holding her head high, acting as if she had actually accomplished something. She had been in favor making Rob a SpecTRe, earning her some points with him, but then again, she had made the choice to ground the Normandy, too.
Valern was a schemer that much was for certain. He was also incredibly indecisive. In other words: completely useless when the Reapers arrive.
None of it was the way it was supposed to be. Rob had saved the entire galaxy! He bought everyone valuable time prepare! So why was the situation completely FUBAR?
Rob downed another shot of some batarian ale, savoring the burn as it sloshed down his gullet. The buzz in his head that followed was a plus, helping the Commander forget about Councilor Twat-head and his claim-dismissing ilk.
The bar he chose was a rather seedy joint, no better than Chora's Den in terms of quality and cleanliness. But it was quiet and relatively vacant, save for a couple of turian and the odd krogan, and that was all Rob cared for. The marine did not want to deal with the press or any of his new "fans" at the moment, not after being unceremoniously dumped into the Terminus systems by a Council who would sooner hold their head in the sand rather than face the threat of the Reapers.
He tried to get the attention of the salarian bartender, a slight green fellow whose chin seemed to disappear into his neck, with no luck. Frowning, the Commander found himself staring into the bottom of his glass.
That's when his omni-tool pinged, having received a call. Rob checked and saw that the caller was in fact, Liara. The human managed a small smile. If there was anything good that marine walked away with, it was the asari archeologist he picked up on Therum. This shy, bookish asari would later show Rob the joys of embracing eternity, effectively earning the lad his "blue wings".
Rob answered the call, a bit confused that there was only an audio link.
"Hey, Liara. No vid-link?"
The sound of Liara's laugh answered him.
"Yes, I apologize for that. My omni-tool has not been working well."
"Maybe you should have Garrus or Tali have a look. They'd have it fixed up pretty quick."
Rob could hear his girlfriend give a pleasant hum in response. Despite himself, he gave a stupid smile. The human found the asari's voice to be like honey.
"Listen, Rob, I know that you are tired and that you very much would not enjoy more meetings or political speeches, but there's someone I'd like you to meet. You remember the dreadnought you saved? The Destiny Ascension?"
"How could I forget?" Rob replied with a chuckle.
"The captain of that ship, Matriarch Lidanya, has met with me. She knew I had ties with you and wanted me to set up a meeting."
Rob scratched at his chin, his beard having grown from his neglect to trim it.
"A meeting?"
"Lidanya is very grateful, Rob. It was on your word that she and her ten-thousand subordinates are still alive today. She wants to thank you personally. I'm sending you the address of where she wants to meet. We'll be there, waiting for you. I swear that you will not regret it, Rob."
Before the Commander had a chance to reply, Liara cut the link. His omni-tool bleeped, then closed, fading back into his wrist.
Okay then. Matriarch wants to thank me for saving her. Cool.
The Commander looked himself over quickly, sniffing his breath.
And I smell like booze. Not cool.
Thinking as fast as his inebriated brain would allow him, Rob waved the salarian bartender over. This time, the thin, green alien noticed him.
"Do you have something that will get me sober?"
"Yes. Wait here, human." The salarian rumbled, his voice surprisingly deep for his species.
The alien went down to the other end of the bar and searched through shelves of many different colored bottles. He returned with what Rob hoped was a bottle of instant sobriety. The salarian popped the bottle open and poured the human a shot of clear liquid.
"Salarian made, removes alcohol from system, takes effect in thirty seconds." He said, handing it to Rob.
"Your people are geniuses." The human replied with a grin. He downed the drink quickly, tasting coconut.
Sure enough, the buzz in Rob's head faded away in less than a minute, leaving the Commander feeling more alert and focused. Paying off the bartender, the human marine left the seedy bar, throwing on his N7 jacket as he headed into the streets of the wards.
It did not take long for Rob to reach an empty elevator, something for which he was thankful. He did not enjoy the crowds in the streets.
The Commander took this opportunity to check out the address Liara had given him. He opened up his omni-tool once again and read the directions.
Rob blinked.
He read the direction again.
And again.
Rob was having a hard time believing what he was reading. The directions were telling him to go to the Consort's Chambers.
Huh. Just how "thankful" is this matriarch?
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Fortunately for Rob, it did not take very long for him to get to the Consort's Chambers. With most of the Presidium under heavy repair and high security, sky-car traffic was at an all-time low. That, combined with Rob's SpecTRe status, made it so that the human had a straight shot to where he was going.
Rob had to admit that he was delightfully curious as to how this Matriarch was going to thank him. There were not many people in the galaxy who would think it to be appropriate to formally thank someone for saving their life by meeting in a quasi-brothel owned by a –very highly respected- asari prostitute.
Liara's there, too. Maybe she just wants to say "thank you". Eh, I'll never understand asari.
As the human exited his skycar, he took in the sight of the wrecked Presidium. The massive ring to which the equally massive ward arms were attached had taken the brunt of the damage. Damage that was inflicted by the invading geth forces lead by Saren as he attempted to locate the Citadel Controls. There were still signs of battle that marked the buildings around Rob, scars from something the people were already trying to forget.
Rob frowned as he came across the odd spectacle of a couple of turian construction workers attempting to remove a geth gunship from the side of a building that had once been a hanar entrepreneur's shop. It was a solemn reminder to the Commander that no matter how hard he tried, he could not save everyone.
As the human entered Sha'ira's building, the first thing he noticed was that, aside from the fact that the lights appeared to have dimmed considerable in order to preserve energy, the brothel was relatively unscathed. Rob could not keep himself from raising his brow in surprise as he scanned the waiting room, noting only one or two scorch marks that had been cleaned the best they could have been, the only evidence left behind that a gunfight had taken place.
An asari he did not recognize, a shapely, teal woman with white markings on her forehead, came up to greet him with a warm smile on her face. With surprising tenderness, the blue woman took Rob's leather jacket from his shoulders, hanging it on a wall-hook.
"Welcome, Commander. It is a pleasure to see you," The asari spoke, her voice as soothing as velvet. She took the human by the hand, leading him through the brothel. "Ms. T'Soni and Lady Lidanya are waiting for you upstairs. I'm sure they will be just ecstatic to see that you have arrived."
Rob gave the blue woman a bemused smile as she led him across the waiting room and to the stairs, passing several mingling pairs of acolytes and customers. The Commander took note of how all of the customers appeared to be Alliance military, both male and female.
"I'm surprised that this place is still open. With everything that's happened, I'd have thought that you girls would've taken some time off."
The asari threw a glance back over her shoulder, giving the human marine a suggestive little smile as she did, her eyes warm and inviting. She said nothing, only looking the Commander over once before turning forward again, adding an extra sway to her hips as she walked him up the stairs.
"After such a draining event, the good people, especially those brave, steadfast rescuers in the Alliance fleets, are as tense as they have ever been. Just as they did their duty in protecting the likes of us, it is our duty to return the favor and show our… appreciation. Here is where they come to relax, clear their heads of stressful thoughts and find some… release from the weight of their duties, at least for a little while."
Rob quirked a small smile at the asari's not-so-subtle display.
Innuendoes, innuendoes everywhere…
"How generous of you girls to go the extra mile for our troops," Said Rob.
The asari stopped, halting the pair on the stairs leading to Sha'ira's bedchambers. Rob tore his eyes from the woman's rounded backside and took a moment to shamelessly look her over. It was only then that the human realized just how little her dress covered.
"Well, what can I say, Commander? We're givers."
The asari led Rob up the remaining steps, punching a code into the keypad when they reached the door. With a hiss, the room opened to allow the human his entry. The asari bowed and headed back downstairs, casting an envious glance towards the human.
Rob crossed the threshold, stepping inside the dimly lit bedchambers.
Dark purple curtains hung from the ceiling all around the room, giving the darkened chamber a distinct tone of royalty. A sweet smell filled the human's nostrils, one that resembled a mixture of strawberries and… something more carnal.
A fitting scent considering that this is the Consort's Chambers.
The human only managed a couple of steps before he came to the realization that whatever was in the air was affecting him. Rob felt… better, more alive. There was a feeling of warmth in his chest and in the pit of his gut, one that began to spread to his arms, his legs, his-
"Rob? Is that you? Come closer!"
He recognized that voice. Liara, whose words dribbled from her full lips like honey. His blue angel, his blue siren. Rob moved towards the source of the voice, pushing purple curtains out of his path as he did so. They felt like velvet. Sweet, soft velvet…
Finally, the human marine came across a particularly large curtain through which he could barely make out the silhouettes of three figures. He brushed the soft fabric aside and was met with a gorgeous sight.
Liara stood before him wearing a small, strapless dress, dark green in color, one that seemed to be held in place through magic alone. The tight little outfit appeared to be made out of satin, as were the gloves that went up to Liara's elbow. The whole thing hugged her form, clinging to every curve it covered, leaving nothing to the imagination. Rob decided that he loved satin.
Liara was standing in front of a large, round bed that was adorned with lavishly decorated blankets and pillows, ones that were probably more expensive than the Normandy's drive core. The blue siren was giving him this filthy look that said so many sweet things to him and yet she was still able to remain that demure, little maiden he rescued on Therum.
Whatever was in the air had done its job. Rob's heart was racing and his pants were suddenly very constricting.
Liara smiled, taking several graceful steps towards her human lover.
"Oh, Rob! I was beginning to think that you would not make it!"
Rob could only manage to give a dumb smile in return as Liara strutted over -where did Li learn to strut?- and embrace him, kissing her hero boyfriend on the cheek... then the chin… then his neck…
God, she's so warm…
Rob found his hands on Liara's waist and could not stop them from moving further down. Liara hummed against his neck, a low, sensual sound that made the human want to tear the asari out of her dress.
"Li," Rob managed to breathe out. "If I'd have known that we were supposed to get all dolled up, I would've put on something… y'know… nicer."
The once-shy asari archeologist giggled –giggled!- and pulled away, turning towards the bed, revealing that the dress she wore was backless, the dip in between her shoulders stopping just shy of her wonderful, rounded-
"Rob, there is someone who would like to meet you."
The Commander tore his eyes away from his blue girlfriend's hypnotizing rear, looking up, red-faced, to see another asari standing next to his, along with a third seated on the bed. Rob had not noticed either when he entered the room at first.
How could I? What with Li looking all like… that!
The asari next to Liara looked no older than the maiden he had taken to bed that night before Ilos, with big, purple eyes that drew the human in, shiny orbs that were only brought out by the deep crimson facial markings on the asari's cheeks and brow. She, like Liara, was giving him one of those looks that were less "nice-to-meet-you" and more "I'm-going-to-peel-your-clothes-off-with-my-teeth".
"Rob," Liara began, her voice bubbling with excitement. "This is Matriarch Lidanya. She wants to thank you personally for rescuing her ship and crew. You should be excited. When asari are grateful, we are very… grateful."
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So, here I am, writing porn about fictional aliens and saving money to buy a new laptop before this one decides that it's people need him and he offs himself along with a lot of my files.
Thankfully, I happen to like writing smut about aliens. Captain Kirk is a damned national treasure and a hero to many a young man. He is an example we should all aspire to. Get a space ship and fuck multi-colored women. Now THAT is an American dream.
I hope you enjoyed what I have so far, more to come later (heh, sex joke).
