Preface:

It gets weirder.

Most of this chapter was written in the year 2014 or 2015.

Enjoy.

CHAPTER 2

Battling With Friends

Commander Shepard, who had previously been standing on the deck of his ship and furiously masturbating whilst violently whistling at his crew when they happened to walk by, was now standing in a strange yet intimidating pose. It was strange mostly because his dick was hanging out of his fly, which was a sign to his crew that he was either about to take a huge shit or fight a big battle. But really, is there any difference to our hero Commander Shepard?

Based Shepard was shouting loudly at his crew. This was his moment to shine in the big battle. However, his shouting became groany whispers as he found after 4 hours of doing so that he'd lose his voice. Remember, they're in space, and flying through space takes a while, especially when everyone's texting while piloting. ANYWAY BACK TO THE STORY

The Reapers had finally woken up from draining the internet of all smut, which of course reminded Shepard of his motives, and shook his resolve. What was he here to save: Earth, or the Internet? Then Shepherd socked himself in the exposed penis as he told himself that the Internet took over Earth years ago. Earth was the Internet. Silly Shepard.

As Kelly came over to wipe Commander Sheffield's nose, he blew a snot bubble big enough that it engulfed the whory Miss Chambers, and she became trapped in a snot bubble, the likes of which had never been seen before, or ever again. Of course, this aroused Shepard to no end, but he had enough restraint to focus on the serious task at hand: stopping the Reapers from draining the Earth's porn supply.

He saw a big green light again, and as it turned out, the Breath Star had big ass deflector shields and was taking potshots at whatever it could see. Unfortunately, it was super inaccurate because no one thought to build windows in the Death Star. This architecture pleased the Geth, so eventually they went to the Empire's side because they were prejudiced enough to believe that people who didn't believe in windows were the superior race. The Geth, due to their outdated dual-core processors (didn't even use hyperthreading wat noobs amirite?), couldn't fully comprehend how shitty the Empire was before making this collective decision. Legion then threw himself out the airlock before saying, "insufficient regrets", which made the crew chortle because #YOLO.

To start the attack, however, Shepard needed that old bald dude in the saucer. He looked around his map, but didn't see it. When he finally found the Enterprise, it was sitting way back behind the rest of the front line and was mingling with the shittier fleets, like the elcor, hanar, and cartoon characters. This is a war, goddamn it, Shepard thought. What the ass are those cucks doing back there?

The Normandy was kind of old in comparison to the brand-spankin' new Enterprise-E and antimatter cores are objectively better than mass effect ones, so the Enterprise could catch up to the Normandy at any point. In fact, the Normandy was pretty far out from the battle too, they were just going as fast as they can and getting nowhere. Remember, the only reason that humans go fast in spaceships is because of cool shit the Protheans and Reapers left them, like Massive Relays. Shepard's guys actually kind of blow in comparison to Starfleet officers. Those guys actually run ships with professionalism, organization, and class. Frankly, they could probably beat the Reapers pretty easily.

The USS Enterprise was an absolute fucking mess. Captain Picard was asleep in boredom at the subplot of this mission, which involved something about Data and Charles Dickens or some shit like that. Worf was jerking off to his own indecision about if he should be anti- or pro-porn like his Klingon buddies (who still fucking hate his guts anyway). Geordi was trying to bang his holographic waifu (who is actually a real person that he got rejected by that one time). Wesley, who just got back from his vision quest with an alien pedophile man, had just been told off by the captain for the 12th time today, and was busy trying to stop the ship from exploding, because apparently the best ship in Starfleet can't operate normally for at least more than 3 minutes. Commander Riker was in his room banging some chick who he saw in the hallway, before realizing it was some parasitic alien who absorbed his dick tissue, but hey, it was the 24th century, and that means everything can be solved, and he had a new dick just in time for his booty call with Counselor Troi. So yeah, it was a normal day.

After a few well-placed speeches and "make it so"s, El Capitan Dickyard decided his job was over for the day and went to do yoga or some rich people shit. Riker was on his last Viagra, so pretty much every living thing on the ship had its asshole stretched by the end of the evening. This meant that Data was the acting captain, and he just didn't give a shit, so he decided to boost the Enterprise's swag output (which was Geordi's plan all along) to let everyone know that their ship actually existed and was doing something to help fight the incredible battle happening around them. Shepard, aboard the Normandy, noticed this and became rightly enthused simply because he took a liking to the quantization of swag. Shepard is SoO0oo rAnD0m !

After getting rejected by a ship-building hologram waifu with a hot mole, Chief Engineer Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge was sullenly on transporter duty. Ever since Transporter Chief O'Brien quit to settle down with his Yoko of a wife, everyone had to take turns doing the transporter because no one on the ship full of thousands of people wanted to have a job that miserable. At the height of his anime angst, Geordi decided he would go back to Engineering and fondle the engine a little bit, leaving transporter room 3 unmanned.

Oh no! A breach of Starfleet Protocol! What could possibly go wrong?

Back on the Century Hawk, the gang was solving a mystery. They called it "how do you get on the motherfucking Death Star", and it was puzzling them. The sullustan in the copilot seat, who was so obviously and borderline racistly being portrayed as mexican, shook the tassels on his sombrero as Tie-Dye fighters shot their glowing wads all over the ship. "Hey man this thing's a piece of trash, hombre," he exclaimed, wiping the cigarette ash off his poncho. Chewie agreed wholeheartedly with a subsonic rumble of his massive hairy balls. This ride needed some sick upgrades! Chewster could just imagine the spinning rims, the sick hydraulics, the nitrous-

Hey, wait! Che\/\/ie had an idea! Back in Tattoo Land, he had bought some nitrous from some pimp named Jibber the Shack, or something like that. Chewie had been saving that 3 million credits for cancer treatments for his dying uncle Zaalbar, but he decided that Zaalbar was a chump anyway because he rolled with a gay-ass crew (like srsly, since when do we let girls in the crew?). Chewie ran to the cargo hold, passing Leia, whom he believed not to be a person, but only a piece of ass for him to chew (thus, his name), which bothered Leia, but she had gotten used to blatant misogyny ever since she realized she was living in the 1970s. Chewer grabbed the big can labeled N2O and ran up to Han, barking in spanish (Gonzales the sullustan had taught him). Han instantly understood. "Oh hell naw", he exclaimed with a smile as he examined the bitchin' canister. By the time he looked back up, Chewie was already in full spacesuit. He grabbed the can and ran out the airlock.

"Godspeed, son. Godspeed."