I awoke with a splitting headache at the bottom of a pile of female bodies. Extracting myself gently from the tangle of svelte limbs took an uncommon level of dexterity, but even in my diminished state I had dex to spare.
Not even a moment after I took some hair of the dog, a horrid banging started on the motel door.
"Kill that motherfucker!" Jack groaned from somewhere in the pile of women we had assuredly delivered to the height of pleasure the previous night.
In truth I could hardly remember what we'd done after we started partying on the Citadel in celebration of Vido's death .
I opened the door to find a batarian with a thin warpaint mustache and a pair of dueling swords, one of which he thrust into my hand.
"Hello," he nearly whispered, "My name is Jallak Ro'Shad. You killed my father, prepare to die."
He then backed away into the motel parking lot and took up his dueling stance, turning his body to minimize his presented profile. I took some time to inspect the blade - a fine asari piece both sturdy and lethally sharp - more amused by the obvious Princess Bride reference than confused by the situation. Like him, I took up a left handed dueling stance - not because of a natural left handedness, but so I wouldn't miss the chance for the double reveal of our right handedness.
I think the scene would be more pleasing to the quickly gathering viewers if I wasn't hanging pipe for all to see. Or perhaps less pleasant considering the incredibly hefty aesthetic of my penis.
"Why the swords?" I asked him.
"Because, it is still legal to kill a man in an honor duel so long as swords of equal and specific quality are used." Jallak explained.
"You people don't have honor." I refuted and spat on the pavement.
"Your speciesism impugns your own honor. Not mine." He verbally countered.
"Touché." I admitted and we began the duel.
We started by testing range, a matter of footwork and angles. Despite my hefty mass, I was as light on my feet as my opponent, and prevented him from taking any advantages at this stage of the dance. Quickly seeing that he could not find the footing for an easy victory, our duel became a matter of hand speed and form. His four eyes meant he could more easily see through any feints and fakes, but my vastly superior strength meant that even if he led my sword to a poor position my hasty blocks would always be superior to his strikes.
Ultimately, the fight was decided by a leg kick. While his attention was focused on my sword aiming for his head, I snuck in a quick kick that destroyed his knee and drove my sword twice into his chest while he fell, perforating both of his lungs.
Jallak Ro'Shad drowned in his own blood attempting to avenge a father who I would likely never remember killing.
I would remember Jallack for bringing me a pair of dope swords.
Jack joined me in the shower after my triumphant return.
"What's with the swords, babe?" she asked as she soaped up my back.
"Apparently I killed someone's dad and he came to duel me to the death with swords." I explained, "Pretty neat if you ask me. You know any of them girls?"
"I can't remember anything after we started the party." Jack cemented the hangover situation we found ourselves in.
Fortunately there wasn't a tiger in the bathroom. Space Mike Tyson would probably be even scarier than Iron Mike Tyson.
I turned on the news as we toweled off and saw a scene of me and Jack doing double bicep poses with a bunch of C-Sec officers in front of a dry docked yacht, not a space yacht, a seafaring yacht.
"We are now in our third week of the controversial Spectres Gatatog Jack and Grunt's war on crime. The yacht seen here is the latest in a wave of civil forfeitures enacted by the duo with the aid of C-Sec. The owner of said yacht, Kishan Ro'Shad, was slain while resisting arrest for charges of operating a child prostitution ring."
"Ha," I barked smugly, "I fucking told him so!"
"Told him what, babe?" Jack asked me while pulling on her punk rock clothing.
"That batarians don't have honor." I answered then shouted, "Holy shit, we've been partying for three weeks!"
"No way!" Jack denied.
I checked the date on my data pad and confirmed that we'd been partying for three weeks.
"Not only that, but we somehow became Spectres." I told her in disbelief.
"That would be my fault." spoke up an older asari that worked her way out of the sex ball on the bed.
"Holy shit, babe, one of the hos is the Asari Councilor!" I announce in shock.
"I'd be pissed at you if you two weren't the sex." she said before getting a drink from the mini bar.
"How the hell did this happen?" Jack looked completely gobsmacked at the naked body of one of the most powerful politicians in space.
"I met you at a dinner party hosted by Councilor Anderson." She began the tale, "You were both high as kites, but turned out to be the most interesting conversation partners I've had in years. A few drinks and a foolish desire to relive my maiden years and I brought you both home for a night of the most wild and passionate intercourse in of my life. I'll plead temporary insanity if anyone pressures me on it, but you convinced me to railroad you into the Spectres. I thought I'd committed political suicide, but my popularity has never been higher. I went from a boring lifelong bureaucrat to a maverick who doesn't care about the rules, but gets the job done. You both laughed your asses off about ripping off bad crime drama vids when you fed that line to the media, but it's stuck around harder than my new need for smooth krogan cock."
The way she rubbed her lower belly got me nervous.
"We didn't, eh, make a baby? Did we?" I asked her.
"No," She denied, "no way would I step on T'Loak's toes like that. No krogan super babies for me." she chuckled, "Now the most powerful human biotic, on the other hand."
"I'm going to be a mom?" Jack asked in bewilderment.
"More a dad, as you are the father." the Councilor explained.
"Metal." Jack nodded in pleasure.
Jack and I high fived over impregnating two of the most powerful asari in space. Now if we can seduce Liara after she becomes the Shadow Broker we'll have the hat trick.
We spent the day getting to know Jack's baby mama and starting off our detox cycle. Spending three weeks on a chem and liquor fueled rampage kinda required us to either get clean or take a mountain of drugs with us. The later was a distinct possibility as we destroyed two drug cartels during our three week war on crime and took their whole stock as 'evidence', but we kinda live on my Space Mama's ship and there is now way in hell I'd ever leave a stash around for her to find.
We ran into Zaeed while returning to the Normandy as he was dropped off by a human woman. Red hair late thirties, but still keeping everything tight. Nice, bro.
"What are you looking at?" He growled at my bald lover.
"That looked very domestic." Jack accused.
"Forgive me for having a tender affair while you two jagoffs ran around like a pair of demented toddlers on a sugar rush." the old merc snarked then pulled out a datapad and sent us a message, "By the way, the wedding photos are in. Was a lovely time Mr. and Mrs. Gatatog."