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Chapter 5: Cream

"If you keep pounding post op pussy like this, people are going to start thinking you're some kind of professional." my aging mercenary pal said while I manned the grill making us breakfast, "But I am old enough to know better. Do you know what the hell you've done, you damn fool?"

"I am pretty sure we are on the same wavelength, but why don't you tell me anyways." I snarked back at him.

"You've thoroughly hooked up with a crazy person." Zaeed rasped out, "I'm not some teen on the net telling everyone not to stick it in crazy. I am a man who has looked crazy right in the eyes, made kinky love to it, and got stabbed the moment my gaze turned away. Where's Jack, kid?"

"She fucked off to go be creepy in the dark after we finished up." I answered him.

"Goddamn it, kid!" Zaeed hit the table, "You fucked a psycho who can rip people apart with her mind! Take this seriously before you get us all killed."

I sighed heavily, "I am fully aware of how sideways this could go, but look." I held out an empty hand, "Look how many fucks I give."

"Yeah, well if you die I have to get my food from Mess Sergeant Cockskin." Zaeed deadpanned, "That's like a whole two decks up from here."

That would suck, especially since we were on our way to the Citadel and Zaeed and I were going splitsies on an expanded pantry. The steak and eggs were getting old fast. Not that I'd stop eating them, not with the gains I was making, but I'd like to break up the monotony with a side of fruit. I'd done my research. The galaxy produced a wide variety of juicy melons and I dedicated myself to eating them all.

"Heard you pussy's talking about me." Jack said as she materialized from the shadows like a creepy vamp kid.

"Did you hear the part about when you fucked a kid?" Zaeed grinned while he threw me under the bus.

"Not cool bro!" I complained while Jack yelled out, 'The fuck you just say?'

"Did Grunty not tell you he is only a few weeks old?" Zaeed coyly asked like an asshat.

"We agreed not to talk about that in front of chicks." I pointed my disappointment at my homie.

"Is he being serious right now?" Jack looked at me confused.

"Shepard flushed him from the birthing tank on this very ship." Zaeed laughed, "Right over there." He pointed up to the Port Cargo Area.

"Are you two fucking with me?" Jack looked between us like she was 80% to a mob psycho freak out.

"No." I grunted, "And Zaeed wasn't supposed to tell ladies that I'm 21 days not years old. Jackass."

"This is so fucked up." Jack said like she'd given up on the world.

"Just don't think about it." I advised.

"How the fuck am I not supposed to think about being a kiddie fucker?" She cried out with her hands in the air like she wanted a sign from the heavens.

"I was grown and educated in a lab, so its not really kiddie fucking." I consoled her.

"Do you know how to identify a krogan juvenile?" Zaeed asked with a shit eating grin.

"Oh fuck you!" I yelled, missing my middle fingers something fierce.

Jack just looked at me with dead fish eyes.

"You see the way the armored plates haven't fused into solid pieces." Zaeed laughed as he pointed, "That's how."

I slammed two metal plates down full of steak and eggs for them.

"You are on thin ice, old man." I growled.

I came back with four pounds of red meat and five dozen fried eggs for myself. We ate in silence.

Our trip to the Citadel saw us splitting up right out of the gate. The Commander and the Cerberus goon squad went to recruit Kasumi Goto and get Shepard reinstated as a Specter while Zaeed, Garrus, and I went out to get food. Jack stayed on the ship, hanging out in the dark. Garrus got me registered with C-Sec and turned me loose on an unsuspecting space station as he needed to stock up on supplies conducive to amino dextro survival.

I was honestly stunned by the scope of the Citadel, the games did a poor job of conveying the gravity of a station that houses 13.2 million people. The central ring is 7.2 kilometers wide and the arms are 43.6 kilometers long. The station is enormous and filled to the brim with clashing culture. The glowing signs of businesses competed with the flash of VI's and the constantly running advertisements. The place was an epileptic killzone.

Fortunately, Zaeed managed to guide my slack jawed ass to where we needed to go and even conducted our business while I stood around in full tourist mode. As we made our way back to the Normandy I stopped outside a small clothing store.

A clothing store owned by a krogan, that served krogan.

If I was some wish SI jackass, one of my wishes would have been this store. A one stop shop for tank tops, shorts, and sandals. I loaded up on everything and stopped in front of the selection of underwear.

"These." the owner handed me a pack of briefs with a small grin on his face, "Your quad will thank me later."

I stocked up on those.

"You got good skin, kid." The guy told me and continued before it could get weird, "Go visit my brother down the way, he'll hook you up with every thing you need to keep from looking like a dried out scrotum."

Settling up hurt me inside, but I knew I wouldn't be finding another supplier of clothing that both fit me and didn't feel like a single tug would tear it to pieces. The proprietor pushed a good product, and I followed his advice and found his brother's shop.

"Good, good!" Called out the krogan who ran this joint, "Finally someone comes to me young enough to save his good looks. Too few of us take care of ourselves before it is too late! Come, come. I will make you silky smooth!"

What happened next was a master class in krogan hygiene, skin, and shell care. Okeer should have got this guy to help make his education program, because the man was fount of knowledge. We talked about everything from preventing the natural browning of my skin (young krogan have much more colorful skin than their older counterparts including yellow and green stripes) to applying shell wax with power tools. It made me laugh that even the more feminine side of being a krogan was still hardcore.

I left that shop with a handshake, a new delivery for the Normandy, and a pissed off merc.

"Sometimes I feel proud of you, like a father for a son." Zaeed scowled at me, "This is not one of those times."

Commander Shepard entered the Port Cargo Area to find me face down naked while a combat drone worked my lower back with an angle grinder sporting a polishing wheel. It felt incredible.

"I need you to suit up Grunt." She ordered while keeping her eyes on my face, "We are near a colony being hit by the collectors and Mordin's countermeasure for the seeker swarms is ready."

"Good." I barked, "Time to show those insectoid freaks who's the boss, but you could have told me that on the intercom. What's up?"

"Are you and Jack going to be a problem in the field?" She asked professionally about our very unprofessional relationship.

"We're solid." I denied all possibility of dysfunction, "Zaeed dropped a bomb on her, but we kissed and made up."

"That's good, Grunt." Shepard just shook her head in amusement, "You two will be backing Garrus as Beta Team when we move against the collectors with Zaeed. We need everything to be operating at 100% for this mission. Every crack we get at the collectors needs to hurt."

"We'll bring the pain." I nodded.

Horizon, our first beef with the collectors. I couldn't wait.


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
JManM JManM

Both my wife and my brother wanted more action. So I did an entire slice of life chapter to show them I will not cooperate with anyone.

Just kidding.

The pattern of one interstial chapeter between missions isn't going to change, so I got this chapter out early so we can get right to the violence with our normal Friday release. Horizon is a fairly girthy mission, so it might take two chapters to get through it, but they will both drop this weekend.

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