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[b][u][center]Rescue Operation[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]Chapter 1: Where to Start[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]For bbbuuu[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

Azen panted as he hung from one of the ‘medical’ racks in the back of the Blue Suns’ hideout. The sheer discomfort of hanging from his ankles and wrists hadn’t quite gone to full-blown pain yet, but that was because the Salarian was getting regular drug injections that made it hard to think. He shivered as he felt some of the tingles and flames crawling through his veins, burning at his awareness at all moments of the day and reminding him just what had happened to turn his life upside-down.

[i]I shouldn’t have helped them. I should have left…should have done something, anything else to get out of there. This was all my stupid fault. Gotta…gotta keep thinking. Can’t let them…stop me thinking.[/i]

But the drugs were making it so hard compared to what it used to be. He wanted to just lay there, to let his thoughts float away and not think about the world around him. It would be so easy to just sleep in this strange bliss that the chemical cocktails in his veins brought him, and just let the world be forgotten.

And it was the sheer terror that brought him that kept him from giving in, so far. He would not go for the thought-death. He wouldn’t let himself fade away like that. He was not the whore that they kept calling him. He was a proud Salarian in his own right, and he would keep his mind. He would keep himself.

The door to the medical bay opened, and the Batarian known as the Medic stepped through. The multi-eyed alien took one look at him and shook his head.

“Fighting, still? Not gonna matter for much longer.”

Azen ignored the statement, forcing his attention to the drug cabinet that the Batarian opened. There were so many bottles and vials and who knew what else in there, so many that would have some sort of effect on his body if he let himself get fucked up by them. He shivered as the Medic pulled out a whole handful, sweeping a whole collection into his grip before starting to sort through them. The fact that the thug didn’t even bother looking at the labels told him that either the Batarian knew them all by heart or simply didn’t care what sort of thing got added to the cocktail already inside of him.

[i]Just focus on something else. You are a Salarian. You have a mind, use it.[/i]

There were many problems to solve, such as how he was going to be able to move when he was finally put down from the racks, how he would be able to use his body properly for any sort of business if they kept torturing him like this, how he would be able to dance or anything if there was nerve damage from the tight restraints. He twitched, pulling his weight around and settling it in different ways, trying to adjust to keep from hurting himself, but it was hard with the amount of drugs messing him up and leaving him unsure of where the pain actually was.

He kept forcing himself to ignore the Batarian as the Medic walked around him, trying to keep his mind somewhere else besides the fact that there was a needle that was going to be sliding into him at some point. Probably near his ass, if the past was any measure of what would happen. The Batarian seemed to like sliding needles into his –

“NNGH!”

Azen bit his lip, but it made no difference as the whimper slipped past anyway. The needle had been shoved right into the rim of his asshole, shooting something inside of him that he didn’t want to think about. The fact that there was a blunt finger rubbing right around his hole a second afterwards, and that his ass was so very sensitive, didn’t make him feel better about it at all.

The Medic chuckled, sliding that finger in, and it took everything that Azen had not to moan. His cock slipped free regardless, drooping down for a few seconds before starting to rise up, running parallel to his belly. The Medic gave it a slap, not hard, but enough for him to be aware of his own arousal.

“It’s not going to take much longer to break you, Salarian. You are going to be a slave to your own body, soon enough. Thinking isn’t going to save you.”

Azen already knew that. There was only so much that falling back into his own thoughts could do, but he knew that he had to buy himself some time somehow. There was only so long that it would take Oscar or the others to find out that he was missing and come after him…he hoped. That message had been sent out two days ago, and he didn’t know if the Quarians would come to give it to Oscar, or if the message would even get as far as the Quarians. All he could do was hope.

As the Batarian continued to finger him, tormenting his asshole with the teasing stimulation of such pleasure, the door to the medbay opened again. This time…it was the Boss.

Azen shivered as the Turian stepped forward, turning his head to the side to avoid having to look at the man that had brought such ruin on him. The feeling of the armored fingers stroking the side of his face only added to his humiliation as the Boss chuckled.

“I told you that resistance would be punished, Whore. You have no one to blame but yourself for this treatment.”

“Mmmph…I am still…myself. I am still Azen. Not Whore.”

“For now.”

The Turian sat down at the edge of the table beneath him, the exam table already a bit splattered with the Salarian’s pre and already getting a bit damp from another layer of it. The big guy didn’t seem to mind, and only stretched out further, smearing it around with the boots of his armor.

“So, who did you send the message to, Whore?”

“You think…I’ll…”

He had to pause, swallow, pant for breath at the continued anal assault. His prostate was swollen with need, had been grown by the Medic’s experiments to make him more receptive to this. By now, he was sure that his ass was the most sensitive hole on Omega, ready for fucking at the drop of a hat, and without needing nearly so much lube as he had been getting from his previous clients. The fact that he was stretched out to the limits of the biology probably helped as well, as he could feel fingers sliding in but not easily touching his inner walls.

The Turian reached up to him again, grabbing him by the chin before he could keep talking. The Boss turned him, forced him to look down.

“You will tell me, Whore. The only question is when. And if you tell me now, there might be a chance that your ‘rescuers’ could be saved the problem of dying on my doorstep.”

He shivered. The Boss stood up.

“Oh, you have friends, then. They aren’t mercenaries for you, are they? They are someone closer to you? Someone that matters?”

[i]Damn it, I should have kept still. He’s too good at reading people.[/i]

The shivers continued, some from the third finger that was sliding up his ass, some from the sheer terror of the Boss. The large Turian was a threat to him, to everyone here on Omega for the plans that he had been putting together. He knew them, knew the way that the Blue Suns were using the Boss as a means of trying to take over. If the Boss’s plans succeeded, then Aria would be a thing of the past, and the other mercenary bands would follow shortly afterwards.

And he could do it, if he wasn’t stopped. He was that smart, and that keen to take power. Azen tried to look away, but the Boss wrenched his head right back.

“Ah ah, I know what you’re thinking, Whore. You believe that if you stall long enough, that your friends will find you. You will be rescued, and you can see me taken down for all the things that I’ve done to you. You think that my plans for the station aren’t worth trying, and that the status quo should continue.”

[i]Not quite right, but think what you will.[/i]

“You are very wrong. If your friends find you – and you know that is an if – then they will die. That is all there is to it.”

“Not…not with who they are.”

“You think that they’re good enough to fight against my men?”

“I think…they’re good enough…to kill them.”

“Then that does narrow it down, doesn’t it?”

Azen groaned, trying not to think about the fact that he was giving up so much information without even meaning to. The last thing he needed was to make it easier for the Boss, but it was like everything he said only unlocked a little more of the puzzle for the Turian. What was this man? How did he have this much intelligence? How did he think this clearly when he was nothing but a mercenary?

[i]Think of him like a Salarian,[/i] he told himself. [i]Stop underestimating him, and just consider him your equal for a change.[/i]

“There…there is someone that you might know. Someone that you might be worried about.”

“Really? Then tell me.”

This was the gamble, he realized. If the payoff didn’t work, then he would just be giving the Boss a means of preparing for his rescuers, or stopping them. If it did work, however, he might be able to throw the Boss off with a bit of fear. After all, Oscar was quite good at his job, and very good at messing with the bigger mercenary companies. After seeing what he’d done with the Eclipse, Azen would put his money on the human against almost anyone else.

“His name…his name is Oscar.”

“Human, former Alliance?”

The Salarian nodded, not entirely surprised. After that last venture, more of Omega had heard of the human mercenary. The Boss turned away, pressing a finger to his chin as he slipped into thought.

As silence fell, Azen found himself more and more aware of the many fingers inside of his ass, the way that they were pumping his hole, working him into more and more of a frenzy as time went on. He shuddered every time that they pulled free, leaving his hole slippery, sloppy, and empty. He didn’t push back, but it was a near thing, making it difficult to hold his mind together.

[i]Please…please don’t give me more, please, no moooooooore![/i]

He let out a mental scream as a needle slid inside of his ass, pressing into his inner walls. Almost instantly, he felt his emptiness inside start to fill, like the inner walls and tissue were starting to inflate, swell together. He groaned, biting his lips as his prostate was suddenly put under constant pressure, stimulating it from all sides as he went from loose to virgin tight, artificially ‘fixed’ from his previous state.

And then the fingers returned, pressing down on his prostate once more and milking him for all the pre and the cum he had. The Salarian shuddered, trying not to moan, but it was so hard. He wanted to cum. He wanted to shoot his load all over the table, but he had to hold back. He couldn’t just show that he liked this. That was just what the Medic and the boss wanted from him.

His cock twitched, dribbled, oozed down onto the medical table below, leaving a line of pre from his cock to the shining surface below. He panted, whimpering as even a single finger felt bigger than the boss’s cock this time around, and he lowered his head.

[i]Sex, sex, sex, sex.[/i]

The thought was pounding through his mind, making it impossible to think, impossible to pull himself together. This was the fear. The thought-death was coming, and would come soon if he didn’t have a distraction.

When the Boss asked another question, Azen leaped on it in desperation.

“The human. Does he have any close contacts?”

“Nothing…not that…that I know of. A couple of people that might…might owe him favors…”

The Salarian shuddered, the fingers slowing down at his backdoor. The Boss looked at him with a raised bit of flesh on his head, and Azen knew that the Boss expected a little bit more. The Salarian held out for as long as he could, trying not to be too easy, but in the end, the need for a distraction made him break.

“There’s…there’s rumors that he, he and Gavorn slept together.”

“Hmmm, Aria’s enforcer, hmm?”

“Yes, him. The big guy, the really good sniper, the one with the gun, the one that can shoot anything from across the station and hit it and –”

“Yes, yes, I know his reputation, you don’t have to talk him up.”

The Boss turned away, and Azen shuddered as he was put back into the stress of the fingering, the stimulation, the high-intensity pleasure that was rushing through him and consuming him from the inside out. The tricks that he had used before, the way that he had focused his mind on studying himself, were no longer viable. Not only did the drugs keep him from thinking straight, but they were messing with his ability to sense what his own body was doing, what it was responding to. All he could do was guess and there was not enough to guess about.

As the Turian walked back and forth, apparently lost in thought, the Medic reached around, grabbing him by his cock. Azen’s eyes went wide at the feeling of double stimulation, his ass getting pounded by a thick finger and his cock getting squeezed by the Batarian. Clients never wanted his cock, so the double stimulation was hitting him much harder, leaving him gasping and squirming.

“No, no, please! Don’t make me…can’t make me…please don’t make…ah!”

He moaned, his hips twitching as he started bucking between finger and fist, unable to stop himself as he writhed in his bondage. The painful pleasure was growing higher and higher, his stuffy, puffy ass getting pounded by two fingers now. It was almost enough to split him open with the new tightness inside, and he was whimpering like mad as he was put through the wringer. He teared up, looking at the Boss for any indication of mercy, any at all.

It took about another minute for the Boss to speak, though it felt like a lifetime had passed in that pleasurable hell.

“Gavorn has a natural fetish for human males. His sleeping with this one probably means nothing…but I’ll need to have this confirmed. Oscar, however, is a known quantity. He has his own ways of dealing with things, and he could become a problem if I don’t do something about him. Not that much of an issue on his own, but with the right friends…yes, he could become a destabilizing influence.”

[i]Slight…slight progress, at least,[/i] Azen managed to think through the pleasure. It wasn’t fear, but it was something that might make the Turian think twice about some of his plans, destabilize them or slow them down a little bit in order to deal with Oscar.

The Boss turned to him, and smiled.

“Thank you for the information, Whore. The Medic will ensure that you are properly…rewarded…for this sort of thing.”

“Yes, I will.”

“Make sure that he cums his brains out. Literally.”

Azen screamed as the boss left the room, shaking in his restraints as the cock stroking suddenly got that much more intense. The Medic started muttering about machines, and suddenly, Azen felt much less secure.

#

The station that formed Omega’s living quarters was hardly that large of a place, but it was big enough and complicated enough for criminals to hide in it, and big enough to make sure that anyone that didn’t want to be found had a good chance of getting their wish granted. Oscar shook his head as he walked down the street outside of Azen’s apartment, looking for any clues to what might have snatched his friend.

As far as he could tell, there was little in the way of clues towards anyone being around the Salarian’s apartment the night that he disappeared, but if the Blue Suns were involved, as the message from Azen said that they were, then the mercs would have had the common sense to get rid of most of the clues, if not all of them. He’d just been hoping that someone stupid had been assigned to the task and made a mistake.

“[i]Any luck down there?[/i]”

“Not much, Gavorn. You?”

“[i]The apartment’s been swept clean. I think that they went through it, if they were here at all. Probably with something professional, considering how clean it is now. I can’t even find dust on some of these shelves.[/i]”

“Not much to go on. Azen always was something of a neat freak.”

He shook his head, leaning back against the apartment building as he tried to figure out how this had even happened in the first place. Azen had been someone that he had relied on for a number of distractions for his little heists, so he didn’t know the Salarian as much as he knew some of the other workers in Afterlife. He knew that the guy put on private shows and even took it further for paying customers, but it was strange to think that the Salarian would ever get involved with any of the mercs to this degree.

[i]What happened to you that night, Azen?[/i] he wondered, leaning his head back and staring up at the dimmed sky. [i]Why would you even be around the Blue Suns?[/i]

The door beside him opened, and Gavorn stepped out, his sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. The Turian shook his head a few times, sighing as he started cleaning the barrel out of habit.

“Looks like he hasn’t been back there in ages, if I’m honest with you. The cleaning is perfect, but there’s none of those lived-in feelings of a place.”

“…Was the stripper pole down?”

“…Yes, actually. Why?”

“Azen never leaves that thing down when he’s not in the apartment. I don’t think he wants people to know what he does, most of the time.”

“A stripper with shame?”

“More like a professor with an insane subject.”

“I guess that would make some sense.”

Oscar shrugged. It didn’t make any sense to him, but then again, he didn’t come up through Salarian society, nor did he know that many besides Azen. If there was something weird about someone studying nerves for the point of seeing what pleasure did to a person, well, that was weird in all societies. If there was something wrong with it, that was down to Salarian hangups, not human ones.

Still, it did tell him something, and that was that Azen hadn’t been at the house for long before he disappeared. Someone had taken him and had cleaned most stuff…just not that.

[i]But why?[/i]

The fact that there was no security footage left from the night of the attack did make things more complicated, as well. There was no chance of seeing just what Azen had been doing, or who he was with. They hadn’t found anyone else, either, who had been there, and he hadn’t known any of Azen’s clients. If there were any clients, that was. Azen never talked about –

The sound of a footstep around the corner had him reaching for a pistol in the blink of an eye, and he and Gavorn both had their weapons up as a human walked around the corner. Like anybody that lived on Omega for any length of time, the human immediately stopped and threw his hands in the air, showing that he didn’t mean to present a threat. After a few seconds, Gavorn lowered his rifle, but Oscar kept his pistol raised.

“What are you doing out here?”

“I…thought I might see if Azen was taking housecalls, since he hasn’t been at Afterlife in a while.”

“You know him?”

“I know him really well. He’s, uh, one of my favorite…performers.”

The human’s cheeks went beet-red, and Oscar glanced over at the Turian at his side. Gavorn nodded in confirmation, and he stepped forward with a smile, putting his gun back in its holster.

“I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to talk to you for a little while. You see, Azen’s been missing since the night of the attack, and we’re trying to find him. Do you have any sort of information for us?”

“You think – what it’s worth to you, I mean.”

“The information is worth quite a lot…to you.”

“What do you – NNGH!”

The human bent over as Oscar lodged his fist in the guy’s gut. He held him there, slowly pulling his hand back and letting his biotics flow down his arm, surrounding his fist in a blue glow.

“You think that one was bad, the next one is going to be going right through your spine. Why don’t you tell me what you know about Azen, then?”

“You…psychopath.”

“I did warn you.”

He pulled his fist back, and the human suddenly threw out his arm.

“Wait, wait, wait, I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything.”

“That’s better! Oh, that’s much better.”

Oscar stepped back as the admirer of Salarians caught his breath, shaking his head a few times before managing to open his mouth again. He looked up at the apartment, and then back to them before continuing.

“Look, I don’t know how it worked out, but Azen was getting some…problem customers. Blue Suns, two of them coming by every week after payday. A human and a Batarian. They were both always getting the same services, a blowjob and a bit of a dance before it, but the Batarian was always trying to get some anal out of him, too. I think that he was complaining about it during the last time I got his services, but I don’t know what was going on there. I was a little too…”

“Distracted?” Gavorn offered, helpfully.

“Yeah, distracted. He was…very good at his job.”

“Probably still is, wherever the fuck he’s gone. Alright. What were their names? Did he ever say their names?”

“Um…Uh…I think he…he called the Batarian Geeroy?”

Geeroy. That was something. They had a name to work with, even if it wasn’t that good for nailing down a mercenary. He nodded his head at the human, and the guy ran off down one of the other alleys.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Gavorn chuckled slight behind him.

“A punch through his spine, huh?”

“It was a good line.”

“It seems like you were a little too eager to back that one up. If I were to go missing, would you be so eager to track me down?”

“Well, uh…”

He rubbed the back of his head, a little blush spreading along his cheeks. That was a scenario that he had never even considered, though it was a rather…interesting one to think about. Particularly for the rewards he’d get from the Turian once he actually tracked him down. He chuckled, trying to push it out of his head for the moment.

“I don’t think you’d need rescuing like that. You’re a little too good at your job.”

“Not good enough if a scrawny human can pin me down.”

“Scrawny?!”

“Well, you aren’t exactly built to the best standards.”

“I’ll show you built to the best standards…”

“Perhaps later. We have a job to do.”

“…Right, right. The job.”

Oscar cleared his throat, pushing those images of the Turian ass-up on the floor out of his head. Better not to think about that until they were both off the clock and back to doing their normal duties. He looked towards the lights of Afterlife in the distance, visible even over some of the apartment blocks. If there was anyone that would know who that name belonged to, it would be some of the clients there.

[i]Well, better get a move on.[/i]

He started walking, and Gavorn fell in behind them, the pair of them making their way from darkness to light.

#

The club was already bouncing with music and dancers by the time they got there, with mercenaries and locals alike getting drunk and slipping into their cups with the need to forget about the days they had. Asari were the most common on the poles, shaking their blue asses for the public, but humans, Salarians, even a rare Turian was on display as well, swaying their bodies and putting their goods on display.

Oscar spared a glance at the Turian on the far side, considering his ass for a moment before deciding that Gavorn’s was better. He shook his head, chuckling slightly before pushing himself along the floor towards the bar.

“You think that there’s going to be anyone willing to talk tonight, Gavorn?”

“I think your fist to the spine threat might loosen a few lips.”

“I don’t think I can get away with that in here.”

“Then I suppose it will have to be done with...charm.”

“Well, [i]that[/i] I can do.”

“Ostensibly.”

Rolling his eyes at the Turian’s choice of words, he walked over to one of the circular bars. On the way, he already had his hand in his pocket, already counting out the amount of credits that he had on him. He had the feeling that the night was going to be an expensive one, considering all the drinks that he’d be buying.

An hour later, and he’d spent over three hundred credits, and managed to come up with little for his trouble. Most of the different mercenaries at the bar didn’t want to talk about the Blue Suns except to complain about them, and the few Blood Pack that were allowed to come back inside of the establishment only had hate and vitriol for their rivals. The Eclipse weren’t present, and the other mercenaries were next to useless considering how small-time they were in comparison to the others around.

To make matters worse, Gavorn had disappeared about ten minutes ago. He wanted to think that the Turian had gone off to chase a lead, but considering that he’d seen the sniper heading off with a human that was dressed in nothing but a thong, he figured that the only thing that the Turian was chasing was a piece of ass.

He flopped down on one of the bar stools, groaning as he tried to pull his head together. This was starting to feel like a wild goose chase, and he would have given up if he hadn’t been given that message, if that other guy hadn’t shown up at the apartment and confirmed that something had been going on.

[i]Azen, when we find you, I swear to all that is holy in this universe that I’m going to beat your ass red, and then take half your earnings to pay for all these drinks.[/i]

He shook his head. There had to be other people that still had more information. He just hadn’t found them yet. He brought his gaze away from the flaming ceiling –

Right into a cluster of blue-armored mercs with their rifles already out. Not armed, or pointed at him, but definitely out. Oscar blinked twice, and smiled slightly at them.

“Uh, hey guys. I think that you and I might have been looking for each other.”

“Looking for us rather hard, from what I’ve been hearing,” said one helmeted merc, the one standing in the center of the five-man cluster. “You’ve been asking about Geeroy?”

“He’s been a subject of my interest, yes.”

“Why?”

“There’s a friend of mine missing, and I thought that I’d start looking him up. Geeroy was the last one to see him, so he seemed the person to try and find for information.”

[i]This would be a really good time to start coming out to save my bacon, Gavorn,[/i] he thought, briefly scanning the crowd for any sign of help. Security or otherwise, there had to be someone around, but there was so much noise that nobody had seemed to notice what was going on here. That, and the fact that they were just talking right now, probably had the Afterlife security more likely to ignore it for the moment in comparison to the more viable threat of some of the drunks getting into a fight over a stripper.

Trying to keep a smile on his face, the human pulled himself to his feet and started walking around the bar.

“Maybe we should take this to a private corner, or perhaps outside?”

“A corner.”

[i]Damn.[/i]

Still, it would give him a chance. Oscar found one that was still in view of the main floor and sat down with his back to the wall. The last thing he needed was to have one of them start sliding around behind him and putting the muzzle of one of those rifles against his back. He’d be dead in seconds.

Not that he expected to live much longer with the way they were talking, but hey, every second of life was better than a second spent being dead.

He sat down and got comfortable, making it look like he was putting his hands at his sides as he reached down and slowly undid his holster. As he started sliding his weapon free, he looked from one merc to another, trying to see if there was any sort of identifying marks that he might be able to remember from earlier encounters.

Unfortunately, with all the helmets, they looked the same. He shook his head.

“So, I’m assuming you’re not going to let me meet with this Geeroy?”

“We’re here to tell you one thing, and one thing only. Drop this before we have to start hurting you.”

“You think that’s going to get me to keep my nose out of anything? Don’t you know me?”

“We know you.” The speaker lifted his rifle for a moment, pointing it casually in the human’s direction. “We know what you’re like, and we know how much trouble you’ll try and give us. So just give us a reason, and we’ll end it here and now.”

“In the middle of Afterlife?”

“We’ve got an escape ready. The door’s not far from here. There’s not enough security to stop us.”

“Well…you really did think of everything, didn’t you?”

“We’re the Blue Suns. That’s the job.”

“I think it’s your boss’s job.”

“How’d you know –”

“Shut up!”

[i]Hmmm, now isn’t that interesting?[/i] Oscar thought as the leader turned on one of the other mercs. [i]Little sensitive about his ego? Or is the boss someone that they really fear that much? Or…maybe it’s the Boss, with a capital? Hmmm…information. Information. I just gotta stay alive to use it.[/i]

His pistol was free, and he had it pointed at the lead soldier under the table. He could change the odds right here, right now without even trying, but the question was whether he should go for the leader or one of the mooks. The mooks wouldn’t damage the morale much, probably leading to a more effective counter-attack, but if he shot the leader, he might lose all the information that the squad actually had.

[i]Decisions, decisions.[/i]

The leader turned back to him, squeezing on his rifle a few times in apparent frustration.

“So, are you going to back down, or do we have to end this now?”

“I think that you’ll have to make a decision of your own.”

“Oh yeah? And what sort of decision is that?”

[i]Compromise.[/i]

“How you’re going to run when you don’t have a kneecap.”

He squeezed the trigger, pulling his pistol around in an arc under the table. More than half of the rapidly-accelerated metal shards spanged against the floor, shooting between the chairs, but three of the mercs went down, clutching their legs. He stood up, kicking the table over to get cover as the other two jumped back, not affected in the slightest by his opening attack, and he grumbled.

“Okay, this didn’t go as well as I’d like.”

“Human, you’ll die for that. Get – ulllk!”

Silence fell, or as much silence as could fall in a place like Afterlife. When the bullets didn’t start bursting through the table, Oscar slowly lifted his head over the edge to see what the situation was.

Gavorn had returned, one booted foot on the neck of the squad commander, while his rifle panned between one of the two standing mercs and the other. The Turian chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“It seems that you’re in a bit of trouble again, Oscar. How many times do I have to save your ass before I get a chance at it?”

“Heh, that’s not how it works, and you wouldn’t want to earn it that way anyway.”

“I suppose not. I assume these people have the information we need?”

“I’d say that they’re the most likely candidates. Let’s get them somewhere...private. Alright, blue boys. Throw the weapons away.”

One by one, the rifles were put on the floor and then kicked away. The other security forces were quick to come by, taking the weapons away and putting them in lock-up. Getting the two healthy Blue Suns to start dragging two of the injured ones, he walked over to the officer and grabbed him by an arm, pulling him along with one hand and keeping his weapon in the other.

As they left the building, he had to ask his companion something.

“Why did you come back then?”

“That human escort didn’t have a good enough ass.”

“Heh, high standards.”

SMACK!

He almost jumped as the Turian spanked his ass.

“The highest, Oscar. The highest.”

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]