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"Hey! Remus! Wake up! I need you for today's order!"

Beating. Beating. Beating.

His heart, the fist on the door, his headache.

The eyes still closed, Remus waved his hand left and right, hitting the bedding then the wall before he managed to direct it toward the door. His fingers clenched as if grasping something from thin air.

And... Nothing moved, the beating continued.

"Remus? You're up?!"

"Mmhmmm... Yeah! Leave..." he inhaled. "Leave it at the door!" before he rolled back into the deep embrace of his blankets, their comfortable warmth along with the sensation of weight pressuring him into a nesting position. In this bed, no-

"Thanks! I'll get back to you!"

Remus clenched his eyes shut. Outside his room, he heard the bag being pushed against the plywood door, the heavy steps of his father on the metallic floor... And the Krogan's bedroom door slammed shut.

"Peace," whispered Remus, appeased by the calm. He unclenched his jaws, his mandibles clicked for a second, his shoulders relaxed. He shifted his legs before pressing his head against the pillow.

... And a growl. Another growl, a grunt. A feral grunt just by his bed, deep enough to vibrate through the reinforced walls.

"By the spirits!" muttered the young Turian to himself. The growls were growing, a crescendo followed by winces and whimpers, then the feverish smack of a hand hitting soft flesh... Repeatedly.

"He had to do this to me."

Without another cuss, Remus jumped off his bed. Despite having no remembrance of what happened yesterday, it seemed he had removed his pants and shirt before going to bed... With no trace of the suitcase in the small room.

Out of his mind, that was good. But now, he had another issue in the form of his father angrily masturbating. He was better off handling his little errand. After all, his father's gigs paid for the car, the place, and most of their food. It was serious stuff.

But first, clothes.

Most of his were used and potentially dirty with grime. Residues and dust always stuck to his sweat... And since he had not done any laundry in the past week, Remus was left sniffing his clothes sprawled here and there. But he got his hand on gray slacks and a leather vest over a t-shirt, just enough for him to slip outside and...

Nearly stumble.

What a magnificent way to start the day, especially as the corridor was as grimy as ever... Blocking the path of his left foot was a used duffle bag. Diluted blue with the seams almost undone, it had surely been filled with modified cartridges and a few weapons. Classy as always, Dad.

That same Dad who grunted like a beast while his Son picked up the bag and knocked at the door.

"What?!"

"'going! Don't break anything while I'm out!"

No answers, no pips, no growls. Back to silence.

A sigh escaped Remus as he entered the living room and noticed where he had put the suitcase. The container was on the kitchen table, wide open and disgorged of its content. No vials, no drug. Not even a hint of glass. His brows raised, he checked the rest of the place: dirty pan on the stove reeking of burnt oil, with a lump of charcoal on it; a can of Kror's beer, a finger away from the suitcase...

Though the can was unopened and lukewarm to the touch.

"Damn... He could clean after himself."

Remus picked up the can and shook it for good measure while opening the fridge. And noticed where the vials were. He had stuffed all of them inside until the interior shone with a pink hue... And there was almost no place to cram the beer into... Or perhaps... A little push... A little move and... There!

All stuffed, all in the cold, and he would find an excuse to give to Kror later.

"Hehe, I'm so good."

That difficulty "handled", the Turian perked up and hightailed to the door outside, the floor, and the stairs with the duffel bag. For once, he was fine not using the elevator. And the flight dilapidated stairs was blur beneath his steps, as he grinned while barreling down.

It was 10 am, or the Omega equivalent. There were no workers in the habitation blocks. However, distant wailing revealed the presence of people somewhere in the building.

But again, not his problem. He descended in a chaos of echoes, gave a small sign to the Batarian hobo reclining by the last steps. And the dusty air of Omega welcomed him back. No sunlight, no breeze in this realm, this kingdom. Only artificial systems emulating an atmosphere as he walked through the familiar market by his home.

For six credits, he snatched a quick notch for later. And he rushed to his parking spot, down the downward aisle towards his Skycar... And Legius standing by.

Old, with his dull-gray crest covered in scars and one missing eye, that tough bastard was still up. His blue-sun armor was dusty but the rifle he held, a... heavily modified M-8 avenger with a recoil damper ... Well, that assault rifle was clean. Despite only being there to watch, supervise, and call for backup, that old man still took his job seriously.

"Hey Remus, you thought about my offer?" asked the old man, his blue-dyed mandible clicked in askance. All while the youngest turned his back to him and opened the Skycar's trunk, shoving the duffle bag in.

"No luck. My dad don't want. And you know, he's difficult and will never budge."

"Ah, kid. It's nice you've got a dad looking after you. But if you want to live on your own, you gotta make some credits. What's in the bag?"

With a loud click, the trunk closed, and its lock engaged. Reinforced lock, custom-made by Kror, so no one but Remus could open it except by brute force, small security around a mercenary. Once ensured the trunk was secured, Remus jumped on it, his eyes onto Legius.

"One of Kror's errands. He's probably sick or too lazy today, 'bet on the second."

"See. You are doing his work and not gaining any credits. You have potential, kid. Don't waste it."

"Blue sun, they're teaching you that crap? Or it's you and one of your life lessons?"

"Fuck you." answered the old man, shaking his head in frustration.

"Gladly. But I'm going off. Otherwise, I may be nobody's son tonight, catch it?"

His snack in hand, Remus jumped off the sky and stepped to the driver's door. But he glanced aside, observed the mercenary step away to do another round through the neighborhood.

"Legius!"

The old turian turned. And faced Remus, who gave him the finger with a stupid grin.

"Tomorrow, my place. Clawball match with the Nehlar!"

Such a nasty attitude, yet Legius shook his head and waved his hand.

"Go now before I cuff your dumb ass!"

And go, Remus did.

Jumping on his seat, placing his food on his right, Remus turned his car on. And the purring engine carried off the uppity young man away.

Despite its age, the skycar flew through the air with a relative nimbleness, avoiding the crapping convoys or the modified speedster coursing between Omega's skyline. It was not something Remus could tire off, particularly as he speeded through the small tunnels.

From the Fumi district he lived in, it was only a few turns before he approached the usual meeting spot with the Blood pack. Sometimes, Kror was to meet them on his own means with public transports, or Remus drove him there.

Rarely did the young Turian meet them all alone. But he knew the familiar faces, the familiar place.

That old disaffected parking lot, with its flooded underside and the squatters in its shade, was a firm memory in Remus' mind. From its former glory, five years ago, to its current state.

Above him, the traffic roared with all its luminous light and noise. Although, he could hear distant sounds of shooting and fighting. In this part of Omega, this was mostly Humans and Asaris. Amusingly, with how close those species seemed to be. It was an assumption to imagine them all chummy and that asteroid was ruining each of them.

"Hey! No turian here! Away! Away!"

Pulled from his observation, Remus turned towards the source of all those screams and ruckus. And almost jumped off the trunk to observe who was screaming. A vorcha: pink skin, red eyes, gaping mouth with teeth, emaciated as hell. That thing could have been a misshapen mix of a human with an insect, and Remus had to refrain from grimacing at that sorry sight.

Or to scowl when that creature tempted to shoo him away, flailing his claws in a pathetic imitation. Vorchas... At last, once he saw one, he knew the Blood pack was close.

"I'm replacing Kror," he answered.

"Kror? You turian! Get away! Away! Rrrah!"

This was becoming tedious. Remus rolled his eyes as he returned to the trunk and looked at the creature.

"I am replacing Kror. Kror. Go tell Goalth!"

"No Goalth! No turian!"

"Urer?" he asked, his mandibles clicking.

The dull creature hissed to the question... He would get no help from the Vorcha, bending and ready to pounce forward.

However, the altercation attracted some attention as other Vorchas slid out of the shadows... Corralled by three Krogans in armor, red armor. The Blood pack had changed over the years since the Turians had been driven out of it, but those brutes remained the spine of the organization. All in muscles, strong, and without an ounce of empathy, as some would say.

And just watching one often made civilians cower. Though Remus was... Almost used to it. Living with a Krogan had perks, and watching them arrive no longer frightened him like it did the first time he attended a meeting.

"Is that true, you replace Kror? Where's the merchandise?" asked the chief of the lot. A Krogan whose hump was plump. His scales were purple-red, complete with his red and blood-injected eyes.

His voice was sour, menacing.

And Remus responded by jumping off the trunk. Then, he taped it.

"There. And yes, Kror is sick. He can't come today. It's not Goalth or Urer today?"

"They're not here, they're off Omega so I, Targ, replace them."

"Ah yeah, big mission it is? Convoy of Eezo, drug dealing, escort of a big wig, am I right?"

Remus asked with a smile, but nobody seemed to be indulging him.

"Okay, tough crowd. Veeery tough crowd."

He commented before he slid his fingers close to the trunk's lock. It opened, and the Turian pulled out the duffle bag to put it on the car. And pulling out its content.

"Here. Modified M-910 Cain with its ammo. You can check the stuff, but I'd advise not to shoot it here... Or in omega. Or close to any of your bases."

The Krogans quickly ran to the duffle bag and scoured it, taking the weapon in hand to watch that monster of welded steel. Contrary to manufactured goods, this weapon looked like a mix of crap and junk metal, making its quality dubious at best.

But Kror's stuff worked best, and it passed through check. That old krogan may have been a fierce warrior, but that thick skull also had some ounces of a megalomaniac genius when it came to... Pews pews.

"Satisfied?"

"Are you sure it'll shoot? If you lied to us, or Kror did, we will gut you both." threatened the leader as he quickly put the weapon back in the bag and threw it at one of his fellows. All while closing in the distance between them.

In response, Remus raised both hands while slightly tilting his head to witness those brutes handling the duffel bag like it wasn't a mini-nuke.

"Hey, I'm just the messenger, and sure am he didn't mess that one. Or the others, to say. You're sending him the cash?"

"Don't play smart with me. Or you'll regret it."

Now, the Krogan's breath was on Remus. Hints of Ryncol, cheap krogan booze, and Creeper, a recent drug. Damn, that dude was high.

"Okay, 'got it. I'll jump back in my car, and everyone is happy. That good?"

With both hands raised, the Turian inched closer to his car... And opened it, jumping inside. Only to poke his head out.

"And... Eh... Don't forget the money."

He added before disappearing in the car. Happily, he had left the engine running. And he drove off without any further instruction. Remus was used to Krogans... But not those coming to meetings drugged and high like a human sniffing Sand off an Asari's ass! Those guys, they were a real danger, and it was stupid to send them for weapon dealings. What the fuck were they thinking about? It was Kror's problem now.

Remus plunged a hand into the small snack bag he had bought and fetched a sandwich he munched while checking the cameras on his screen. Back side, left and right... Front. No one, nothing tailing him.

If that... That Targ had sent someone to run after him... Or attempt something Remus, he would have done it earlier. That's what the Turian tried to remind himself, despite his heart beating. But it wasn't stupid to check his back when you're running away from a weapon exchange, especially with those little beauties of modified Cain. The Blood Pack loved them and had no issues using them during territorial conflicts on planets at the extreme limits of the terminus systems.

God, he hated that part of those errands.

Driving was fine... Even eating while letting the auto-pilot take the wheel was fine, surrounded by those vehicles skimming through the air.

But dealing with cunts...

With a growl, Remus took another bite of his sandwich as he left the vehicle to work its magic and took him back to his familiar abode without all the speeding and extreme swerves.

One day, he should ask for Kror or any decent mechanic to update the old VI. It often glitched in the Fumi district.

But before he could stress the idea further, the purring engine stopped, and his gaze returned to the parking place next to the market. Bread, vat-grown meat, dry lettuce in mouth, he stood outside with nobody to welcome him. And his wracked nerves pushed him to run to his place.

No salutation, no small signs, jumping from step to step while munching, then grinding his teeth. He didn't even feel tired when he was back in the apartment... And was immediately welcomed by a waft of Krogan musk.

The scent, heady and earthy, was unmistakable, as Remus had to know it well. But in such an amount, it almost seared his nose. He rushed to the nearest window on his right to open it wide until the caustic air of Omega's skylines replaced the permeating musk. There, Remus took a breath... And shouted.

"Dad! WHAT THE FUCK?!" he shouted across the empty apartment as his golden eyes watched over the chaos his father had unleashed.

The sofa was... Coated with white fluids. Even the kitchen table and counter, Remus' door... Pinching his nose, the Turian had no interest in seeing the state of the workshop and Kror's room. Though, due to the lack of response, he had to check them.

The makeshift room, balanced on anchored beams against the condo' was silent, but the white substance had left its traces. Likewise to the Krogan's room, whose wide-open door disclosed the poor state of the bedding and clothes.

But no traces of Kror....

"Hmm... Yeah."

A moan, discrete. Remus noticed it coming from somewhere else. Not the kitchen nor the entrance. He stepped into the corridor aligned with their bedrooms. Kror's, then his, then the bathroom... And finally. Remus closed the distance and kicked the laundry room's door open.

Onto his father sitting in a puddle of fluid.

The red-scaled Krogan, by his age and size, was almost at Remus's height despite having his naked ass promptly seated in a puddle, one hand pumping his cock and more cum out.

The other hand? It maintained a piece of clothing against his nose. And Kror was not only inhaling the scent of it but getting a high out of it as those eyes rolled in their sockets in pure delight.

And Remus looked at him slack-jawed, his mandibles apart as he fathomed what his father was doing. Even then, the krogan seemed not to notice the Turian's presence until the latter suddenly leaned over and snatched the clothes.

"Okay, Kror, what are you- BY THE SPIRITS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY JOCKSTRAP!"

The young turian shouted as he watched one of his dirty jockstraps, stained with sweat and...

Remus threw it, afar. Not in Kror's direction but outside, pulling the old Krogan away from this scent.

The same Krogan watched him with blinking and surprised eyes. All the while, he kept tugging and playing with his cock as if nothing was happening.

"W-Wh... Remus? You... Were not outside to... For the errand?" finally asked the old man. The hand slowed until he was left grunting and growling.

"Yes, I was! And I had to deal with a Drunk and Creeped dude! Because you want to bust a nut?!" screamed back Remus while leaning against the doorjamb, observing the Krogan fumble on his words and lowering his eyes.

"No-... Fuck, Son. Just leave me!"

"So you can still fap and sniff my underwear? What's wrong with you today?"

The confused Krogan looked at his hands without giving any answers or details.

For half a minute, they were facing one another until Remus lifted his hands to the ceiling, growling.

"Fine! Do what you want!"

He gave up, turning his back to his father as he moved to the kitchen. Happily enough, Kror had not sprayed his "love-juice" onto the fridge, and Remus fetched a beer from it, pulling the can from the chaos of glass and vials... Until he noticed something. There was one vial, one on the front. Half-emptied, with a bit of the liquid sticking to the exterior.

"... Did he?"

"I'm sorry, Son."

Still leaning over with his head in the fridge, the Turian almost hit his crest against the edge from surprise. But then turned and faced his father. Behind the old man, there was a trail of cum and fluid, mostly coming from his feet... And his hard cock, from which the fluid dripped.

Moreover, the Krogan seemed contrite with a visible wince.

"I'm... Fucking rut, and I don't know how to handle it. I'm not a young lad any-"

"Wait."

Remus stopped him by raising a hand... And produced the half-empty vial before Kror.

"You drank it?"

"Yes. You told me yesterday you were stowing cocktails, and I wanted to taste if i- What's- wrong?"

The Krogan slurred each word, but he was at least able to produce an answer while Remus massaged his face, clutching his hardened skin.

"I- Nothing. I mean, I should better be going and searching a sex shop, so you can have something to fuck." grumbled the Turian as he went around his father to leave the kitchen.

But a hand, rough, calloused, and sticky, grabbed Remus.

"I don't want a toy or something shitty sold by a Volus. I need you."

In shock, Remus didn't say anything, as the Krogan continued, pleading.

"I'll do whatever you want! But I need to get off! Not with a fucking toy."

Bitten lips, an idea coming in... And in the end, the son turned his head with a resolute expression.

"Okay, but I'm giving orders. And you'll do as I say."

And that's how Kror found himself lying on his backside while on the cum-stained sofa. Without any pants or clothes to cover himself, his body was entirely exposed. His bulging arms, his large but muscular chest, that chubby belly... That constantly hard cock whose length and girth were akin to a can, while his scrotum seemed taut with those four massive orange-sized testicles.

But what Remus eyed, as the Krogan was forced to keep his legs spread, was his asshole.

A dark rim, glistening with sweat, with steam emanating from the sultry flesh. And each inhalation stuffed the Turian's lungs and drowned him in desire while his pants bulged from his erection.

"That's good?" grunted the old Krogan, a scowl drawn on his face. He had been waiting, and his son was doing nothing but oogling his exposed ass.

"All good. Never thought I'd be eating you out one day, Dad." chuckled Remus as he leaned over, almost knelt by the sofa while he breathed down that hole. And approached one of his fingers to the orifice. Beneath his touch, the sphincter gave in, and a small tug on the wrinkled flesh quickly stretched it while stealing wheezes from Kror.

Another finger, another tug, and the krogan was now holding his face and muffling his moans as that asshole revealed itself to be sensitive, so sensitive.

A second finger and Kror mewled; a scissoring movement, and he shivered; plunging the two fingers down to the knuckles, and he sprayed himself with cum. And yet, Remus continued as he used both hands to explore his father's gaping asshole.

The right on the cheek to maintain it spread. The left on the hole, squeezing and wiggling the fingers until he managed to push his thumb inside and have the whole hand in.

The Krogan obviously roared and shouted from the penetration, his hands all over his face. But his spurting cock and clenching hole was proof of his enjoyment. And how he yearned for more.

Therefore, Remus obliged. Grinning stupidly, he inched his hand back and forth within the wide hole, prodding and tapping his knuckles against the inners of Kror until he heard it.

A high-pitched whine. Followed by another as Remus tapped a small bump within the hole and began to massage it. With deft fingers, he even squeezed it by pinching it between two knuckles before the Krogan howled and threw his head back, shouting.

"FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" he repeated, ignoring his son's exploration and interest. The old man was bucking his hips back and forth. He desired to be fucked, to be filled with something more than just fingers.

And whined when those fingers pulled away from his hole and cheeks. For the orifice to be exposed to Omega's "breeze". In response, the asshole clenched in a death grip, and the massive Alien growled, peeling his hands away to see his son before him.

Remus was lean, like most of his species. But as he removed his pants and pulled them down, he showed how much he had been packing. Hefty black testicles in a leathery pouch adorned with small plaques of reinforced bones. All while, his cock emerged from his slit, dragging along strings of sweat and precum until the 9 inches bright blue dick stood erect and hard, throbbing with blue blood.

Not a monster by Krogan standards, but something else for Turians.

Remus kicked his pants away before he jumped on the sofa, all fours above Kror's belly.

"All you want, Dad." he convincingly acceded, grinning like an idiot as he was given a chance to do something he had been lusting after. Krogans were big, but their asses... That's what Remus loved about them. Their sizes, their curves, their fatty flesh covering their tense muscles.

Compared to humans, Asaris, Turians, nothing could beat those massive sweaty cakes and those bellies when their humps were plenty full.

Something he rarely had the chance to taste, not even with Rahn, his "boyfriend".

And here, he had his dad... Fat, deliciously sweaty, and musky.

"What are you waiting for?!" shouted the old man, bringing Remus back to reality as he suddenly bit his reinforced upper lip and angled his hips.

With careful movement, he placed himself on the sofa and pulled the Krogan's legs up until that ass was perfectly directed at his erected cock... And that little tail below wagged with envy.

In other circumstances, that wag would be followed with a laughing fit. Yet, Remus bit his lips and... Thrust.

His hips plunged forward as he gave no chance to Kror to back down. It was the young man's first time penetrating and... It felt ecstatic and... Painfully electric.

As he pushed his cock inside, his toes curled while the gripping orifice tugged on his sensitive skin. He winced, grit his teeth, and gasped.

It was... Nothing like masturbation. It was more intense, more painful too. So much more. So pleasing as he hilted himself within that sultry hole, felt the Old's man clench his butthole around him as he was, too, unaccustomed to penetration.

"Hhh... Re- Relax," ordered Remus between heaving breaths as he swung his hips. Inside that tight hole, he had next to no wiggle room, and this shaking was a way to test the walls. To force them to open up.

Although they resisted: clenched and contracted as the old man lay on the couch. The old Krogan clutched the sofa's back with one hand... And had the other on his thigh, digging claws into the flesh.

If Remus's breath was rash and hollow, worse was Kror's as his blood-injected eyes locked onto the ceiling.

"R- Relax!" shouted Remus, raising his left hand. And smacked the Krogan's round butt in a sonorous SLAP, completed by the massive male whining... And finally relenting. Those muscles unclenched and released their death grip on the Turian.

Turian, who took the opportunity to shift his position, to lean further forth... And using Kror's thighs as handles during the pull-out. In this instant, he extricated his hard cock from the hungry hole. And plunged it back. In a smack, deafened by Kror's howling. A cry Remus loved... And had been lusting after.

He closed his eyes and embraced that massive belly, laying against it while his hips smacked the leathery ballsack against the ass. His dick, elongated and blue, pulsated against the Krogan's prostate.

Again, he pushed. Again, he thrust. Again, he rammed.

All while his father winced and moaned, frothing with foam escaping his agape mouth to drip on the side.

But more than that, Kror came.

He came in amount, in a constant flow of fluids from his beer can-sized dick onto his belly, his son's chest, and the Sofa's side. He came in large amounts, yet his testicles still burned with lust and desire while his prostate remained swollen and searing.

Though the hammering of the Turian on it was akin to ice applied against the overwhelmed organ, squeezing out more of those fluids from him.

And in so, he ejaculated ceaselessly.

From watching his son above him. Those golden eyes closed, the upper body tense as he rode that belly, Remus growled and grunted. He was no longer restrained by his father's asshole and enjoyed it. The orifice squeezed slightly when orgasms wrecked the krogan, but not as much as before. He could appreciate the slight tug on his junk, the grip massaging his glans when he pulled out, along with the waxing tension in his legs and lower body.

He gritted his teeth against his reinforced lower lips, felt the taste of bones shard in his mouth mixed with the saliva and a tinge of blood.

And... He moaned.

His hips bucked as he nudged his head against the Krogan's belly. The warmth coming off it was soothing compared to the jolt shaking his groins as he felt his prostate clench, his testicles tense within his scrotum.

And the pulse, so appeasing, as cum began to pour out of that shaft. The flow eased the itch, the slight burn. It gushed continuously, even as he halted any movement... Half-inserted within while he displayed a genuine expression of satisfaction and exhaustion.

His breath was controlled. He was not heaving... But he was discovering soreness in muscles he had never known before, and he was sure his backside would hurt tomorrow.

"Fuck... That... Was something," he mumbled with a joyful voice, smiling to his father with those lowered brows and a slight drip of saliva at the commissure.

"... Second round?" asked Kror, despite foam and saliva sticking from his mouth.

And Remus hit his head against the Krogan's reinforced chest, "Fuuuuuck."

With pain and only a hand left to massage his lower backside, Remus was back sitting on the sofa after it had been cleaned up. The whole apartment still reeked like a Krogan orgy that had lasted five nights, back to back, but it was respirable.

And at last, it hadn't been Remus's task for once since he had taken a nap... But Kror's. His father was writhing in pain and pleasure as he was sitting sideways. Two layers of towels covered his groin, and one had been placed below his posterior. So Remus, in his magnanimity, followed the honorary duty of fingering his Father's cum-stained hole.

Between the flinches, gasps, and hisses, the old Krogan still had some breath left. Even when his son was going to town in his ass, using the whole fist into the ever-burning hole.

All while they watched the television, a soap opera with a Quarian family. People said their acting made it possible to read emotions despite the Aliens behind which Quarians hid... But none in the room believed it.

"So... That's how you found that stuff? A shady guy left you that suitcase, and you kept it?"

asked Kror before a tense knuckle squeezed another ejaculation out of him... Along with a cough.

"It didn't seem dangerous. And I had to find an occasion to get that stuff tested. But I hadn't got the opportunity to ask anyone."

"Why not Nana? She has a side hustle at the clinic. Hmm, you're good at that stuff."

"Thanks... Never thought this would happen... Or you would praise me for this."

"Heh, I never took a guy behind, let alone a Turian. But you rocked my ass like a champ."

A groan escaped Remus's throat in response before a smacking hand hit Kror's reddish backside... It was such a blatant lie.

The Krogan yelped from the hit, the Turian hissed from the pain from his side.

But the fisting hand remained inside.

"You're so corny, you know it?"

Harshly whispered Remus, enough for the Krogan to hear it. Despite the Television shouting at them, mostly due to a scene where the supposed Mother found out who was her Daughter's boyfriend... A human! Shame on her!

But again, nobody in the flat enjoyed the show. But it was that or constantly listening to Kror's squelching butthole whenever Remus moved his wrist.

"I should order something, haven't eaten since yesterday." commented the old man as he shook his hips... And stopped in his track, now typing on his wrist-mounted omnitool. "... Why not Pizza?"

"Aye. But what was the pan for this morning?"

"Steak. But I burned because of... Yeah, that stuff... He-herm. Threw it away."

"You're fucking stupid, Dad... How we will deal with this? I can't fist or fuck you all day long."

The Krogan stopped his typing for a second before humming to himself.

"... I'll get to the clinic tomorrow where Nana works and ask her to check that stuff on the way."

Remus pondered, bit his lips a second... And then acquiesced, nodding while the typing continued... And then stopped, along with the television.

He turned his head and saw Kror. His head turned towards him, grinning, with his little wagging tail.

"It'll take twenty minutes, could we..."

"Fine... But I need my legs tomorrow."