Legendary Batarian Hater

The batarians were always known as the 'bad boys' of the galaxy. Forced into exile, forced to survive on what they could scrounge up. Deciding to take out brief moments of anger and revenge on settlers and colonists who dare to step foot around their turf.

They saw the Skyllian Verge as their own, but they were the only ones to see it that way. After severing ties with the council, having a massive battle, and being hated by most of the alliance including Commander Shepard the Batarians decided to go into hiding for the most part. After a giant issue with one of the mass effect relays exploding, there wasn't many Batarians left anyhow. So they tried to conserve and reproduce. That's why you don't see many of them kicking around in council space.

Everything from selling red sand to sex slaves, Batarians got a profit where they could. Their people being destroyed also meant their reputation was destroyed, so high end or reputable jobs weren't really available for their types. Four eyes, several nostrils, smooth black lips, teeth that were in jutting rows instead of straight across like a normal human jaw. A long black tongue, looking more like a tendril.

If Commander Shepard had vaporized three-hundred thousand Asari if the response would have been the same. With the rapid destruction of the entire Batarian race, they turned to all they know how to do. Terrorism, sabatoge, and sex. Lots of fucking. A way to celebrate life and death.

Kharsh was one of these final surviving batarians. Named after the Batarian homeworld, Khar'shan. He himself had never been to Kite's Next or Harsa. He wondered if they were as beautiful as he hoped.

When he first met the Commander, there was a gun pressed firmly into the center of his back. Shepard was down in the docks, visiting his shuttle pilot. The man kept crying over his husband. Shepard seemed very close to him. Kharsh wondered if Shepard also had interest in male-presenting individuals. Perhaps it was a human thing.

The second time the two of them met. Kharsh was playing with his puppy. A skag. A big creature with a bigger maw who just so happened to have a bigger appetite than a heart. Shepard raised a gun to his creature. Kharsh stared him down, ready to shoot. But the Commander put down his gun and winked. He actually winked at him. "Batarians." He mumbled before leaving.

Kharsh was now on his death bed. This would be the third and final time Commander John Shepard would visit him. He was laying on a small gurney in a shipping container. They were parked towards the back of the docks. Kharsh had seen when The Normandy ship got parked. When the crew boarded and went their own little ways. He was getting worse. More sick. More in pain. He knew death would be soon. He was ready to meet his people again. First, he met Shepard.

The Commander stared at him. Kharsh sighed and looked up at him. "What do you want? Coming to finish me off?"

"In more ways than one." Commander Shepard spoke up.

Another groan. A roll of pain. A sigh.

"You killed all of my people. Kill me off too. Make it worth it." Kharsh retorted, having no time to bother with the commander.

Shepard looked around at the nurses, he looked around the empty shipping container. He then leaned down and began fishing out the Batarian's thick orange cock. Kharsh was surprised, but his erection happily greeted the hero of the galaxy.

"What are you doing?" He snarled through two rows of sharp teeth.

Shepard stroked. Hard. Slow. "You said to finish you off and make it worth it. I figure this was the best way to do that."

He stroked faster. Kharsh was already on his death bed. In a million years, he wouldn't have been able to guess that not only a human but the human pathfinder would be jerking him off. Milking him for all he was worth. His last big O before he took his last breath.

"Human..." Kharsh groaned. But he couldn't finish the loose threat. His big yellow girth throbbed. Grew. Hardened. Bucked forward. A few moments of hard stroking and he spurted sticky white goo all over the Commander's face. Hitting his cheek. His lips. Making a mess of his hand. Shepard then did the unthinkable and leaned down to clean up his mess. Hot tongue slowly sliding up the base, around the tip. Suckling each ball into his mouth as if it were delicate. "You aren't as they say, Shepard." Kharsh said, panting quietly.

Commander Shepard stood up and walked out of the shipping container. The nurse smiled and nodded as the hero took their leave. Kharsh felt that he was still rock hard. And he reached down to begin stroking once more, thinking about the legendary batarian hater.