Shepard knew she shouldn’t have fucked with Aria. The cunning Asari had mired the Commander deep in debt, and the Normandy impounded until the payments cleared. To escalate matters, Shepard’s Cerberus account had been disabled and all her extranet funds frozen. She had no credits, and no way off this hellhole of a rock. That is, until Aria suggested “alternate” methods of repaying the debt.
Apparently some wealthy Blood Pack clients were holding a bachelor party at Afterlife tonight for a high ranking gang member. The girl booked to “entertain” them was unavailable, so naturally somebody had to fill in and give the boys a good time. Shepard thought of it as easy money. She wouldn’t even tell the crew, maybe even book a second job afterwards? What’s the worst that could happen? They’re just a bunch of horny aliens, right?
A few hours later Shepard found herself opening the door to the VIP lounge of Afterlife and confidently striding into the room.
“So who’s the lucky b–?”
Only then did she see the Varren they had brought with them.