Shepard and Kylara end up in his cabin, making out and petting each other. They sit on his bed, he strips of his uniform, and wants to get her out of her suit, but she stops him. “What? You don't want to?”, he asks, a little disappointed. “Mh, that's not the issue.”, she hums thoughtful. He sits back up, looking at her. “Then, what's the matter? Am I too forward? We can take it slower, if you like, no problem!”, he proposes. She pets over his naked arm, making the hairs stand up at her touch. She explains: “Shepard, I would be delighted to engage in sexual intercourse with you. I know it would be very satisfactory for the both of us.” He smirks at her words: “Okay, very straight forward, very Trobyte. What's the catch?” She looks him in the eyes and reveals: “I'm not a Trobyte.”

He furrows his brows, searching her face and questions: “Uhm, but then, what are you? Cirion? Deprefef? I know those races sometimes get confused...” “I'm none of those.”, she cuts him off, “I'm something else entirely.” She pets over his arm again, giving him pleasant jolts. But he gets nervous: “Okay. So what are you?” She sighs, closing her eyes and pulling her arms back to cross them in front of her chest. Then she hums: “This is always the hardest part. The most dangerous...” Although he is a little unsettled, Shepard puts his hand on her thigh, assuring her: “You don't have to be afraid of me, I'm not gonna hurt you! But I do think I should know who is in my crew, so I can make sure everyone is safe!”

Then she suddenly looks back at him, and her eyes have changed. Instead of the rather humanoid bronze eyeballs with the opaque iris, there is a swirling, moving black mass, that seems to be made up of hundreds of little tentacles. Shepard flinches and then starts to tremble, as he feels being grabbed by something like roots, sprouting from her thigh, wrapping around his arm. “Uhm... Kylara!”, he gasps, “Whatever you are, please stop this!” He's about to try and get away, when the roots retract back through her suit, leaving her thighs to look normal again, and the black tentacles re-arrange to form her eyes once more. Shepard still shakes, startled, staring at her returning pupils that fixate on him. Then she suddenly states: “You no longer wish to copulate. I should leave.”, quickly getting up.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

🪐

However, Shepard moves to cut her off, putting up his arms and demanding: “Wait! Wait, hold on! What just happened? Explain yourself!” “Do not terminate me, please!”, she just begs, still wanting to escape. “Kylara... stop!”, he orders, holding her by the shoulders, but retracting his hands quickly, when he sees the pleading look she shoots him. Still, he stands firm: “Kylara... what are you? What did you... what did you want to do just now? With me?” She seems to be lost in thought, then slowly muses: “Zombie... mold. I think you can use those words. For me.” He blinks confused, repeating: “Zombie mold? You're an undead fungus?”

She doesn't respond, seems to be searching his expression for approval or aggression. He thus keeps guessing: “So... this body of yours, is actually dead?” She half nods. He takes a step back, scanning her from toe to antenna, but then denies: “But that can't be! You still need oxygen, you eat, you have a stable body temperature... you threw up during hyper drive, because your stomach couldn't tolerate it! And the ships scanners would have detected decaying matter...” “But Kylara is dead.”, she interjects, “And now I'm her.”

Now Shepard does get a bit concerned for himself, asking: “But... does that mean, your species kills people and takes over their bodies?” “No!”, she quickly corrects him, “No, we are not predators. We only take over, once our host is dead.” He repeats: “Host? You're parasites?” She weighs her head, but then nods: “Yes. It's a little more refined, but yes.” He still can't fathom what she's supposed to be, so keeps asking: “And that just now? Did you want to... eat me?”

Now Kylara laughs, and it looks so friendly and peaceful, Shepard has to smile too, as she corrects him: “No. As I said, we are not predators. I would not be eating you. And not now anyways.” That puts a stop to his relief, so he pries: “You would not eat me now? And later?” “It would not be me.”, she answers, before realizing that that doesn't actually calm his concerns. She looks a bit overwhelmed now, moving her eyes back and forth from him to the floor and and around the room. Then she sits back down on his bed, trying to focus.

🪐