Garrus, Grunt, and Mordin star in… “Gas Effect” featuring the Illusive Man 2.2k words — “Well, he wasn’t the krogan we were expecting, but I suppose he’ll do just fine,” the Illusive Man muttered, watching as the newest member of the Normandy’s crew made his way about the ship. Thankfully, Shepard had been able to convince the juvenile newcomer to join their cause for the time being. If it hadn’t worked, things could have gotten very messy. At the present, Grunt was making his way to the medical bay, along with Garrus. The commander, accompanied by Miranda and Jacob, had left for the Citadel. After ordering EDI to warn him in the event that Shepard returned earlier than expected, the Illusive Man had requested the presence of the krogan and turian for an unspecified test. — “Is this going to take long?” Grunt asked bluntly, staring down at the Mordin in a clear attempt at intimidation. The salarian’s face was difficult to read, but the krogan caught a hint of something in his eyes that put him on edge. “It shouldn’t. No. Not if everything goes according to plan. The Illusive Man’s plan, not mine. But I checked every detail. Should work.” Mordin spoke quickly, more to himself than to the others. “That’s good, I have some calibrations I’d really like to finish,” Garrus replied, meeting no response as Mordin seemed more absorbed in the preliminary data Cerberus had provided, and Grunt was rarely if ever interested in small talk. “So,” the turian continued, also feeling slightly uneasy about the situation. “What kind of test is this? Was it really necessary for us to remove our armor? And do we really have to wear…these?” Free of his metallic outer shell, Garrus always felt more on edge, especially given the lack of trust he had in Grunt. The genetically engineered krogan managed to cut an intimidating figure, despite the crinkly white undergarment taped around his waist. “Nothing complicated. After your injuries, and Grunt’s early awakening, the Illusive Man thought it would be a good idea to help the two of you relax and recover. And he knew that you wouldn’t agree if a Cerberus physician performed the procedure.” There was a brief pause, as Mordin regarded the pair with a knowing look. “And yes, I think you’ll need them.” “As if a salarian is any better,” Grunt replied, not bothering to speak under his breath. Mordin simply remained silent, his work nearly finished. When the Illusive Man had first approached him with the idea, he had been repulsed, of course. But after taking a few days to consider, the salarian was forced to admit that his curiosity was overwhelming his concern. After being reassured that he would be immune to the newly-created chemical, the plans had been made. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the final button on the nearby console. For a moment, there was silence. And then… “Do you hear something?” Garrus asked, motioning for the other two to be quiet as the sound of a faint hissing filled the air of the medical bay. Mordin just looked down at his hands, while Grunt pointedly ignored the turian altogether. — “Only a few moments now,” the Illusive Man grinned as he watched the security feed. “Based on our theories, the gas should work perfectly on krogan and turian subjects. Mordin confirmed that himself by looking at our data.” He smirked as he looked at the salarian’s face, Mordin’s eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Of course, we couldn’t have him check this revised version, but salarians should be just as vulnerable.” It was true, of course, that Mordin’s cooperation was necessary to ensure that Garrus and Grunt would partake in the experiment. Beyond that, the salarian had little use other than becoming a test subject himself. — “Okay, now I definitely hear something,” Garrus said in concern, the hissing noise increasing in volume until it was impossible to ignore. The turian’s head started to feel fuzzy, and he began to panic, making his way to the door. “Damn. Grunt, help me get this door open. I don’t know what this gas is, and I don’t want to find out.” “Open it yourself if you’re so worried,” Grunt replied with a cocky grin, standing right underneath the vent without any concern. “Whatever this test is, I can take it. I’m da pewfect kwogan.” “What the hell did you just say?” Garrus asked, unsure if the krogan’s speech lapse was real or simply a result of the weird feeling in his head. In his confusion, he suddenly forgot that he was urgently trying to escape the room. “Silly turian,” Grunt said with a deep chuckle. “I said I’m da best kwogan in the world! I can do anything!” “You’re not eben talkin’ good!” Garrus retorted, turning his back to the door and walking towards the krogan, forgetting all about the potential danger of the gas as he got closer to the vent. “Am too!” Grunt replied petulantly, sticking out his tongue at the approaching turian. “You the one who’s talkin’ bad, dummy head!” He reached out and pushed Garrus away, though the force was a lot lower than might have been expected. In fact, the shove seemed to throw the krogan off balance as well. As he struggled to stay on his feet, Grunt let out an audible fart. “Fascinating,” Mordin muttered, frantically taking notes. “Compared to the simulations, the rate at which both cognitive and physical abilities are being impaired by the gas are quite rapid.” Given that he was standing off to the side, neither the krogan nor the turian paid him much attention. “Don’t call me dummy head, you stinkybutt!” Garrus replied angrily, shoving the krogan back. “That s’posed to be mean?” Grunt chuckled, shoving Garrus with even less force this time. “I’ve got the stinkiest butt in the galaxy! You couldn’t smell this bad if you tried!” “Could so!” Garrus replied, gritting his teeth and pushing out a gentle fart of his own. “Could not!” Grunt replied, firing off an even bigger blast of gas, strong enough to make Mordin’s eyes water from across the room. “Could so!” Garrus shouted, before turning his back to the krogan and squatting down. The turian took a deep breath before starting to push as hard as possible. He let out a fart that managed to dwarf the krogan’s, but he was just getting started. There was a moment of silence, quickly broken by another blast of gas as Garrus’ diaper started bulging out in the back. He moaned loudly as he continued pushing, wiggling his diapered butt in Grunt’s face. The krogan leaned in and took a deep sniff of the turian’s rear, before smirking. “Thas nuthin!” he grunted, squatting down himself as he prepared to start messing his diaper, pushing his face into Garrus’ padded seat in the process. “The effects of the gas are similar to what was expected, though I can’t say that I was anticipating such an…enthusiastic response,” Mordin muttered, taking a few steps closer to the odorous pair, as well as the gas vent, completely unaware of the risk he was putting himself in. “When I write my report for the Illusive Man, I’ll have to make a note of these unanticipated impacts on the sudden lack of in…in…” the salarian trailed off, suddenly unable to remember the word he was trying to say. “I suppose even if I’m immune to the gas, the stink is still having an impact. These two smell atrocious.” Now that Mordin was closer, both Garrus and Grunt were able to hear him. While most of what he said went completely over their heads, there was one word that both of them understood. “Stink?” they said in unison, taking a break from packing their padding full of shit to look up at the unnerved scientist. “You decide! Who is da stinkiest?” Garrus asked, turning around and showing off the extent to which his padding had started to sag, elbowing in front of Grunt in order to get closer to Mordin. “Is gunna be me,” Grunt replied, pushing the turian aside and grabbing the salarian, dragging him over to the wall before pushing him to his knees. Without hesitation, the krogan squatted back down, grinding his diaper against Mordin’s face. The salarian was pinned against the wall, unable to do anything but squirm in disgust. After a few moments, Grunt stepped away, causing Mordin to frantically gasp, taking in deep breaths of the fresher air. Of course, seeing as Grunt had pulled him right underneath the vent, it was the experimental gas that filled his lungs. The salarian only had a few moments to breathe before Garrus took Grunt’s place, his bloated padding practically engulfing the salarian’s entire head as he twerked against the wall. Things continued on like this for what felt like hours. Mordin found himself unable to break free from the larger aliens, and was forced to alternate between taking in deep, suffocating breaths of the bickering pair’s loaded diapers and breathing in the gas that had slowly begun to melt his mind away. “Hav ya picked yet?” Garrus asked as he pulled Mordin’s face free from his padding, still hopeful that the salarian would judge him to be the superior stinker. Mordin just gasped and panted, no longer able to string a sentence together. He might have started out as one of the brightest minds in the galaxy, but the gas had taken its toll. — “Seems as though every last IQ point has been drained away,” the Illusive Man chuckled, watching as Grunt took his next turn grinding the salarian between his ass and the wall. “Just as we planned.” “For all other subjects, there was no need to go that far,” he continued muttering to himself. “But despite your usefulness, there was no choice. The non-human who understands the gas, and who could potentially reverse the effects, couldn’t be allowed to leave here with his mind intact.” — “Who is more stinky?” Grunt asked dumbly, forgetting how many times he’d already asked the salarian that same question. By this point, the krogan’s padding was hanging down nearly to his knees, and Garrus’ wasn’t far behind. Mordin just moaned, completely oblivious to the krogan’s words as he released the contents of his bladder into his garments, even his bladder control having been drained away. While Grunt continued to repeat his question, Garrus was excited to discover the rapidly expanding puddle of piss emanating from the salarian, emptying his own bladder into his diaper in some form of solidarity. Grunt eventually gave up his questioning, choosing instead to push the mindless salarian down onto the floor before happily taking a seat on his face. Mordin didn’t even bother fighting back as the bloated padding engulfed his entire face. Grunt chuckled as he let out another fart, tongue lolling out of his mouth. As he looked down at the salarian’s soaked clothing, he saw a bulge forming in the crotch of the pants, but by this point he didn’t have the brainpower to remember what it was. Garrus, on the other hand, was happily exploring the throbbing bulge in his own padding, grunting loudly as he massaged the sodden padding with his hands without a hint of shame. The unexpected pleasure was so strong that he didn’t even notice as he laid his head down in the salarian’s piss. The genetically perfect krogan, who had the potential to become one of the strongest fighters in the galaxy. The well-trained turian vigilante, who had successfully brought multiple organized crime groups to their knees. The genius salarian, whose work had helped to weaken an entire race, who cured plagues in his spare time. Just a few hours ago, the trio had been part of one of the most unique and powerful teams in the galaxy, but there was no way to tell that from looking at them now. — “I think I would have to call this test a complete success,” the Illusive Man chuckled, saving the recording of the experiment for later use. “Of course, we still need to test it on an asari, but given the results so far…” he stood up from his seat, pacing across the room to stare out the window at the raging sun. “The time is nearly here. Soon, the rest of the Council races will be far too concerned with filling their pants to rule the galaxy, and humanity will be perfectly positioned to fill their place.” He stalked back over to his chair and sat down, causing the seat of his diaper to squish audibly. He let out a sigh, leaning back and restarting the recording of the experiment from the beginning. Now that the work was done, he could finally enjoy it properly. As he watched Garrus and Grunt starting to take off their armor in the medical bay, the Illusive Man reached one hand down to rub his throbbing shaft through the material of his soaked diaper. “I’ll have to have Miranda send those three back here for… follow-up tests,” he sighed, watching as the turian and krogan donned diapers for the first time. “But for now, the video will do just fine.”