The two-person chair did in fact swing, and it took a bit of doing to get comfortable in it. But after Tor pulled be closer so that my back rested against his chest, it worked well.
“Partake, my friends,” Mulo addressed the crowd, which at my count numbered about thirty or so. “Eat, drink, and may the festivities begin!”
A rumble of music poured from unseen holo-speakers. It flowed about the room in rhythmic beats accompanied by a flute instrument. Cube-shaped robots gathered food and drink from the table, portioning it and floating on air to deliver it to the attendees. One such droid gave us a platter with brown mash, blue meat, purple vegetables, and sparkling bread along with two goblets of a pungent smelling drink.
I held my nose and asked the robotic waiter, “May I have some water?”
The droid blinked twice without answering, then dashed to the far side of the room and through a doorway, which I assumed led to the kitchens.
“Was that a no?” I glanced over my shoulder at Tor.
He shrugged and pulled a canteen from his vest. “Here, drink this.” He handed it to me and placed the goblets on the floor beside our swinging chair. “Only this.”
I tipped it back, allowing enough to wet my dry throat. “Good call. Who knows what’s in those drinks. Do we dare try the food?”
“I recognize some of it, although it wouldn’t be my first choice.” He ripped off a chunk of the blue meat and purple root-like vegetable. “These two are safe. The other stuff I’m unsure of.”
“Let’s stick to what you know.” I picked a piece of each and held it before my mouth. “Well, here goes.” The meat tasted like burnt chicken and the veggie was like an…apple? Pear? It was somewhere between the two. Confusing, but not bad. “It’s not the worst I’ve ever had.”
Tor ate his portion and took a swig from the canteen. “That about sums up the flavor. Neither good, nor bad.”
I wanted to ask the commander where the food came from. I was particularly curious about the blue meat, but a harsh gong broke our dinner conversation. Mulo had climbed atop the table at its center. The gong was a star-shaped hunk of glowing metal that descended from the ceiling and hung above his head. He used an enormous club to bash it. “And for our event this evening we have,” the capo dropped the club and raised an ornate goblet to the audience, “lustrara tempara.”
Excited murmurs and chatter broke out amongst the attendees. I spun in our seat so I could look at Tor. “Do I want to know?” I raised a brow at him.
The grimace on his face was answer enough.
Mulo’s voice rose above the crowd, “Yes! It will be a grand affair.” He chugged the contents of the goblet, then threw the empty cup to the floor. It clanged as it landed and rolled onto a nearby pillow. “Before we get to the main course, I have an appetizer to wet your desires.” He held his beefy arm before him and swung it toward the back of the room. “Behold.”
A spotlight glowed a bright, golden light toward the far end of the table, highlighting a trio of aliens. Two of the group had aquatic features with large fins on the sides of their heads, bulbous eyes, webbed fingers, and fishtails. Their skin was a slick silvery-blue, and with the exception of slight differences in their facial features, they could have passed for twins. The third was smaller than the other two with long black hair, purple-hued skin, smaller eyes, and a set of tentacles instead of legs—or a fish tail.
“A peorna pod.” Tor sucked in a breath as he leaned closer to the edge of our seat. “I’ve heard rumors of their kind. But their highly isolated on their home world.” His arms went around me as if without conscious thought. “What are they doing here?”
“I’d imagine it has something to do with this loose-trah event, no?” I held onto his forearms to balance in the chair.
He frowned. “Lustrara tempara.”
“Yeah, that.” I squeezed his arms. “And what is that?”
A grumble vibrated in his chest, the sensation tickling my back. “It’s a—”
The music rose again, louder than before. The drumbeats punctuated the flute notes like a pulse beneath the melody. The golden light brightened, and the trio began to dance. The purple alien, who I believed was female, waved her tentacles in a sensuous display, as if each undulated to their own rhythm. The silver-blue pair, who I guessed were male, pressed her tentacles to their humanoid chests and stroked them with long, webbed fingers.
“Marvelous, aren’t they?” The capo shouted over the music. He had taken a seat at the opposite end of the table, not far from ours. It was a mammoth, lush cushion that hung on invisible wires and molded to his body as he half-reclined. “A true splendor! And a testament to my gang.”
“They work for the Mangox?” I cupped my hand around my mouth and scooted up to ask it in Tor’s ear.
He held me as I balanced in his lap, and said back, “I doubt it’s a congenial arrangement.”
“No, Rhonar.” The capo snapped in our direction. “Patience,” he waved a paw at us, “that’s for later.”
I pulled a face, my nose scrunching. “What’s he talking about?”
Tor glanced at where I knelt in his lap. The position did appear suggestive, but what did that Mangox bastard think we were going to do? A sinking sensation plopped in my gut. I moved to sit beside the commander and turned my attention back to the trio. The knot in my stomach tightened as the peorna pod’s display had grown…graphic.
“Isthatwhat he thought?” I shouted to Tor. He didn’t answer, and I didn’t look at him. My gaze was glued on the aliens.
The pair had each taken a place before the female, one behind her and one in front. The front male was kneeling between her tentacles, right at the spot where a human female’s pussy would be. His ear fins flapped vigorously as his face was buried below. The male behind her had flipped his tail underneath her and rocked her on it. His amphibious lips sucked on the side of her neck, leaving marks in the wake of his touch.
