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Sexy Space Babes - Mechs, Maidens and Macaroons: Chapter Eight
🕑 Added 2025-05-18 09:49:54 +0000 UTCReturning to consciousness came with a mixture of sensations for Mark.
First, there was a pleasant warmth, soft and pervasive, that seemed to have spread all across his torso and the entirety of his right arm. It was in his opinion significantly more pleasant than his earlier experiences lying on the threadbare sheets of his apartment’s sole bed.
Very nice.
Of course, that was the positive side of the contrasts that he’d woken to. Or rather, been woken by - because the less pleasant sensation was that of his omni-pad ringing.
Relatively quiet, but no less insistent because of it, its ongoing buzzing could not be ignored for long.
Despite his best efforts.
Grudgingly, he stirred, blinking sleep from his eyes, as the dim light of Krenheim’s artificial dawn filtered through his apartment’s massive windows. Though as he reached over to fumble for where he vaguely recalled his omni-pad was supposed to rest, he found his movements stymied by that pleasant warmth and weight he’d noticed earlier.
Groggily glancing down, a smile slipped across his face as he found the cause of his momentary immobility.
Jelara.
Her jelly-like form had spread out in the night, no longer confined to the humanoid shape she’d worn so seductively hours ago.
Now, she was a soft, pliable blanket, her blue mass pooling across his torso and the rest of his bed, some of it leaking over the side – though not quite touching the floor. As he watched, the entire thing pulsed with gentle bioluminescent colors that seemed to bloom and fade in time with each ‘breath’ she took.
The sight was equal parts bizarre and endearing.
Unfortunately, as comfortable as she was, he still needed to get to the omni-pad. So he shifted to extricate himself as gently as he could, slipping out of the almost possessive weight of her gel-like form. Which was harder than it sounded, given the way her gel seemed to cling to him as he pulled away.
Indeed, his movements elicited a low, melodic grumble from the blue puddle, one rendered in a language he didn’t recognize. All liquid syllables and soft trills impossible for a humanoid voice box, he could only assume it was the native language of an Ulnus.
Either way, it sounded like a sleepy protest, one totally at odds with the street-smart femme fatale she’d been last night.
“Cute,” he murmured under his breath, carefully peeling one final tendril from his chest.
The omni-pad buzzed again, and Mark finally grabbed it from the floor by his bed, wincing a little as his feet touched the cold tiles. Now pretty much fully awake as a result of it though, he swiped the screen, squinting at the caller ID.
Tenir Varnis, Vorn Enterprises.
Kalia Vorn’s manager.
Quirking an eyebrow, he accepted the call, keeping his voice low to avoid waking Jelara.
“Mark here,” he said, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Morning, Mark,” came Tenir’s voice, crisp and clipped. “I apologize for waking you at this hour, but you’ll be needed at the estate in two hours. Kalia’s hosting a sponsor for an early brunch, and you’ll be catering.”
Mark glanced at the time on the omni-pad: 5:47 AM, Krenheim Standard.
Brunch? he thought.
He stifled a snort. At this hour, it was breakfast, plain and simple. An early breakfast, though it would be less so by the time he arrived. Of course, he knew that a ‘business breakfast’ just didn’t sound nearly as trendy as a ‘business brunch’. To aliens or humans, it seemed.
That was a bit of a cultural coincidence he’d discovered that both Earth and Imperium shared – and now seemingly Krenheim too. Of course, he knew culturally Krenheim was very much a Consortium world, despite its independent status, so he could only assume that business brunches were considered fancier in the Consortium too.
That was… mildly interesting. Perhaps even worth a hypernet search later.
For now though, he nodded.
“I assume this counts as an ‘out of hours’ call in,” he said, keeping his tone professional despite the fact he was currently entirely naked, a literal puddle of alien goo snoring softly behind him. “Not that I’m complaining or anything. Merely confirming.”
“You’d be correct. You’ll be compensated appropriately according to your contracted rate. Provided you aren’t late. Nendra will be in front of your building in fifteen minutes.” With that, the line clicked dead before he could respond.
He wasn’t too bothered by that. Being a chef meant developing a thick skin for briskness. It was just business. If there wasn't time for pleasantries, it was likely because she was in a hurry to move on to another task.
With that in mind, Mark tiredly ran a hand through his hair as his eyes flicked to Jelara.
Part of him considered waking her and explaining that he’d need to head out, but in the end though he decided against it.
Instead, he tiptoed over to the counter and grabbed a bit of paper from the counter – originally one the promotional flyers that he’d grabbed along with his grocery haul - and scrawled a quick note.
Jelara, had to run for work. Please lock the door when you leave. Last night was… wow. Let’s talk soon - Mark.
He hesitated for just a moment, then added a winky face for good measure. Feeling a bit like a teenager leaving a note for a crush, he nonetheless stuck it to the fridge where she’d see it.
Hopefully she wouldn’t take offense at him bolting without waking her.
Ignoring the clothes strewn about the floor, he tiptoed into the bathroom for a lightning fast shower, before opening his wardrobe and pulling out a clean set of clothes.
All the while, Jelara continued to snooze, utterly dead to the world as he freshened up.
He hesitated just a little as he saw where his pistol was on the floor. In the end, he decided not to bring it today. Tenir said Nendra would be picking him up out front. And given how particular they’d been about security when he’d last been at the estate, it didn’t seem wise to bring along a firearm.
Of course, his collection of knives and other cookware were a different story as he slung them over his shoulder, the bag clinking slightly as he did. With one final glance at Jelara, he smiled, before slipping out the door, locking it behind him.
---------------------------------------
Mark hummed quietly to himself as he set out his cookware on the counter, Tenir, Kalia’s manager, watching him quietly from the corner of the room as he carefully laid out each implement.
He ignored her, for the most part, focused as he was on the task in front of him.
Breakfast – or brunch, he supposed.
To that end, he considered whipping up an omelette, something simple and universal, before deciding against it. Eggs – be they chicken or their alien equivalents, were a staple across the universe.
No, he was trying to make a good first impression and an omelet would be… too pedestrian. A decent choice for later down the line, as eggs of any kind were always a good way to show off a chef’s skills, but for the moment he needed something a little more interesting from the outset.
By that same token, he didn’t want to get too exotic and overextend himself prior to establishing a baseline.
This was supposed to be a business lunch after all. The food was an afterthought.
“Sorry for throwing you into the fire like this,” she said from the corner of the room, her voice professional, but carrying a hint of genuine regret. “Kalia usually insists on sampling a new chef’s work before they cook for clients, but this meeting was… unexpected.”
Mark nodded distractedly. “S’no problem. You’re paying me well enough that I’d have popped down here in the dead of night blindfolded if you asked.”
As he said the words, his eyes landed on a slab of fresh salmon, its pink flesh glistening under the kitchen’s soft lighting.
It was fresh. Actually fresh. Having never been frozen.
“Stasis tech really is crazy,” he muttered as opened up the very expensive looking container – allowing time to once more have a hold over the slab of fish within. At least, until he’d extracted the cuts he’d needed, before slamming the machine shut once more, freezing the fish in time once more.
…Or something. He didn’t actually know if the stasis units stopped time or just did… something else to keep the food utterly pristine.
All he knew was that the tech was absurdly expensive. Still, he was thankful for it as he placed a truly delectable looking slab of pink salmon onto the counter.
Already, he knew what to pair it with.
Potato rosti.
That felt like the right move. The pairing of the fresh and exotic fish with the significantly more rustic potatoes would make the whole thing feel just sophisticated enough to impress without veering into pretentious territory.
Both would also play nice with his two guest’s palates, which, according to his readings, were more partial to subtle flavors.
Of course, even though his course was now decided, he couldn’t deny the sensation of a small nervous flutter that flared briefly in his chest.
This was… an important moment for him.
He needed Kalia to like his food.
Because the woman effectively held his life in her hands.
It was funny how that thought genuinely hadn’t occurred to him until right now. But it was true. If she didn’t like his food, or worse, took a dislike to him for any reason, he was in deep trouble.
It wasn’t like he could just… go back to Earth if his contract was cut short.
And Krenheim? Now that he’d actually seen what it was like?
Beautiful and mesmerizing as his new home was, well, it was dangerous. The kind of dangerous that wouldn’t be kind to a young man who’d suddenly found himself without a steady income.
Sure, a good cook was always useful in all parts of the galaxy, so he’d probably be able to find other work here… but even so…
“Mark, are you ok?” Tenir asked. “I need to remind you that we’re on a timetable here.”
Her words were prompt, but not unkind and he shook his head.
“Just, uh, planning things out before I start,” he said.
The Nighkru didn’t look entirely convinced, but didn’t argue as he started dicing the potatoes into fine shreds.
Then he squeezed out the extra moisture to get them ready for frying.
Then they went into a hot pan, the sizzling oil within more than ready to crisp up the new additions.
And as his hands moved, he found the familiar act of cooking anchoring his thoughts.
He was a chef.
A damn good one.
And strange new place or not, there was no way he was going to fail to impress.
So he seared the salmon next, its skin crisping with a satisfying pop in a way similar, and yet entirely different, to the rosti. In moments, the rich briny scent of a fish that had been born halfway across the galaxy filled the air.
He added a little thyme, an important ending point to the dish together with a subtle herbaceous note.
“Hmmm,” Tenir noted, a faint approval in her tone as her gleaming silver eyes regarded the sizzling fish.
Not that Mark needed any approval.
He was in the zone as he flipped the now formed rosti with a practiced flick of the wrist. “Good, isn’t it? Salmon’s a favorite of many cultures back on Earth. They’ve got a richer flavor than most, but one that’s still subtle enough to complement other ingredients without overpowering them.”
“It certainly smells good. Hopefully, Kalia and her client will also enjoy it,” the Nighkru said professionally.
“Here’s hoping,” Mark hummed as he set about plating the finished dishes, the plates of salmon and potato rosti.
They looked good. Damn good.
“Excellent,” Tenir said as she looked over the presentation. “Now you just need to take it to the dining room, hand it off silently, and leave.”
He did? Normally that was someone else’s job. Then again, he normally worked in a restaurant rather than someone’s home.
And he supposed there wasn’t much point in having a private human chef creating authentic human cuisine if you didn’t explicitly make it clear by displaying said chef.
He nodded, adjusting the plates in his hands. “Understood.”
Taking a moment to ensure his outfit didn’t have any stains, he followed the Nighkru towards the dining hall.
As they neared an arched doorway, the businesswoman slowed, a small frown adorning her features as she hovering just in front of the open door. Stopping just behind, he could hear voices drifting out.
Daring to steal a glance inside, he got his first look at his current employer.
Kalia Vorn sat at a long obsidian table, her red skin vibrant under the overhead lights.
Another Vrekian, like the one who'd owned the gun store – which he'd since learned were actually specifically a sub-species of surface dwelling Nighkru.
Knowledge that made certain similarities to her business manager - in the way her silver eyes gleamed and her horns stood out against her forehead - make more sense in retrospect. where they differed was in the reverse-jointed nature of the red-skinned woman's legs.
Not just in the way they were shaped, but also in that they very clearly ended in hooves, which were crossed with casual defiance.
That, and the fact that his employer was likely all of five feet tall had she been standing, her rather diminutive shape buoyed somewhat by the rather tall chair she was currently sitting in.
Across from her sat her ‘guest’, a more standard Nighkru of the same ilk as Tenir, the other woman’s elongated limbs poised with calculated grace that stood in contrast to Vorn’s more casual slouch.
He paused, wondering whether to move ahead or not, only for Tenir to make the decision for him as she idly held up a hand, shaking her head.
All the while, the conversation within continued.
“I don’t understand what is so complicated about this? The instructions emailed to you were quite clear,” the Nighkru said, her voice smooth but edged with accusation.
Kalia leaned forward, her hooves tapping a slow rhythm against the floor. “Because, Lirien, it’s hard to attribute my victory to the ‘prowess’ of Mankul manufacturing when it was pretty clear to anyone who attended that match that I won in spite of my primary armament rather than because of it.”
His employer shrugged. “Your damn laser somehow manages to both run hotter and still needs more time on target to achieve a decent effect than the previous model. Something I can only attribute to you choosing to save cash by sourcing bargain basement focusing lenses for this latest design.”
Lirien’s laugh was sharp, like glass breaking. “You’d be entirely correct, my dear. Of course, while I can see why that would be a little inconvenient from your perspective, you have to understand that it only made sense from ours. What with our recent acquisition of Korhel manufactories, we’re saving a hefty packet on each new unit by keeping the production entirely in house.”
Vorn shook her head. “Something I could understand if those savings were reflected in the price. Instead, what has it been? A ten percent markup from the last model? Korhel designed lenses for mining, not combat, last I checked.”
“That it did.” Lirien shrugged. “Though, I can’t help but wonder what the price matters to you, dear? It’s not like you’re the one who’s paying for it.”
Vorn’s face twitched, as she visibly swallowed down a response, something the Nighkru seemed to take as a win, before she continued in a more reassuring manner.
“Again, I’m not trying to be difficult here, but we have an arrangement that we would like to see honored. All we need is a few words at the end of the match about the new model.”
Vorn scowled, shaking her head. “Our contract specifies that I use your tech. I’ll not complain about that – even if this latest ‘update’ has been a very unpleasant surprise this deep into the season. Nothing in the fineprint or elsewhere specifies that I need to lie to my fans about the performance of the weapon though. I can’t badmouth it, and I won’t, but I don’t need to sing its praise either.”
The Nighkru’s smile didn’t falter, but her tone grew colder, a blade wrapped in silk. “Ah, and that is very true. Were I here in my capacity as your sponsor, that would be a very decent shield. Unfortunately, I’m not here as your sponsor. I’m here as one of your mother’s newest business partners. And she made certain assurances when we last spoke. Assurances that certainly hold more weight than any contract we might have.”
A storm of emotions flickered across Kalia’s face - anger, frustration, and something deeper, more vulnerable. Her shoulders tensed, her hooves stilling as if bracing for a blow. Finally, she exhaled, her posture loosening, though her eyes remained hard.
“One sentence.”
The Nighkru’s smile widened, triumphant yet restrained. “That’s all we ask. Honestly, I still don’t see what all the fuss is about. I understand wanting to protect your brand - this piloting gimmick you’ve picked up is a downright inspired move - but don’t get so caught up on short term gains that you lose sight of the end goal.”
Vorn’s frown only deepened, but before she could say anything more, she was interrupted as Mark suddenly found himself – not ungently – shoved into the room. Slightly surprised, he managed not to stumble or spill either plate, as both sets of eyes turned towards him.
Mark froze, though he managed to resist the urge to turn a gimlet eye in Tenir’s direction as he straightened up.
Keeping her words in mind, he tried to keep his back straight as he strode over and deposited the dishes before each woman.
“Well, well, what’s this?” Lirien said, eying both him and the dish.
He paused in the act of getting ready to leave, wondering if he was supposed to answer given his earlier instructions. In the end, he decided it would be stranger not to speak.
“It’s a Smoked Salmon Potato Rosti Stack ma’am,” he said in his most… customer facing voice. “Something of a regional favorite on Earth and recreated here on Krenhiem using only the freshest of ingredients. I hope it garners your favor.”
Right, that wasn’t terrible, though it was a little hard to tell as Lirien had kept the exact same smile up from the moment she’d spotted him and Vorn had barely glanced at him or the food since he’d entered. Still, with a final nod, he turned to leave.
Only to pause as Lirien spoke up. “Oh, no need to dash off so quickly. Why don’t you stay, handsome? Pull up a seat, tell us about yourself. This conversation was winding down anyway, and I must admit I’m a little curious about little Vorn’s newest employee.”
At those words, Kalia’s disinterested affectation disappeared, as she turned to her guest. “I don’t think that will be necessary, Lirien. He’s here to cook, not be your entertainment.”
Lirien waved a dismissive hand, her silver skin glinting. “Come now, you make it sound like I’d have him dancing on the table. I just want to chat a little about…” she turned to him. “You said your homeworld was ‘Earth’ correct? That’s the human world?”
He froze, before glancing at Kalia. Because she was the one who really mattered here. At least to him.
The pilot hesitated, her hooves shifting under the table. She glanced at Mark, then back at Lirien, her expression torn between irritation and pragmatism. Finally, she sighed, her voice reluctant.
“Fine,” she gestured to the table. “I believe it was, Mark, wasn’t it? Feel free to take a seat.”
Mark blinked, feeling his heart sink a little at his easy escape from whatever this was slipped away from him. Still, he dutifully did as instructed, gently sliding into a chair between the two women, keeping his posture and expression neutral.
“Uh, yes, ma’am. Mark. Mark Reynolds.”
Lirien’s grin widened as she leaned back, appraising him. “So Mark, what brings a man like you to Krenheim?”
Mark glanced at Kalia, who’s attention had now shifted to the food in front of her, her fork hovering over the salmon.
He cleared his throat, keeping his tone light. “Well, I received a very generous job offer from Ms. Vorn here. And, well, it seemed like a good opportunity to get out and see the galaxy.”
And hell, that was even mostly true – though omitting the rather key detail that he was also likely on the run from Imperial Authorities. An independent system Krenheim might have been, but he doubted it would impress his employer overmuch to learn he was a wanted felon.
…Or perhaps it would? The culture of Krenheim was one he was still learning to navigate.
Still, he’d clearly not stepped too far wrong as Lirien’s eyes sparkled, her fork twirling idly.
“Well, I must say our little corner of the galaxy is all the more fortunate for your choice. Not least of all because of your skills? This ‘salmon’ smells divine.”
“Ah, I’m glad you think so,” Mark said, relaxing slightly as the topic shifted to food. “I must admit, I’ve less experience cooking for Nighkru or Vrekian, than I do other species, but what I’ve read suggests that the fish should suit your palates.”
To his right, at the far end of the massive table they were sitting at, Kalia took a bite, chewing deliberately. As she did, her expression softened slightly, before she gave a faint nod of approval. “My compliments then. Inexperienced in our ways or not, you chose correctly.”
Lirien followed, her fork cutting into the salmon with precision. She took a bite, her eyes fluttering briefly. “Oh, my. This is… exquisite. I’ll have to see about sourcing some of this ‘salmon’ for myself. I also like the way it contrasts with this crunchy item. It tastes almost like Kresh. If slightly less sweet.”
Mark nodded, getting into the conversation. “Yes, we call that a potato, and it occupies a similar role as Kresh does on many worlds. Which is to say that it’s a hardy winter crop that grows beneath ground. Amusingly, there does exist a variant of it on Earth known as the sweet potato, that is pretty much identical in flavor to Kresh, albeit slightly softer and colored orange rather than purple.”
Lirien laughed. “Oh? Well, you’ve experience with more… local ingredients as well? I had thought Earth only recently uplifted?”
He stifled the slight twitch of his eye at that. Uplifted. Like they’d been savages or something prior to the arrival of the Imperium.
“Well, after Earth’s conquest and occupation,” he made sure not to place too much stress on those two words. “I found myself employed in a restaurant that catered primarily to… off-world clientele.”
It felt a little strange to call an alien an alien when in this context, he was the off-worlder here.
“I believe that’s part of why Ms. Vorn’s staff reached out to me for employment here,” he continued. “As I’ve some experience cooking for differing species – and the complexities inherent in that role”
Lirien sighed, her flirtatious demeanor fading into something more calculated as she took another bite, humming appreciatively. “Well, her people certainly have an eye for talent. Though I must say, if you have an opening in your contract – or simply tire of this one – I think I might be able to find a place for you at my estate.”
“Lirien,” Vorn’s voice cut in tiredly. “If you’re planning to try and poach my staff out from under me, could you at least try to do it circumspectly? Not right in front of me.”
It was interesting though that despite her words, she didn’t actually seem all that bothered. More like she was just going through the motions.
Which… while a little offensive to his sense of worth, he supposed made sense. He was a temporary staff member here. Once the few months of his contract were up, he’d be a free agent again. What did it matter if he was employed by someone else? And by the same token, if someone chose to buy out his contract early, it wasn’t like Vorn really lost anything as buying out said contract would compensate her for the expense of shipping him out here.
Still, while he wasn’t the most business savvy guy around, he noted that Lirien’s words had been light on actual concrete terms and rather heavy on allusions.
Plus, given the way she’d been looking at him, he had a feeling she was only peripherally interested in his skills as a chef.
Which sounded more than a little arrogant out of context, but… aliens really did tend to be that thirsty.
Especially if they were powerful and you were an exotic trophy they’d be able to crow about to their fellow fuckboys. Or fuckgirls, he supposed.
So, he simply offered a polite smile. “My thanks for the offer, ma’am, but for the moment I’m more than content in Ms. Vorn’s employ. Her staff have been very welcoming.”
He didn’t miss the way the woman in question sat up a little straighter at that – even if he was pretty sure she’d had next to nothing to do with employing him or situating him - even as Lirien pouted.
“Ah, drats,” she said. “I suppose I’ll simply have to revisit the matter once your contract is up.”
Yes, he supposed she would. Though he also suspected the likelihood of her doing so depended heavily on if humans were still the flavor of the month a few months down the line.
At the very least, he was almost entirely sure his services would command significantly less funding than he currently enjoyed with Vorn as the novelty of his race lost its shine.
From there, the conversation continued on to different topics, as the two women spoke casually about this or that bit of business. Almost all of which went entirely over his head. It didn’t help that the two would occasionally switch to bits of… whatever the language of the Nighkru was called.
Whether that was to hide the details of something sensitive from him or simply out of habit, he didn’t know. Personally, he suspected the latter, as the two seemed to have entirely forgotten he existed after that initial spark of interest.
Which suited him right down the ground. He was here to cook, not be tugged into a proverbial dick waving contest between the two. Truth be told, he quite desperately wanted to leave, but didn’t exactly have the option.
Instead, he could only inwardly sigh in relief as the conversation finally reached a natural conclusion and Lirien stood up to leave.
“Well, ignoring the rough start, this has been a delightful meeting, Kalia.” As Vorn nodded, the Nighkru turned to him. “Again, my thanks for cooking this lovely meal. Perhaps, after I leave, I might get your contact details from Kalia’s people? I’d love to hear your recommendations on where to source more of that ‘salmon’ from.”
Again, he glanced at Kalia, who shrugged, as if to say it made no difference to her.
“I’d be delighted,” he said finally. “As you said, Tenir has my contact details.”
The alien woman smiled like the cat that caught the canary. “Excellent. Perhaps we might speak on… other parts of human culture as well. Until then though, handsome.”
He resisted the urge to twitch as her hand brushed against his shoulder as she slid past and toward the door.
Then she was gone and the dining room fell silent, the clink of Kalia’s fork absent now that her plate was empty. And there was no denying that a certain amount of tension that seemed to have pervaded the room from the moment he’d stepped inside had dissipated with the woman’s departume.
Still, Mark stayed seated, unsure if he’d been dismissed. Instead, he simply watched as Kalia leaned back, her upright posture fading into something heavier, horns tilted as she rubbed her temple.
Finally, she spoke.
“I apologize for putting you in that position,” she said, her voice low, almost reluctant. “You’re employed here as a chef.”
That… surprised him. He’d honestly gotten the feeling over the course of the conversation that his employer was just plain… disinterested in him. To her, he was simply one of the staff. Not entirely distinct from a piece of equipment.
So an apology was more than a little unexpected.
He simply shrugged, keeping his tone easy. “It’s fine. I dealt with worse back at the restaurant. I’ll take a flirty Nighkru businesswoman over a grabby Shil marine any day.”
Kalia’s lips quirked, something akin to actual amusement fluttering in her eyes for a moment. “I can imagine. Still, you handled it well. So you have my thanks for that.”
“S’no problem. You’re certainly paying enough for me that I’d endure much worse.”
This time, she actually laughed. “I’ll have to keep that in mind. Though in truth, I wouldn’t know the details. That’s all Tenir’s department.” She shifted her head to look at him. “I can only hope you weren’t too expensive.”
He smirked. “I’d like to think I’m being paid what I’m worth. You said you liked the salmon after all.”
She lay back, leaning her head against the chair. “I did. It was damn good. Smoky.”
He resisted the urge to point out that said flavor was a preparation method that had become popular as a member of flavoring said meat.
Smoking as a method of food preservation was a pretty universal theme across the universe after all.
Every race had some form of jerky.
The moment lingered, the tension easing. Mark hesitated, then took a chance. “If I can ask… why handle this yourself? Seems like something Tenir could’ve negotiated.”
Kalia’s hooves tapped lightly, her gaze drifting to her empty plate, and for a moment he thought she wouldn’t answer.
“Sometimes it pays to do it myself. It makes ‘sponsors’ like Lirien step a little more lightly if they have to deal with me. Tenir’s better at this kind of thing to be sure, but that doesn’t mean much if they can just run roughshod over her. With me, at least they have to be polite.”
Mark nodded, sensing a lot of unspoken implications behind those words. Whatever his employer’s relationship with her mother and how it impacted her role as a gladiator, it really wasn’t any of his business.
So, he didn’t push. Instead, he started to rise, taking her silence as a cue. “I’ll get these cleared-”
“Hold on,” Kalia said, her voice softening. She met his eyes, her black gaze sharp but not unkind. “I heard from Saria that you’ve never seen a gladiator match?”
He paused, surprised by the shift. “No? I mean, I haven’t. Been meaning to, though.”
She nodded, a wry grin crossing her face. “Well, if you’ve been meaning to, then I can save you some trouble. Speak to Tenir at some point before you head out today. She’ll organize tickets for you. Good ones. My treat.”
Mark blinked, caught off guard. “That’s… generous. Thanks.”
Kalia’s lips curved into a genuine smile, small but warm. “Think nothing of it. I really did enjoy the food. Plus, think of it as compensation for being pulled into… this.”
With that, she went silent, and he knew he really had been dismissed.
Still, as he stepped out of the room, he felt good. It’d been a little strange, but he’d pulled through and his employer had liked his food. His job was safe for the moment.
And hell, he’d even gotten some free tickets out of the deal.
Not bad at all.
Comments
Blue Fishcake
Beta readers have it :D
Blue Fishcake
Just letting ya'll know it's likely to be another Sunday release :D
Blue Fishcake
Maybe you've got some greek blood in you :D Edit: Out of curiosity, I just discovered that female satyrs are entirely an invention of post-roman Europeans :P
Hunter
I’m LOVING this story so far… and only partially cause I love food so much. Also… the alternate Nighkru sound positively adorable!… I was expecting the males to be short or something, but it seems the whole species are just some small fries, and I love an adorable short stack!😂
Edward
Alright, between this one and Lin maybe I just have a thing for goat girls.
Blue Fishcake
Not to get up my own ass with 'fancy' foods, but a Shakshuka is also an excellent easy option. One of Blue's favorites when they can be bothered to make it :D
Blue Fishcake
;D
Blue Fishcake
Aw, that's actually really nice to hear. I've been greatly enjoying getting back into space, but I was a little worried the switch back to something very low stakes after Sect and Steam would be a bit... well, boring for my readers. Glad to see I've managed to bring you around :D
Blue Fishcake
Fixed, thanks :D
Jon Arbuckle
species is used rather than specifics as one typo.
Kaywye
Damn. Here I was, simply marking time until the return of Steam, and yet this story actually stoked my interest, and now I am enjoying it immensely. Different in a refreshing way. I love the unconscious arrogance of certain species...especially regarding the "uplifting" of earth. The talent you show across multiple genres and settings points to actual skill rather than just focus on one project.
Folly Industries
Hah! I love reading these by email because I get the little accidental spoilers for future chapters
Drunk Pop-Tart
I was wondering what Rosti was as i was reading it and searched a good recipe for it. Long story short, i'm making that for breakfast tomorrow.
ImMoralMage
Thanks for the chapter!
ColonelCodfish
Don’t listen to the naysayers, my guy. Steam was fun, but I for one am absolutely ecstatic to be back in space. First thing I read from you was SSB. Only time I ever came for the porn and stayed for the plot. Shame you say it’s your last story in this verse cause it’s by far my favorite setting, but again, being back at all is awesome. Keep it up, brother!
Trevayne
Good update and we finally get to see Mark's employer and some of her situation.
Trevayne
I wouldn't be surprised if her suit has a text to speech feature. She might not be able to read letters by sound, but the ability is too useful to be ignored and the tech wouldn't be that difficult.
Blue Fishcake
Liberation would be an odd choice of word given Earth was only under its own governments prior to the invasion. Uplift is a better word to my mind. The right mix of wrong and condescending. Much in the same way that nations like the US and Australia were 'colonized' rather than 'conquered'.
22junk
Slow isn’t bad. I think you said at some point this was a slice of life story. Let it cook.
Zeoncobra
“I must admit, I’ve less experience cooking for Nighkru or Vornek, than I do other species, but what I’ve read suggests that the fish should suit your palates.” Is Vornek supposed to be Vrekian? Lirien laughed. “Oh? Well, you’ve experience with more… local ingredients as well? I had thought Earth only recently uplifted?” In many SSB fan stories, liberation is used to try and suparcoat the S.I.'s conquest of earth. Is uplift actually the word used in canon?
Atom
It's quite obvious that Kalia wants to...impress him. LOL
Blue Fishcake
Always nice to hear :D I'm really trying not to rush from story beat to story beat like I did with Steam.
CM
Thanks for the chapter. I'm really enjoying this story so far.
Mr von Twistern
Hooray for our weekly dose of fishcake!
Blue Fishcake
He was also acting as an informant for the resistance and his contact was captured.
Mario Beretic
Why was mark a wanted felon again? I thought he ran off after he caught his girlfriend cheating?
Bas van Lissum
Very nice chapter, good timing on meeting the big boss and interesting details about her.
Skonnchy
Jelara can't read letters because of her "sonar" sight, can she? I bet she's gonna be upset with him disappearing on her with no explanation :(
Blue Fishcake
Bit of a slow one - unfortunate for a web serial when you're waiting week to week - but the next will be more exciting :D
