“Pass me a piece of that buttock, won’t you?” beckons Pinrut Slienad.

  Happily obliging, his good friend Morlakan Sturwens slices a piece and grabs it with a fork, handing it over to him on a petite porcelain dish. With a dainty dab in a flavorful sauce to accompany it, Pinrut once more found his mouth to be welcomed with a taste that was, in all, most delightful to him.

  Joined by him at this quiet and leisurely meeting are three others aside from Morlakan; Viskarin, Lutus, and Rabilin. All men present, with varying degrees of being known to popular knowledge, typically represent polarizing or divisive rhetoric towards the other in public, being figures of the most affluent of backgrounds. Here, it is a nice reprieve from the prying eyes, and they can once more gather around to relax as friends in this humbly luxurious dining room. A seat remained open however, as they expected the arrival of a sixth person at the table.

  “You know, this was my favorite one,” Lutus sighed, looking somewhat longingly at the main course. “Always gave me the most exciting and pleasurable sensations. You’re a real jackass for demanding this kind of payment, you know that Pinrut?”

  “I told you, you’ve been owing me some,” chuckles Pinrut in return as he takes a sip from his champagne. “I expect housewarming gifts for my effort, and I figured this is the right and most diplomatic way to go about resolving any issues between us.”

  “Could’ve picked any other one like normal,” mutters Lutus.

  “On the bright side, you have great taste,” mumbles Viskarin through a bite, wiping his mouth. “No wonder this one’s your favorite, what a privilege.”

  “Oh, but where am I to find another one as satisfying as that one,” laments Lutus.

  “Oh, quit your griping and enjoy our dinner together, Lutus,” gripes Rabilin. “Get your moods up! We’re expecting a very special guest soon, we should prepare him for our warm hospitality.”

  “It’s also been a while since we’ve all been together,” Morlakan warmly smiles. “Let us celebrate the coming of our divinely ordained ascension, it’s a very big occasion considering all of our hard work. I’m grateful for you all.”

  “Hear that, Lutus?” jabs Pinrut. “You’re still focused on the small things. Show some positivity around here like those two! Think bigger, we’ll have even more than what we already possess.”

  “I don’t have that much as you guys,” sighs Lutus. “I still have to deal with the indigenous on my resort-worlds.”

  “Now, now, Lutus,” continues Pinrut.

  “Alright, alright, I get it, I get it,” Lutus rolls his eyes. “I’ve learned my lessons, yeah? And yes, thank you, Viskarin, I like to consider that I have good taste in everything.”

  “Always the perfectionist,” chuckles Viskarin.

  “I like to consider myself of high standards,” Lutus jabs back.

  “Alright, enough, enough, fellas,” says Morlakan after taking another tasteful bite. “Where is our guest, anyhow? He should have been here quite a while ago, I find it impolite that he’s made us wait.”

  “Perhaps something’s gotten in the way for him, Morlakan,” replies Pinrut. “You know how things go, maybe the man needs to release some stress, let it be.”

  “Whoever he’s got better be worth it,” comments Morlakan as he takes a sip of champagne. “This is quite an important matter, he should especially know this as a guest.”

  As there were no butlers allowed in this room, a synthetic voice by the door announced its presence.

  “My good sirs, the Admiral Gahn Pei Ramlik of World Ulminh has arrived,” it said emotionlessly.

  “Ah, see, there he is!” Pinrut exclaims excitedly. “Just needed a bit of patience on our part. Bring him in!”

  The large double doors slowly opened up, and the five men warmly greeted Gahn with passion.

  From the other side of the doors, a weathered and exhausted Gahn stood. Everything had gone by as a blur. He wasn’t entirely sure where, or when, he was after everything. It could be the next day, it could be the next month, who knows. His memory is failing him at the moment. All he could remember is being taken into custody and separated from his men and women, before suddenly being thrust into whatever all of this is. Apparently he had come to be in very high demand as a person.

  Gahn looked into the luxurious dining hall, more opulent than anything he could previously imagine throughout his entire life. On the left side of the table sat Lutus and Morlakan, and on the right, sat Rabilin and Viskarin. Pinrut sat at the far end. Behind them is a grand view of a planet.

  Everything slowed down amidst their warm greetings as Gahn stared at what’s in front of him in abject terror.

  It made him sick to the stomach, his head began to swim, the room began to spin, and he almost felt himself fainting with the urge to vomit. His breathing quickened to accommodate for the rush.

  Is that a female youth on the table? The body looked to belong to that of someone much younger than his youngest daughter as it laid cut open on the table. The eyes remained open with an intense expression of fear, and upon seeing the clamps binding her to the table at the wrists, neck, and ankles, Gahn felt an immediate and even more intense revulsion that nearly gave him a heart attack altogether.

  “Are you alright, Mr. Gahn?” asks Pinrut. “You look ill, shall we consider bringing in any treatments for you? We have the best amongst the stars here.”

  In that small moment, a flurry of paranoid instincts rushed through Gahn, and he gathered all the strength and will to power through.

  “N—No, thanks,” Gahn manages to say. “Thank you for your hospitality—everything here is just new to me.”

  “Oh, well in that case, no worries,” Pinrut replies charmingly. “Please, have a seat. Care for a bite? They’re a dying race, I encourage you to get a taste before you leave, especially when it’s still fresh.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “I apologize, I didn’t know the meeting would be over dinner and made sure to eat before coming here,” Gahn lied. “I’m sure there must have been a miscommunication on the way, but I am full, thank you.”

  “No need to apologize, Gahn,” says Pinrut, knowing that Gahn is lying. There could have been no such miscommunication. “It wasn’t your fault to begin with.”

  “I almost want to do it again, one last time,” mumbles Lutus as he caresses the meal’s hair.

  “Not at the dinner table, Lutus,” Rabilin groans to him. “And not in front of our guest.”

  Pulling his hair back, Lutus sinks slightly into his seat.

  Reluctantly, Gahn approaches the empty seat in front of him, and slowly sits down, now directly across the table from Pinrut. A quick round of introductions takes place amongst everyone, but he could barely hold together his focus and composure. Not far from him lay the person’s feet, and it took all of his mental power to keep himself together, pulling his sight away so that at least it had to sit in his peripheral vision.

  Each passing moment he hoped that he would suddenly just wake up.

  “So, Gahn,” continues Pinrut from whatever he was previously saying. “Without much further ado, I assume you already know why you’ve been brought here, yes?”

  “I think we all know,” replies Gahn, his voice slightly wavering. “But do remind me; I don’t prefer to make assumptions, especially out of you fine gentlemen.”

  “Why, of course,” replies Pinrut as he wiped his mouth. “As you can tell, we’ve taken notice that you’ve been part of the most compelling story of the year! It has been quite entertaining for us to watch, even if it has all been a threat that goes against our interests.”

  Gahn found himself confused at this. He’s read and heard of most of the men here. Aren’t they competing against each others’ interests in public? But he continued to listen.

  “Sadly enough for us and the greater good, despite your best efforts, we have all been betrayed by the disgraced General Hiau,” continues Pinrut. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have had to deal with the trouble of being brought all the way here, so our apologies, we do hope the hospitality makes up for the inconvenience.”

  “So, what do you want from me now?” says Gahn. For a moment, he slightly flinched at himself. Was the question too interrogative in tone of him to say?

  “We assume that you know the information we need to finally locate the planet of interest of which Zviedal and the Subject are headed too,” responds Pinrut. “Or at the very least, provide enough guidance for us to fill in the gaps with enough guesswork.”

  “What do you offer in return?” Gahn asks slowly.

  “In exchange for all of that, you have our gratitude,” says Pinrut delightfully. “We’ll offer you and your family a seat amongst us, beyond anything you can imagine. We’ll ensure the safety, security, and success of your family for generations.”

  Gahn quietly considers this thought for a moment. All of these words, and yet he still remembers Vertan, still ringing in his head. He lamented himself deeply for connecting all of the dots too late, too little, and not when he was given the privilege and luxury of Vertan still there laying it out in the open for him to see. At the time, he didn’t want to see.

  Now, he wasn’t interested in any such riches anymore. He wanted to go back to a simpler life, simpler times, and simpler problems.

  “And if I decline?” Gahn asks unsurely.

  “Ah, well,” Pinrut chuckles as he takes another bite out of the main course. “You won’t.”

  The smile that Pinrut grinned at Gahn sent shockwaves down his spine. It terrified him to no end. He couldn’t nor wanted to imagine such a fate befalling his family, as he continued keeping his chin up high in order to avoid looking down at the table.

  “Can these protections be extended to my homeworld, as well?” asks Gahn.

  “Please, you’re asking quite much,” says Rabilin. “We only have finite resources. We already have future developments planned, don’t you worry.”

  The statement only made Gahn feel even more queasy and at unease.

  “Very well, I understand,” says Gahn. He gulps as quietly as he could while maintaining his outward appearance. “I will uphold my end of this fair contract, you have my word.”

  “Splendid!” cheers Pinrut. “I believe that’s all we need to mention for now. Let’s enjoy the rest of our time here together, shall we?”

  “Cheers to us!” Morlakan toasts.

  “Cheers!” everyone besides Gahn follows. Even Lutus now appeared more upbeat than he was earlier.

  Gahn could only sit there in paralyzing terror as their meal continued with laughter and banter. Anytime one of them tried to approach Gahn with a conversation, he found himself with all of the concentration within him to politely decline or provide a minimal response.

  “Pardon me,” he says at last. “I must excuse myself.”

  And much to the rest’s lamentation, he removes himself from the dining room.

  The moment the doors closed behind him, he immediately rushed to find the nearest restroom. The winding corridors felt like a maze as he ran down the halls, and he felt the eyes of every single obscure piece of security boring down on his shoulders.

  At last, he finally makes it into a single-occupancy washroom, and locks himself in there. Just barely making it over to the toilet, he retches every single last drop out of his stomach, his head growing light as it swam, his body convulsing in pain with each forceful ejection.

  His breath shook as he attempted to slow his breathing, only to find himself throwing up again, and again, until he felt weak in the knees. This pattern would play out several more times.

  At last, he held himself there for a moment, his eyes unable to focus on anything. The man found himself drenched in sweat. The insanity of it all was too much for him.

  As the toilet flushed down the former contents of his stomach, he washed his mouth and face by the sink.

  As he stared up to his reflection in the mirror, he found that he couldn’t recognize the empty husk staring back from the other side.

  *****

  Back in the dining room, the five men found themselves in a more relaxed state now that Gahn had left.

  “Rude of him to leave so unexpectedly,” comments Morlakan. Growing full, he leans back leisurely in his chair.

  “I figure he’s useful within his parameters,” adds Viskarin as he wipes his mouth. “We don’t need him for anything after that. He’s not worth it anyways; few are, and he’s one of the bottom-feeders.”

  “True, I’ll give it that,” says Pinrut. “Ah, well, at least we did our best, anything else he feels about it is on him, really.”

  “Have you seen what’s been going around lately?” says Viskarin, lowering his voice. “This disease of instability has me worried. We ought to quicken our pace with this before it’s too late. I can’t tell if that guy’s going to be one of them or not.”

  “Well, it’s all necessary in the end, isn’t it?” quips Rabilin. “If we want to usher in new change, we must purge the afflicting. Not always an easy choice. But what we’re building will be astoundingly beautiful.”

  “It sure will be,” Pinrut smiles back. “It sure will be.”

  Once more staring longingly at the main course, Lutus wipes his finger from her lips, much of the makeup still there to present her attractively. Some of the makeup still remained as dried streaks running down each side of the face from the eyes from earlier. Bringing his finger to his tongue, it brought a sweet and nostalgic taste.

  What a shame, he thought.