Sexy Space Babes - Mechs, Maidens and Macaroons: Chapter Twenty Eight

“Nope, I’m out,” Saria said within seconds of laying eyes on the corner of the hangar Tenir had set up in. “I’ve got work to do. Real work. You know, for the match that’s happening in  less than three weeks!”

Of course, Mark was there as she started to turn back towards the mech, chuckling and guiding her by the elbow over to the table.

“Ah, you’ve been at it all day. I’m sure we can afford for you to cut out an hour or two early, just this once,” he said. “And I made food!”

After all, what kind of party was complete without party pies, mini-quiches and nachos? Or at least, the closest approximations he could create with local ingredients.

Sure, it was kind of… low-brow, but considering the food budget available to him and the fact that said party was taking place in one of the far corners of a warehouse, he figured his menu items were right at home.

The sight of them, sitting in the tray in his off-hand, made her hesitate, before she sighed. “Alright, I’m staying until the food is gone. Then I’m back to work.”

Mark smiled. “That’s all I ask.”

“Is that… Moonrot?” Jelara asked, eyes roaming over the gaming table and the many intricately painted – and oft times scantily clad – miniatures strewn across it.

Kalia, for her part, took everything in, before sighing fondly and sinking into one of the chairs. “Well, if we’re being forced to unwind…”

Tenir, undeterred, grinned widely as she continued deftly arranging the miniatures into their respective armies. “You two still remember the rules, right? If not, well, I’ll be explaining them anew to Jelara and Mark so it’s no big deal.”

“I remember. Mostly,” Kalia said with a small smile. “With that in mind, is there any issue with me going with the Order of Shadow again? I think I still mostly remember how they play.”

Tenir nodded eagerly, all-but shoving a portion of the minis – most of them clad in some variations of robes and hoods - in front of her seated friend in a manner not unlike how a dealer might shift chips around a casino table.

“Pleasure Cult,” Saria grunted as she shifted a bunch of half-naked males in front of herself.

Tenir paused, clearly thinking about arguing, before thinking better of it. “Fine. I suppose I should just take what’s leftover anyway.”

“How do you even have this stuff here anyway?” Saria continued as she rather indiscreetly looked under the robes of one her ‘pleasure cultists’. “Last I checked, there were still goons watching our apartments.” She paused, sending a frown Tenir’s way. “You better not have risked Kalia getting caught to bring this-”

“I keep my models in a bug-out bag,” Tenir interrupted. “I had it collected via a drone within the hour of us ‘escaping’.”

Saria groaned, her voice a low growl. “Of all the stuff you could have grabbed –  like clothes and  toiletries – you brought your models?”

“I brought those too!” Tenir shot back. “And on that front, you’ve hardly got room to talk given you didn’t bring anything!”

Perhaps coming from someone else, the banter may have seemed harsh, but between the two, there was almost a familiar warmth to it. Kalia certainly didn’t seem bothered as she sat back with a lazy smile, watching her two friends bicker. Idly, she reached out for a nacho, before hesitating.

“Uh, do we need cutlery for this? Does it go into a bowl or something,” she whispered.

“Nah, you eat with your hands, like this…” Mark shook his head while reaching over to grab a chip, making sure to get a decent portion of faux guacamole and cheese before placing it into his mouth.

“Oh, like Cutra!” Kalia grinned, grabbing a chip of her own. “Oh, this is good!”

The short conversation seemed to remind Tenir that there were people other than Saria present as she turned to Mark. “Mark, I assume you’ll want to go with the Scaled Queens?”

“The dinosaurs? Yeah, sounds like fun.”

He ignored the way Tenir pouted a bit at his incorrect naming usage, but his momentary amusement gave way to curiosity as he turned to ask Jelara if she was down to play.

To his surprise, she hadn’t tried to wander off, nor was she standing out the outskirts disinterestedly. Instead, she was quietly inspecting one of Tenir’s miniatures, her gloved fingers tracing its intricate surface with a quiet intensity, as her core pulsed faintly with green curiosity.

Huh… he thought.

Honestly, he’d kind of expected she’d be the hardest to convince to take the evening off – let alone play Tenir’s game.

Though now that he thought about it, she managed to identify that they were going to play ‘Moonrot’ on sight…

Something the group’s resident nerd clearly noticed too, her eyes widening as she surged over to the Ulnus, form shaking with barely contained excitement.

“Have you played Moonrot before, Jelara?” Tenir asked as she clutched the rulebook – an actual honest to God book – to her chest.

Jelara froze, her core flickering with a brief flush of indigo embarrassment, her form rippling as she set the miniature down.

“No, though this one sometimes perused the stores in her youth” she admitted slowly, her voice a low gurgle, her hues shifting to a dull pink. “Unfortunately, all this one could do was look, as the models were too expensive for her.”

Tenir’s face lit up though, doing nothing to suppress a high pitched ‘squee’. “Well, now’s your chance! Do you want to play the Battle Covens or the Intricate Menagerie?”

Mark didn’t hear the response as his attention was shifted by Saria’s sigh, her tail flicking about as she leaned back into her chair, her voice grudging but not truly annoyed. “At least the food’s good.”

Putting words to action, she snatched a party-pie, sharp teeth flashing as she bit into it and managed to scatter crumbs across the table.

And Tenir’s models…

Though to her credit, the Persin immediately noticed and hurriedly moved to wipe them away before Tenir noticed. Though she needn’t have bothered with haste, given how deeply focused on Jelara the Nighkru currently was.

Mark, for his part, just felt content, idly shifting a ‘dinosaur’ about the table as he watched Tenir guide Jelara into a seat.

The Ulnus’ form shifted a little awkwardly beneath her bodysuit as Tenir began explaining the game, her voice animated, hands gesturing wildly to illustrate different models and their purpose. Still, despite that, Mark liked to think he knew the jelly-woman well enough that he could also see hints of genuine interest and excitement.

Whether at the opportunity to fulfill some youthful fantasy, or simply because the hard-as-nails woman was also a secret nerd like Tenir, he couldn’t say. He was happy either way.

If nothing else, it was nice to see the crew relax for something that wasn’t sleeping or eating for the first time in over a week.

---------------------------

“And you’re sure it’s the women they took? It’s not a mistranslation?” Kalia asked.

“That’s what the scenario says,” Tenir repeated, a hint of irritation lacing her tone. “The village elder says that all of the village’s women have been kidnapped by a band of ravenous orcs.”

Mark, if he was fully being honest, didn’t really understand this game. Tenir was the ‘dungeon master’. And they had to beat her by beating her ‘quest’.

But she seemed way overpowered compared to the party! She was basically a god! A god who could apparently just summon a bunch of dragons if she wanted to kill the entire party.

…She also got to hide things behind a little cardboard screen – while the rest of them had to keep their ‘character sheets’ on display. For all he knew, she could just be making things up!

He didn’t think she was, but she could!

Fortunately, for the moment she seemed content to play with her food - in direct contrast to her actions in their first and last game of Moonrot for the evening. A game in which she’d slaughtered all of them with a horde of pastel colored clown-like creatures.

Not even a final alliance between the tribes of dinosaurs riding dinosaurs and whip-wielding bikini-wearing men could stop her.

…Mark had a feeling he’d been left for last out of pity and Saria had turned out to be surprisingly good at the game despite her proclaimed disdain for it.

He wasn’t being a sore loser.

Not at all.

“So a bunch of women have been abducted by a bunch of hunky barbarian dudes. Do you really think they’d thank us for ‘saving them’ from their imminent ravishing?” Saria scoffed as she munched a nacho. “I know I wouldn’t if a bunch of musclebound ‘orcs’ came and ‘kidnapped’ me.”

“This one thinks that rather depends on what these orcs look like. Amongst other factors,” Jelara responded. She paused, before slipping into character, her voice a low gurgle. “This one’s Nighkru rogue asks the village elder what orcs look like.”

“Drow. You’re a drow rogue. This game doesn’t have Nighkru. Not all silver-skinned things are Nighkru,” Tenir said flatly, before taking on a slightly more gravelly tone. “As for orcs, if you’ve never encountered them before, then you women should strengthen your will before facing them.”

She leaned forward. “For they are tempters! Don’t be fooled by their masculine charms. Beguiling as they might appear, they’re monsters who leave entire villages bereft of women. Lured away or taken by force to be their mountain-wives! As tall as any woman, their skin’s a lustrous gleaming green, with glistening muscles and tusks that catch the light.”

…Mark had a feeling that description wasn’t entirely correct – beyond the basics of orcs being green and kind of muscular.

“Sounds kind of racist,” Kalia pointed out, popping a fritter into her mouth, her silver skin catching the light. “Hot, but racist. Because these guys sound a lot like… male Shil’vati.”

“Male Shil’vati exist,” Mark pointed out.

Saria snorted. “Yeah, but like, male Shil’vati that look like female Shil’vati. Only green. Honestly, I can’t decide whether this is some kind a mascgirl fetish or some kind of political commentary.”

“The game was made before humanity even knew the Shil existed. Any similarities are a coincidence.” Tenir scoffed.

“You didn’t see this complaining when we were killing ‘slimes,’ earlier” Jelara pointed out, dryly.

Saria cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you guys eat Ulnus that have less than three cores?”

A flicker of green shot through Jelara. “…That’s not the point.”

“Lady Flindersnoot asks the village elder in which direction they took the women?” Kalia cut in before Saria could say something likely ill-advised.

“Toward the eastern mountains,” Tenir relayed, her elder’s voice grave, her eyes glinting behind the screen. “To the highest, most treacherous peaks! It’s a three day ride.”

Saria perked up, her tail flicking. “Ask if the village has any Kleffel mounts.”

“The game’s from Earth - they don’t have those,” Kalia snorted. “I can promise you they don’t have Kleffels.”

Saria pouted. “Then what do they have?”

“Horses,” Tenir said after a moment peering behind her screen, her voice matter-of-fact.

“The fuck’s a horse?” Saria asked, though she’d already pulled up her data-pad before anyone could respond – including Mark. “What the fuck is that thing? It’s so dumb looking! How’s it going to fight? It doesn’t even have proper teeth.”

Spinning the pad around, the entire table got a picture of… a horse.

“I quite like it. It’s kind of cute in a gangly way.” Kalia turned to Mark “Humans used to ride these?”

Mark nodded. “Still do, though nowadays they’re more akin to pets, or the horseriding is part of a sport.”

“Awww,” Kalia murmured, her voice soft. “I wonder if I could acquire one and have it brought out to Krenheim. I would like to try riding one.”

Her tone was wistful, her fingers brushing her data-pad.

And all Mark could think was that ‘of course the rich girl turns out to be a horse girl’. Something about the sight of a horse apparently triggered the Y-chromosome of women across the universe.

Assuming that Kalia’s species had chromosomes. And it was the X-Y ones that controlled gender. Truth be told, Mark didn’t know enough about either to comment.

“This one can see the appeal,” Jelara said quietly.

“Don’t we have anything better to ride?” Saria groused. “Something with teeth?”

Well, it was nice to know that horses didn’t have a totally universal appeal.

“Earth has lions. And bears.” Jelara pointed out, her core pulsing with curiosity as she turned to Tenir. “Does the village have any of those to ride?”

Tenir hesitated, flipping through something behind her divider. Fortunately, Mark could save her some time.

Mark snorted, nearly choking on a quiche. “Humans don’t ride lions. Or bears. We generally prefer riding animals that don’t try to eat us.”

“That’s a loser’s attitude,” Saria scoffed as she leaned back.  “Any decent Kleffel rider knows their mount’s racing days are over when it stops trying to maul them.”

Mark rolled his eyes goodnaturedly.

In the end, he didn’t feel it was truly accurate to the intent of the quest when they rode out of the village on a quartet of bears. Nor when the first orc they encountered on the road tried to seduce the party with a seductive dance.

But it was fun all the same…

------------------

“Come on, Tenir, buy this hotel off me - I’ll even cut the price in half!” she pleaded, her voice a mix of growl and whine, her ears flattening against her skull as she shoved the card across the table. “I need the cash to pay Kalia off. Come on, don’t let me go bankrupt!”

Tenir, sat back with a smug grin. She was the undisputed queen of the Monopoly board. Her stack of colorful bills towered high, while her properties ringed the board like the walls of some great plastic fortress.

“No deal, Saria. You should’ve thought twice before stealing Atlantic Avenue from me.” Her voice was prim, her fingers drumming the table.

Across from her, Kalia, her only true rival, glared. All the while, Jelara remained small and silent, lest she draw the ire of either economic juggernaut and find herself in Saria’s place. Though in Mark’s eyes, that was an inevitability.

In many ways, it was a mercy that he’d been knocked out early. It meant he’d been able to avoid being strung along by false hope.

Though that wasn’t to say it hadn’t stung when he’d lost all the same.

Unbidded, his eyes flitted over to an ‘outfit’, just barely peeking out of Tenir’s bug-out bag.

Though to call it an outfit was an insult to fabric everywhere.

The chainmail bikini of Xorn, Warrior Prince barely qualified as clothing. Its metallic links glinted mockingly at him in the light. What had once felt like enticement was now gleaming mockery.

Because the outfit had brought him joy once. When it was first pulled from Tenir’s bag. A little discomfort, yes, but when positioned in his mind’s eye on any body but his own, it had seemed rather enticing.

Jelara, Tenir, Saria or even Kalia.

If he’d won, he’d have been able to enjoy any one of them clad in said outfit, acting as his nubile servant girl.

The temptation was too great. Greater than that posed by the nubile orcs of Lokar Mountain!

And he’d been weak.

So he’d agreed to the bet. Even though he’d known it would be an uphill struggle to win. He’d had hope though.

Monopoly was a human game. Built by humans. For humans.

It would not betray him.

…What a fool he’d been.

The Monopoly board knew no allegiance but cold hard coin. And capitalism knew no master but market force.

He’d been ousted before he could make more than a half-dozen loops, his coin stolen away by the two evil queens of commerce who now dominated the board. What others ‘players’ existed in their game were but beggars attempting to slink by beneath their notice, fated to eventually wither as he had beneath the crushing economic power of Pennsylvania Avenue or Park Place!

Saria slammed her fist, the table rattling. “Fine, take the hotel for a quarter price.”

Tenir’s grin was downright sharklike.

“A fifth.”

-----------------

Mark was now balancing a fresh tray of steaming nachos, the gooey alien cheese dripping over crispy equally alien-grain chips. Still, alien or not, they’d been a hit.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Kalia said, her voice laced with embarrassment, her crimson skin darkening as she avoided his gaze, her horns tilting downward.

It seemed at some point in the heat of battle, Kalia forgot what exactly the prize for winning was.

She was definitely all too aware now though, as Mark – no, Xorn, Warrior Prince – presented her with a fresh feast - his bare chest gleaming under the flickering hangar light, the metallic links clinking softly with every errant movement.

It likely didn’t help that he’d vetoed the top.

A chainmail loincloth, he could live with, but the bikini top was a bit much. Fortunately, no one had complained.

Silly aliens, male chests don’t have secondary sexual characteristics, so why are you staring, he thought with some amusement.

Perhaps he might have been embarrassed under different circumstances, but given he’d slept with three-fourths of the people present – and the final fourth was currently blushing up a storm – he was more amused than anything else.

Tenir’s pouting helped. The poor thing had it all planned out, and she’d been so close to victory until an unlucky roll sealed her fate.

So now it was Kalia who got to be waited on hand and foot for the rest of the evening by Xorn, Warrior Prince – limited run, topless Human edition.

Oh, she was staring as much as the other two, but she was pouting while she did it. The second game of Moonrot for the evening all-but forgotten the moment he’d appeared from the overhead gantry.

“Nonsense, my queen” he said, leaning into his role, his voice solemn. He had no Earthly idea how Xorn sounded, so he was making his best guess. Though he probably could have talked like Elmer Fudd and no one would have complained.

“It was you who defeated me in the ring of combat. And to the victor go the spoils of victory.” He leaned forward, eyebrows shifting suggestively – and he could have sworn he heard Kalia gulp heavily.

Perhaps it was wrong to do this, but it was all in good fun. And if Kalia really was uncomfortable, it was well within her ability to tell him to stop.

That she’d told him he could stop if he wanted to was rather telling. She was enjoying this, despite her protests, her breath quickening as he lingered close.

Besides, fuck Lirath, he thought.

“If she’s not interested, you could come serve me instead,” Saria catcalled.

And for just a moment, Kalia’s features twitched.

In irritation.

Was she… feeling possessive now that she ‘had’ him? He supposed given her experiences with her fiancée, she was likely feeling a little starved for male affection. Even if it was just a joke as part of a bet.

Or, she had an itchy nose and he was reading into things too much?

It didn’t change his response much either way. He rose, injecting disdain into a theatrical sniff.

“This reward is for my Queen and my Queen alone. Lesser women who couldn’t triumph in the arena may consider themselves lucky that my Queen is kind enough to allow them to gaze upon her property.” His voice dripped with mock scorn, his bare chest puffing out as he struck a pose, the chainmail glinting.

“P-property,” Kalia gasped, her flush deepening to something near burgundy, her hands clenching the table’s edge, her eyes locked on him in a mix of shock and delight.

Tenir huffed. Jelara turned deep purple. Saria frowned.

Mark tried not to chuckle. He felt bad for teasing them, but it wasn’t like he wouldn’t make it up to them by fucking each of their brains out at a later date. For the moment, he was letting Kalia enjoy something she clearly hadn’t been able to experience before.

Though if she was fine with showing the others a little attention…

He glanced in her direction, a question clear in his eyes. Kalia caught it, and gaze swept over each of the other women, then back to Mark.

She coughed.

“C-continue serving me and me alone,” she stuttered, her voice firm despite the tremble, her horns tilting upward. “After all, I’m the only woman who owns you.”

Her words spawned immediate outrage and it was all Mark could do not to bellow out laughter.

“As my lady commands,” he said.

Amidst the noise of her compatriots, Tenir’s head hit the table – nearly crushing an unfortunately placed miniature werewolf clown.

“It should have been me! Not her! It’s not fair!” she hissed.