| Subject: MASQUERADE (SLASH, NC-17) |
Author:
Cherubino
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Date Posted: 18:12:53 08/27/02 Tue
Author’s note:
The scenario that TPTB of this venture pulled out of the now-infamous bag was “Alien Mind Control!” I am not going to reveal the pairing, you’ll have to read and see.
Many thanks to my wonderful Beta-readers, McJude and Agrimpasa. Without their help this story would have never happened.
I am forever grateful to Andromeda Valentine for her help and the powers of persuasion.
Disclaimer:
This story is written for fun and fan enjoyment, no copyright infringement intended. The characters belong to Tribune Entertainment (I only wish Tribune would know what to do with them…)
Rating:
NC-17 for explicit m/m sex. If that is offensive to you, please hit your browser’s “Back” button now.
Archiving:
Please ask first and consult with the administrators of this affair.
MASQUERADE
**********************************
"A costume ball? Dylan, are you absolutely sure it is a good idea?" Rommie walked alongside Dylan as they entered the Obs Deck. The rest of the crew was waiting, alerted by Andromeda to gather for Captain's announcement.
"Trust me, Rommie," Dylan smiled almost dreamily, "there is nothing better then a costume ball. Especially on Halloween."
Beka, Tyr and Harper looked at Dylan expectantly. He remained silent for a few moments and finally Harper lost his patience, "What's going on, Boss?"
"When I see our good Captain wearing *that* smile I begin to worry, it usually means trouble." Tyr whispered to Beka.
She patted his arm, "Relax, oh stoic one, we are at peace -- at least for the moment -- and as far as I know he is not planning any new crusades." Tyr snorted his disagreement but refrained from saying anything else.
Dylan waited until the small commotion quieted down. "Alright, people, I have some good news. We've had a tough year, we all worked very hard and I thought since we are at peace at the moment we should celebrate. The Halloween is almost here and I invited our friends and allies to join us at the costume ball here on Andromeda. The event will take place a week hence." He paused and looked at his crew, expecting a happy reaction but instead was met by dead silence.
After a few tense moments Harper was the first to speak, "No disrespect, Boss, but … Are you nuts?!! You actually want to celebrate "the time which is no time"? Like we haven't had enough evil things happening to us lately? No! No, no, no!"
"Calm down, boy!" Tyr's hand clamped Harper's mouth shut. The Nietzschean glared at the Captain, "Halloween? I personally do not share Boy's superstitions, but honestly, Sir, do you think such juvenile entertainment is appropriate? You, after all, had invited heads of states and royal figures to attend, certainly something more … dignifying could be arranged, could it not?" He cocked his head questioningly at Dylan, still effortlessly keeping a struggling Harper under his arm.
Before Dylan could say anything Beka piped in, "What's the matter, Anasazi, worried about finding a costume? I could suggest a few options…"
"And what would they be, Captain Valentine?" Tyr turned to Beka, clearly challenging her.
Beka was yet to back out of any challenge, so she put her hands on her hips and looked at Tyr appraisingly. "I think one costume you were born into, Anasazi. You'll make an excellent cave man; after all you already have gotten your chest-thumping and growling thing down almost to an art form."
Tyr dropped Harper who landed on the cold floor in a heap and covered the distance between him and Beka in one stride. Grabbing her by the waist and pressing her body close to his, he whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, "And would you consider being my cave woman? You are the only one who can awaken a Neanderthal in me, Beka!"
“Oh, yeah? So, Tarzan, is your club bigger then Dylan’s forcelance?” Beka brought one leg up and moved it over Tyr’s hip, pulling him so close that the leather of their pants seemed to fuse. The low growl of the obviously aroused Nietzschean reverberated through the Obs Deck.
Rommie gave Dylan a pointed look saying, "This is what I was afraid of! And that's only the beginning!"
"Don't worry, Rommie, it is all in good fun. Let's go, we have a party to plan!" Dylan dismissed the avatar's concern. "Trance, we could use your help." The Captain called out to the golden alien who remained strangely quiet throughout the whole thing.
"Of course, Dylan." Trance answered and followed Dylan and Rommie out of the Obs Deck, looking preoccupied.
* * *
"I told you it would be fun, Trance Virgo! See, Gemini is here, just like Cousin Flux told us! Funny though how they call her by her family name. Why wouldn't she correct them?" Small alien with iridescent blue skin and curly silver hair tickled his companion's shimmery-pink pointy ear with the tip of his tail. She looked at the viewscreen of their small vessel that currently showed Andromeda's Obs Deck, clearly upset with the events she observed there. She liked Andromeda and didn't think that playing with her crew was right. Especially since Gemini was there. She missed her big sister and didn't want to interfere with her work.
"Trance Aquarius, I think we should return home. We are in trouble as it is and I don't want to mess up any more then we already have!" The pink pixie pouted and looked at her blue brother, tagging at the golden lock of hair that escaped from one of her pigtails.
"Ok, ok, Virgo, we'll turn around now. I just have to turn this thing off… Oh-oh!" The blue boy said suddenly and looked sheepishly at his sister. "I think I just broke it…"
"Aquarius, what have you done? Do you even know what this thing does?" Virgo was on the verge of tears.
"No, not really. I heard Mom and Dad say that it did change the fate of Puritania."
"Changed how? C'mon, think, Ari, think!" Virgo stomped her foot impatiently.
"I am not sure… I remember that Mom said that the Puritanians were so -- inbibited? Indibited? That they forbade any activity that led to procreation and the population of the planet was on the brink of extinction. And this thing fixed it. It can't be bad, can it?" He looked expectantly at his sister, but she just slumped in her seat and covered her face with her hands.
* * *
"We really must thank Gemini for her present, this game is most entertaining. Remind me…" The sentence remained unfinished and the smooth white Go pebble dropped from sapphire-skinned hand at the sound of a voice that carried extreme urgency, "Trance Leo! Trance Libra! I am sorry for interrupting your game but something terrible has happened!"
"What is it, Flux? What could be so urgent that you have intruded on our private time?" The irritated voice belonged to tall bronze-colored female alien. She stood up and adjusted her auburn hair around golden horns. Her tail flicked, illustrating her extreme annoyance.
"Calm down, Libra." The dark-blue male spoke, trying to placate his companion. He picked up the pebble and placed it back on board. "I am sure Cousin Flux would not have disturbed us unless it was absolutely necessary. What happened?"
"Trance Aquarius and Trance Virgo are missing. I think I may be at fault here, because I mentioned seeing Gemini and her association with that starship Andromeda. They may have gone looking for her. And the worst part is, they took your ship. The one you equipped with the Alternator before your trip to Puritania." Flux cringed in anticipation of an angry outburst but the two adult Trances looked at each other and started laughing.
"Come, Flux," said Trance Leo, getting up and placing his arm around young man's shoulder, "let me tell you about the Alternator and why we shouldn't worry about our little adventurers."
"Leo," his companion called out when she regained her composure, "should we go look for them now?"
"No, darling, let them play. I am sure Gemini will figure it out and send them on the way soon." She nodded her agreement and watched the two males walk away. Flux was snickering and her partner was laughing again. 'Children', she thought, 'what a joy!'
* * *
“Is everything in place, Rommie?” Dylan asked, flicking an invisible speck of something from his lacy cuff, a perfect replica of intricate frothy creation of ancient Provance craftsmen.
For tonight’s event Captain Hunt had chosen a costume of D’Artagnan, a noble hero and a musketeer. He had always liked the guy, was good with a rapier and he honestly thought that the blue tunic adorned with Bourbon lilies and a plumed hat looked good on him. Sometimes, very rarely, he allowed himself to be just a teeny bit vain.
“Yes, Dylan, everything is ready.” Rommie answered through gritted teeth.
Rommie, Andromeda Ascendant and Holo-Rommie were peeved with all that took place in the past week. They were a warship, not a carnival boat! Yet it seemed that everyone else had accepted Dylan’s crazy idea.
Harper, who initially was almost paralyzed with fear of invoking some evil spirits, was walking around in one of his coveralls with all sorts of gadgets and gizmos hanging from his tool belt and on his back, calling himself a “Ghostbuster”. Nobody really knew what he meant and nobody cared as long as he had stopped throwing fits of hysterics.
Trance did her part in helping in the arrangements but was a little reserved about the whole affair. Nobody paid much attention to her in that respect, they were still adjusting to the golden version of their purple friend and as long as she didn’t predict doom and peril the Andromeda’s crew was content. She didn’t pick an outfit for the ball but her own looks were so exotic that she didn’t look out of place.
Even Tyr – yes, Tyr -- was wearing a costume. He didn’t agree to don a loincloth and carry a club to be a caveman, but settled for Attila the Hun, whose costume was not very different from Anasazi’s usual attire. Beka decided to be an Amazon and between Andromeda’s First and Weapons Officers the amount of bare skin, leather and feathers was quite impressive.
Dylan adjusted his hat and offered Rommie his arm. The avatar, who had the dubious -- in her opinion -- honor of being his ‘date’ for the evening was dressed as Constance. She took the proffered appendage, picked up the skirts of her crinolined dress and, plastering big and phony smile on her face, followed the captain to the brightly decorated Obs Deck to greet the arriving guests.
* * *
Several hours later the festivities were well on the way. The guests seemed to enjoy the entertainment and Dylan was quite happy. Tyr was dancing and flirting (!) with Beka, and Harper was pawed (literally) by three very colorful Makra females. Rommie, however, felt strange. No one seemed to be behaving like themselves. When she caught two Perseids making out in the corner she almost blew her top.
She marched over to Dylan to talk to him about it and had to extricate him from the Inari ambassador and his wife who were both trying to grab a feel of her Captain. To her surprise, instead of expressing his gratitude for saving him from total embarrassment Hunt looked quite annoyed.
“What is it, Rommie? What was so urgent that you had to so rudely interrupt our conversation?”
The avatar hesitated, stunned by his reaction and at this moment the arrival of Archduke and Duchess Bolivar was announced.
“Let’s go greet our guests of honor and please, try to look happy?” The last tirade was delivered through his teeth while his face was all smiles.
The throng of people and aliens parted, giving way to the Archduke and his entourage. Dylan saw that Bolivar was dressed as Chevalier de Rochefort, purple satin, cream lace, jewel-encrusted rapier, all the smallest details including the fake scar on his face. Elssbett came as Milady. ‘This suites her’ Dylan thought, welcoming the ruling couple of Sabra-Jaguar Prides to his ball.
“Ah, Captain, I see that we read the same books!” Bolivar brushed his hand along Dylan’s arm. Dylan was surprised at the strange tingle he felt where Archduke’s fingers had touched him.
“True, your Highness, but I see that we are admirers of different heroes.” Hunt fought to keep his face straight while Bolivar continued lightly touching him.
“What can I say, I like that old rat Richelieu, he was quite Nietzschean in his ideas. However, I couldn’t dress like a monk, goes against my principles. So I chose this fellow, his taste in clothes appeals to me.” Bolivar continued touching Dylan, all seemingly innocent gestures, a tag on a lacy collar, a flick of a finger at the plume on the hat, a brush along the strand of hair, and every time he managed to leave that strange tingling sensation.
To stop this tactile assault Dylan turned to Elssbett. The dark beauty looked absolutely stunning in 17th Century attire and the memories of their night together flooded his mind as he bowed with a flourish and kissed her hand. Her bone blades made strange impression being surrounded by lace and gold filigree, but that little detail didn’t distract Dylan. He became very aroused. Rommie noticed that and stared at him in utter surprise, she knew him to have much better control over his desires.
Unfortunately Nietzschean senses are almost as strong as Andromeda’s sensors and Bolivar had noticed Dylan’s state almost as quickly as Rommie. He emitted a low growl and turned to Hunt, his expression grave. “Captain Hunt, I suggest that you keep your fascination with my wife to yourself. I was willing to let that one incident go, but you are overstepping the boundaries now.”
“One incident indeed!” Dylan laughed theatrically and leaned closer to Elssbett, “Did you not tell your husband how well I compensated you for his … deficiencies? On the battlefield and ..?” Elssbett remained silent and Rommie was in total shock. She felt like her circuits are going to blow.
“Captain Hunt,” Archduke assumed his royal stance once again, “you have insulted me and I demand satisfaction!” With that he threw one of his dark purple gloves in Dylan’s face.
“Very well, your Highness. Care to name your seconds?” Hunt accepted the duel as if it was an everyday occurrence. Not even an attempt to resolve the matter diplomatically.
“No seconds. You and me in private, I am not planning to be tonight’s entertainment.” Bolivar noticed that their encounter started to draw attention of other guests.
“Meet me in ten minutes in Hydroponics Bay; I believe you know the way, Archduke?” Dylan turned to leave but at the last moment stopped, “And since you issued the challenge, I choose the weapons. My choice is rapier.” He tipped his hat at Elssbett and walked away. Rommie was still clinging to his arm looking like she was going to faint any second now.
* * *
“Wake up! Ari, something is wrong, please wake up! Look, this thing was green all the time and now it is turning red! And it’s beeping and the lights are blinking!” Trance Virgo was so nervous she turned from pink to almost white. She shook her brother awake and he looked confused and blurry-eyed, trying to comprehend what she was talking about.
The indicator on the device indeed turned red and the little arrow was moving into the area marked “Extreme levels of activity”. After almost a week of trying and worrying his blue and silver head Aquarius still couldn’t turn the thing off, but at least it was in the green and he knew that was a good sign. Now he was scared. Really scared.
“Virgo, please don’t cry, just don’t cry, we’ll think of something.” He tried to convince himself as much as his sister.
* * *
‘I can see why Elssbett wanted him.’ Charlemagne Bolivar thought as he looked at his opponent with appreciation. Sure he was furious with the captain, but the site of Hunt in tight britches of gray suede, tall boots and stark-white billowy shirt with lace collar and cuffs was … enticing. Alluring. Sexy. Archduke had always appreciated beauty, in things and in people. When he observed Dylan flexing his rapier and taking practice lunges he felt distinct stirring in his loins. 'I wonder if he is as good in bed as Elssbett says he is…'
Dylan looked down at the smaller Nietzschean. 'I can see why Elssbett wanted him,' he thought. Bolivar was lean and muscular, lacking the brawn usual to his species, but compensating that with an easy grace and fluidity of motion. Hunt felt his groin come to life. 'I wonder if he is as good in bed as Elssbett says he is…'
"What are your conditions, your Highness?"
"As much as I'd like to kill you and take over your ship, I realize it is not going to happen, so I suggest a fight to a first blood." Charlemagne's voice stopped Dylan's musings and brought him back to reality.
"Very well, your Highness. On guard!" Dylan saluted Bolivar with is rapier. After returning the salute the Nietzschean attacked immediately.
* * *
Dylan had engaged privacy mode so they wouldn't be disturbed. Archduke insisted on it and, despite Rommie's concerns, Hunt agreed.
Rommie paced before the locked Hydroponics doors. No one except her was witness to the encounter and the challenge that ensued, Dylan forbade her to tell anyone and all she could do now was worry. 'If I could bite my nails I would' she thought ruefully, gripping the lacy handkerchief in her hand with all her android might, almost fusing the molecules of the fabric.
* * *
It turned out that our duelists were evenly matched. Dylan's advantage was in his size and admirable skill, which Charlemagne compensated for with his enhanced reflexes and speed. Their swords clinked and clunked; lunges and parries blurred in a swirl of motion.
The high temperature and humidity of the Hydroponics Garden weren’t new to Dylan, he played basketball here almost every day, but he did that in tank-top and shorts. Fighting in this tropical heat fully dressed was strenuous for him and even for his genetically enhanced opponent. Dylan was the first to rip off his tunic, Charlemagne's doublet soon followed.
Dylan's white shirt was almost completely soaked with sweat and Bolivar could see dark nipples through the now-translucent material. He suddenly had an unexplainable urge to bite and suck them. Lunging far forward and barely avoiding Dylan's sword Charlemagne caught the lacing at the collar on captain's shirt with the sharp point of his rapier and cut through it. The shirt fell open all the way to his waist and the Nietzschean could see the fine sheen of moisture covering broad expanse of muscles. He smelled human's excitement and something else, ah, yes -- arousal. Hunt was definitely aroused.
Dylan parried Bolivar's attack and was surprised that when he left himself open for a second his opponent didn't go for a kill -- so to speak. He opted to cut his shirt open instead. A look downwards allowed Dylan a clear view of Charlemagne's erection, his tight silk britches doing nothing to conceal it.
Hunt continued the onslaught after the parry -- lunge, repose, lunge, forward, until he had Bolivar cornered. Dylan enjoyed his superiority in this dangerous game and continued playing his opponent, making him frustrated. Finally Charlemagne made the one mistake Dylan was anticipating, and with a flickering of his sword lacerating Bolivar's left arm, he immediately took the advantage. The rapier’s sharp point drew a crimson line on the cream silk of the shirt, glancing over the double-helix.
Dylan immediately stepped back and raised his sword. “I believe you have lost, your Highness,” he said with a bow and a salute.
Bolivar dangled his weapon on one finger and dropped it on the floor, moving towards Dylan slowly, sly smile playing on his lips. “You see, Captain, I think that little setback will not prevent me from getting the satisfaction I seek.”
Dylan’s eyes gleamed, “And how do you plan to accomplish that?” He moved as if to sidestep the Nietzschean, and the two circled each other, getting a little bit closer with every step.
“That’s how!” Charlemagne exclaimed, covering the short distance between them in one stride. He grabbed Dylan’s head and pulled him down for a hard, mouth-bruising kiss.
* * *
“Rommie! Rommie!” The avatar heard Trance’s frantic calls and braced herself for more bad news.
“Rommie, I need to take one of your slipfighters for a couple of hours.” The golden one looked worried.
‘Now what?’ Rommie thought and threw her hands in the air. “Trance, why now, can’t it wait?”
“No, Rommie, please, trust me, I will take care of everything, all will be back to normal, but I have to go NOW!” Trance stomped her foot, just like her former purple self would have done.
Andromeda appeared on the view screen and folded her virtual arms on her chest, “Whatever could go wrong here already has, so Trance, go and please hurry!”
As Trance walked away Holo-Rommie shimmered into view next to the android, “I must say that if I was into things like that I could make a fortune selling the video records of the events that take place on Obs Deck right now.” She cocked her head, “Hmm, I didn’t know Beka’s hair changes colors when she has an orgasm… Blonde, blue, pink, red – pretty! And Tyr howls! Ohh, I will definitely keep this recording. ”
Rommie blanched, picked up her skirts and inwardly cursing Dylan and his idiotic ideas ran to the Obs Deck.
* * *
Dylan pulled away from the kiss testing blood on his lips. He smiled, “If this is what you wanted to begin with, your Highness, all you had to do was ask!” He bent down and bit Charlemagne’s neck, eliciting a growl from the Nietzschean. The Archduke ripped Dylan's already torn shirt off and latched on one of the nipples, tweaking another with his thumb and forefinger. Dylan threw his head back, swallowing hard, corded neck rippling. He moaned and Bolivar increased pressure, both with his teeth and his fingers.
Finally letting go of Dylan’s nipples, he moved down his chest, licking and nipping the hard muscle, learning the taste of human’s skin, enjoying the feel of silky hair, listening to the beat of his heart. He continued moving down until he reached his goal. Dropping to his knees Charlemagne opened the codpiece of Dylan’s tight britches.
Hunt struggled hard to remain standing. He had never experienced anything remotely similar to what Bolivar was doing to him now. Surely he has had oral sex before, with women and men, but this was completely different. Not only Charlemagne was extremely skillful, but in addition to that his tongue was slightly abrasive and that, combined with the wetness and heat of his mouth, was driving Dylan insane.
Soon Hunt felt the release approaching and, grabbing the last modicum of control, pulled the Nietzschean up and kissed him long and hard. When he finally stopped this onslaught on his ever-so-willing mouth he spoke huskily, “No, your Highness, this is not the way I want it.”
The Captain grabbed Bolivar’s shirt with his teeth and ripped it off, the fabric tearing loudly, leaving Charlemagne smooth pale chest open. Dylan pushed him down on the floor and started his own explorations. He bit and licked, nipped and kissed, pinched and caressed the Nietzschean to the point of almost madness, yet still avoiding the ultimate goal of his quest.
Finally Charlemagne growled threateningly and ground his hips against Dylan’s. Dylan laughed, “Well, why didn’t you say so earlier? Your wish is my command, your Highness!” With that he swiftly pulled Bolivar’s pants down and turned him over. Parting the white cheeks he found the tight entrance and inserted one finger into the passage.
Bolivar groaned, “Captain, I surely am a superior being but I still require lubrication!” Dylan’s lust-fogged mind was still capable of some functioning. Looking around he spotted the solution to their problem. Not withdrawing, he grabbed his discarded rapier with the free hand and swashed at the aloe plant that happened to be near them. A few pieces flew too far, but finally he was able to slice one meaty leaf and catch it with the tip of the sword. Grabbing it, he squeezed the gelatinous substance on his hand and generously coated his fingers and his penis. After a few moments of hasty preparation, he finally entered the Nietzschean in one swift motion.
Soon he found the rhythm. Charlemagne’s reaction had told him that humans and Nietzscheans alike have the same sweet spot and he made the Archduke howl with pleasure. Hunt kept one hand firmly on Bolivar’s slim hip, the other he wrapped around his partner’s erection, stroking and pumping him in sync with his movements. Soon they reached the crescendo and came together with a lot of noise, both thinking the same thing, ‘Elssbett was right, he is spectacular in bed… or wherever you can get him…’
They fell together in a heap, arms and legs tangled, flushed and sweaty from exhaustion. They kissed again, leisurely and even gentle this time. Dylan leaned back on one of the large plan pots and looked smugly at Bolivar. “Has your Highness been satisfied?”
Bolivar looked at him and smiled slyly, “I must say that I have, but…”
“But what?” Hunt cocked his head, unwilling to move just yet. He started to stretch languidly and suddenly Bolivar grabbed him and a split second later Dylan found himself laying flat on his stomach, being held down firmly by Charlemagne. He felt his pants slide down his hips.
“But I still like to be on top!” Bolivar whispered hotly into the Captain’s ear, caressing his now-exposed ass. He trailed one finger down the crack, then removed it and Dylan felt something cool and slippery being spread on him. One finger slid in, then two, he was being stretched, prepared and from what he saw he realized he would need a lot of preparation. The agile fingers found his spot and he reared back, trying to get more, deeper, but Charlemagne withdrew the teasing digits.
He heard and felt Bolivar move closer again, kneeling behind him, caressing the muscles of his back, relaxing Dylan into almost sleepy trance. Stopping suddenly and slapping his ass the Nietzschean said, “I would like you to get on your hands and knees, Captain.” Dylan hesitated and got his bum slapped again and still he laid unmoved, waiting for what was to come, knowing and wanting it. The next slap was still playful, but every one that followed increased in strength, leaving hot stinging marks on Dylan’s sensitized ass.
Bolivar was getting quite worked up and let Dylan really feel the strength of his wrist, barking, “Now, Dylan, not next millennium!” Hunt obeyed this time and Charlemagne entered him, just like he did before, in one quick movement, and rode him hard and fast, stroking him off at the same time and Dylan loved every moment of it. They climaxed together again and this time Dylan saw stars.
Sometime later they managed to untangle themselves and Bolivar whispered hotly, “Now I am completely satisfied, Captain!”
They sat together, leaning on the same plant pot, unable and unwilling to move. With an effort Dylan managed to wipe himself off and refasten his pants, Bolivar did the same and slumped back, yawning. “I think I need a nap.”
“I think I do too,” Dylan answered with a yawn of his own and closed his eyes.
* * *
“Look what you have done, Trance Aquarius! All these people have gone mad! They jump on each other, fight, roll on the ground! Look there, this woman is trying to bite off this man’s thing! You and your stupid ideas, now they are all crazy! I am afraid to go home now!” The pink alien plopped down on her seat and started crying. Her blue brother tried to calm her down but to no avail.
Suddenly they heard a loud ‘Bump!’ and the ship shook slightly. Moments later the door to the cabin hissed open and the siblings saw their very golden and very angry big sister.
“Gemini! We are so happy to see you!” They exclaimed in unison.
Trance took a good look around and understood everything. “Trance Aquarius! You really did it this time! And you managed to drag your little sister along with you!” She sounded so severe that both pixies started crying.
Trance’s features softened, “Alright, alright peanuts, let’s calm down and see how we can fix things and send you home.”
* * *
Tyr and Beka were first to wake up. Last night they have gone through almost all positions of Kama Sutra, the ancient writing that Tyr bragged he knew by heart and volunteered to demonstrate to Beka. The only ones they didn’t try required hanging upside down and only because Beka refused to go to the gym. The exhaustion finally took over when they moved from the most complex to the simpler ones, and they fell asleep in the old-favorite Sixty Nine, with Tyr’s head nestled comfortably between Beka’s thighs and her hand never relinquishing its hold on his penis.
They took in the scene and the position they were sleeping in and jumped away from each other. Mumbling and stumbling they went to their respective quarters to shower, change and preferably forget that the events of the last night ever took place. However they were not allowed to hide and wallow in their misery since Rommie summoned them to help her look for Dylan and Charlemagne Bolivar.
The avatar had been so busy all night trying to keep the guests calm and decent that she forgot all about the duel. Her sensors registered that both duelists were alive after the fight stopped, but since the privacy protocol was still engaged blocking her further evaluation, she concentrated on other things instead. Now she was worried, so she took Tyr, Beka and the furious Duchess Elssbett, who flatly refused to wait in her quarters, to the Hydroponics Garden.
The fact that the garden was still under privacy mode did not stop Tyr from helping her force the doors open. Tyr took one step in and his nostrils flared. Elssbett had the same reaction, and Rommie checked her sensor data and immediately understood why.
* * *
Dylan and Charlemagne opened their eyes and saw the faces of Elssbett and Andromeda’s crew staring at them in total disbelief. Dylan thanked whatever higher powers there are that he had a presence of mind to straighten his clothes before collapsing.
Sooner than anyone could say anything, Bolivar grabbed his shirt and doublet and slithered away, deftly avoiding his wife. Before he exited the room he turned to Dylan, “I believe that this would be the ‘One for all’ moment, ‘All for one’ already happened last night. Adieu!” And he disappeared, waving his hand playfully.
* * *
Several days have passed and the last of the guests finally left, all of them actually quite happy. The mess was cleaned up, Rommie was speaking to Dylan again, Beka stopped jumping and blushing every time she passed Tyr by and Dylan was again able to sit down without wincing and cringing. Things were getting back to normal, whatever normal on Andromeda was.
Hunt was sitting in his office contemplating the strange events that took place during the masquerade. They still couldn’t find the explanation for what had happened. What’s more, Rommie had a distinct recollection of Trance taking a slipfighter and disappearing for several hours during the ball, but her sensors and data logs had no such information. She remembered that everything started returning back to normal after Trance came back, but again she had no data in her systems supporting this theory.
Dylan was deep in thought, pondering the mysteries of the Halloween night when Tyr’s voice brought him out of his reverie. “I hear rumors that your prowess with the force lance was recently surpassed by your skill in fencing. Would you care for a practice round, Captain?”
Dylan looked up and saw his resident Uber standing in the doorway, smirking, and holding up two rapiers and an aloe leaf. He groaned and dropped his head on the table with a loud thud.
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