She had spilled something and he cleaned it with a cloth. Now dripping with cow blood. With it he walked past a security guard who was seated behind a low desk, checking partygoers for the right bracelet before entering the other hal.
On smelling the cow blood the alien security guard lost it and his fangs emerged 'cause on his dead planet the spilling of blood meant commencing the battle.
His proposed victim decided to run to return later with a rifle designed for the purpose. Capsules with white powder that, once fired, hit the target as flat round metal disks. It was mounted on an orange iron exoskeleton. With practicing one disk stayed stuck high on a wall.
The dancehal could hold at least a thousand people and the organisation was happy thirty people were there!
He stepped backward, into his temporary armor and did what he had to do. Afterwards he sat on his knees next to the throne from where the king sat waving at his subjects.
