A rich, savory aroma drifted through the seams of the dining hall doors, welcoming Dayat and Dola even before they crossed the threshold. There were sharp traces of wild spices, the scent of meat smoked over aromatic wood, and a primal freshness of forest herbs that defied simple description.
The dining hall itself was an architectural masterpiece of cold efficiency and haunting beauty. A long table crafted from the same polished black Obsidian-Glass as the corridors dominated the center of the room. Uniquely, the tableware—plates, utensils, and crystal glasses—seemed to have been molecularly integrated into the furniture since the moment the star-ship transformed into this fortress. Everything was precise, futuristic, yet possessed a tactile familiarity that anchored the human senses.
