"Please, O Great Blood Goddess!" The President of the Jakarthar Federation dove to Arastia's feet. "Don't accept the War Contract! Don't go to the Solar System! Stay here!"
He stuck his butt in the air as he pressed his balding head into her feet, throwing away all dignity. His prostration didn't match his status, nor his extravagant custom-tailored attire fashioned from esoteric fabric.
Arastia immediately recoiled, stepping several steps away with an expression of disgust at the sorry excuse of the head of state. "Stop that! Don't touch me with your head!"
"No, I will! I won't stop unless you promise not to leave this planet!" The head of state increasingly resembled a madman drowning in his terror and desperation.
