Their mutual outrage preceded them. As soon as the door opened and the sound-absorbent bubble that enclosed her office was violated, she was able to hear their sputtering and hissing. It sounded like someone had dumped a vit player in the middle of a barrel of snakes and was rolling the result in her direction.
Then they were inside, their special suits hanging rumpled around them, the dehumidifying masks that covered their snouts making them look as if they had just stepped off an asteroid instead of the front porch. Slitted pupils glared at her from behind wraparound protective lenses designed to keep ambient moisture out of eyes that were used to excessive dryness. She glanced briefly at the custom varzea garb and the heavily laden service belts they wore beneath the protective outer suits. The heat from the multiple layers of attire wouldn’t bother them. AAnn thrived in the heat. It was the humidity they couldn’t handle. Despite their specialized outfits they must be moderately uncomfortable, she decided.
Good.
One of the peaceforcers escorting the visibly aggravated pair eyed her questioningly. She waved him off. Her visitors would already have been scanned for weapons. Though shorter than the average human, they were powerfully built, and the claws on their hands and sandaled feet constituted weaponry that could not be checked at the door, as did their muscular tails. She was not overly concerned. If they went berserk and attacked her, she was not entirely defenseless herself. Furthermore, they must know that any hostile action would be observed and recorded and that they would suffer any attendant consequences.