Harem Assassins : King Sekton's Harem Planet, Book 2: A Space Opera Harem Adventure by Baron Sord (top inspirational books .txt) 📗

hard blue-black feathers fluttered out, and he squawked so loud it echoed off the nestcave stones and rockspikes. The shrill sound stabbed painfully at the hidden but sensitive eardrums of his brothers and sisters.

“GOOOOOOOOOCK!”

That calmed his siblings enough to avert murder, but they clawed the rocky nestcave floor in agitation, waiting for their chief to explain himself.

“Gu-Gu-Gu-Gu-GOOOOCK!” Crackfang bellowed.

It was time to hunt.

“Skra-a-a-a-a-a-agh!” his oldest surviving brother and clutch-mate Fastclaw protested fearfully. Hunting would get them killed.

“Gorl-or-or-or-or-ORSSS!” Crackfang replied, dipping and bobbing his head in a specific way that signaled hume-ant. His hissing warble meant death. The hume-ant male must die.

“KEEEEEEK!” the entire family screeched their alarm. The hume-ants had already killed too many of their brothers and sisters.

“Gorl-or-or-ORSSS!” Crackfang insisted.

“KEEEEEEEEEEK!” The family screeched again, this time with the elders adding their reluctance.

“Kee, kee, kee, kee!” the hatchlings screeched, frightened and confused. They didn’t understand what Crackfang wanted, but they knew danger when they heard it.

“GOOOORSSSSSS!” Crackfang insisted. Kill the hume-ant male.

His eldest brother Fastclaw did not like this. Although they were clutch-mates, Crackfang was larger and stronger. But Crackfang had led them into danger three moons ago. Then, the hume-ants had killed many brothers and sisters. Crackfang wanted revenge. Fastclaw knew revenge would get their entire family killed. Fastclaw’s anger boiled over and he charged his brother, jaws wide, fangs flashing.

“GROOOOK!” Crackfang bellowed and attacked his clutch-mate relentlessly, flapping his wings enough to put him above his brother. The high angle allowed him to bite Fastclaw’s neck and wrestle him to the rocks.

The two Terrorsaurs thrashed on the rocky nestcave floor, their wings beating, feathers flying, claws slashing, and spiked tails whipping wildly. Neither brother whipped his poisonous tail quills into each other’s bodies. They could if they wanted, but this wasn’t a fight to the death for either of them.

The elders watched, knowing the fight must be fought.

The hatchlings didn’t understand that Crackfang’s authority was being challenged. They only knew fear and squealed their cries, “Kee! Kee! Kee! Kee!”

After two full minutes of terrifying fighting, Crackfang had wrestled Fastclaw onto his back and held his throat in his jaws. He bit down hard until Fastclaw conceded defeat with a plaintive squawk, “SKO-O-O-O-O-OK!”

Crackfang slowly released his clutch-mate, flapping upward and off of his brother to land on a short, stout rockspike. Heavily winded from the fight, Crackfang paused to catch his breath. Great gusts of air puffed and snorted from his snout. He waited alertly to see if his other brothers might charge him. He glared at their angry orange eyes with his own.

His brothers and his older sisters fluffed and puffed their feathers to show they weren’t afraid of Crackfang, but none challenged him.

Satisfied, Crackfang stretched tall and bellowed, “Gu-Gu-Gu-Gu-GOOOOCK!”

It was time to hunt.

After several more bellows and ample flapping around, every hunter in Crackfang’s family followed him skittering through the maze of lava tubes that led out of their nestcave. They exploded into the purple darkness outside and took to the air, staying safely under the purple canopy of the Zalaxian jungle, screeching their blood thirst, their bellies already grumbling in anticipation of food.

“SKRAAAAACK!” Crackfang screamed for his own benefit, venting his pent-up frustration. Every cell in his Terrorsaur body told him to kill the hume-ant male now. But the neurons in his brain told him preparing for war took time.

To wage war against the hume-ants and win, Crackfang would need help from his cousintribes.

Not just one cousintribe.

Every cousintribe.

—: Chapter 93 :—

That night, somebody else tried to assassinate me.

No surprise there.

Once again, I never saw the attack coming.

That was backstabbers for you.

The big surprise was how much it would shake me up. The attack would be so harsh, so swift, so unexpected and intense, that it would make me seriously question whether or not I should just up and leave Zalaxia and go back to Earth to live out the rest of my life as a robotics engineer. The attack would erase any doubt that remaining here would inevitably get me killed. It would crush my slowly-fading delusion that being King of Harem Planet was anything other than the deadliest occupation in the universe, and it would only be a matter of time before I died an untimely death at the hands of some intergalactic assassin or their henchmen.

But hey, for once, my final assassin wouldn’t be a space pirate.

How nice of them.

It would be the craziest, strangest, and deadliest assassin I could imagine.

Good thing I went outside the outpost that afternoon to extract some mass from the edge of the red dirt clearing surrounding the complex. My rings needed fuel badly. I only charged them up to half because it required an incredible amount of dirt mass to get the ring’s dual fuel doughnut from 7 o’clock on the dial back up to 12 o’clock.

In total, I extracted a 60 x 60 meter square ditch that was one meter deep. That was 3,600 cubic meters worth of dirt weighing in at 5,000,000 kilograms, give or take.

For now, I could use the red dirt clearing as an emergency source of ring fuel, but I could only excavate so many ditches that big before I started compromising soil integrity around the perimeter walls, and affecting drainage patterns around the outpost as a whole. That was a problem due to the amount of rain this area of the jungle got regularly — lots.

Eventually, I would have to find a better location farther afield. Make my own Ring Fuel Rock Quarry.

For now, that would have to wait.

The unfortunate series of events that led to the assassination attempt on me started when I asked Hydra if she’d seen any jungle women in the vicinity of the outpost recently, women other than Lieutenant Dyna’s spy. I didn’t mean Corporal Syx. I meant the actual woman caught on video snooping around the MRS the other night. By the way, nobody had identified that woman yet. I refused to believe the rumors circulating that that woman was Corporal Syx. Whoever she was, her