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

barking voice. Skok smacked his drooling tongue wetly. “Bites ’em right off so I can hears ’em scream.”

I cringed and cupped my hands over my breakfast bits and pulled my knees protectively up to my chest.

“You pissing yourself?” The gruff voice laughed the question.

Skok said, “He is! He’s pissing hisself, Qrudge! Look!”

“Get it out while you still can, worm,” cackled Qrudge, he of the hateful voice. “Once Skok bites off your stick, you’ll mess yourself like a bleeding woman. Ain’t that right, Mace?”

Mace, the owner of the gruff voice grumbled, “Get out yer hidey hole, you skrucking bitch. Crawl out before I send in Skok to bite your sausage off.”

“I’ll start with his eggs,” Skok growled. “Pop each one, sweet-like. Wiff my fangs.”

That got me moving reluctantly toward their glaring lights. Before I could stand on my own, they yanked me to my feet. I stood naked, surrounded by five men in power armor, three with their helmets off. All held bolt rifles. Not ABR-17’s. Different models but equally deadly. Likely Stygian K177’s, according to what Theia had said earlier.

“Look at him tremble,” laughed Mace, a burly human.

“Like a newborn pup,” snickered Skok, a mutant hyena man. Before Violet had gone missing, she’d told me about Hyenoks. This Skok had to be one. He certainly fit the description.

“He’s got a stick, but he acts like a bitch,” said Qrudge, the man with four arms. He was a Quadron. I had seen several back on Blorgo’s pirate warship when they had boarded the Artemis somewhere between Mars and Jupiter. Qrudge had blue skin, two pairs of beady eyes in front, and two pairs in back, for a total of eight eyes. His facial features seemed humanoid, but leaned toward insectile. He said, “You got tits too, bitch?”

If my rings had been functional, I would’ve said something sarcastic before destroying them in any number of creative ways. Since my ring HUD was dark, I decided it best not to antagonize them.

“Answer me, bitch!” Qrudge growled in my face. “You got tits?!”

“No,” I sniveled, suddenly having flashbacks to being naked and cornered in a high school locker room freshman year while the ruthless jocks mocked me viciously and never got in trouble for it.

“Yeah you do,” Qrudge laughed. He was huge, his four arms big and his shoulders even bigger. He had to be well over 2 meters tall. “Your tits are real nice,” Qrudge sneered. “Let me feel ’em.” He grabbed for my right pec with his two left arms.

I twisted away before he could latch on.

“Ooooh,” Qrudge teased. “You like it rough, huh?” He shoved me hard with all four arms and I stumbled back into Mace, who shoved me toward Skok. “I’ll show you rough, you slim-titted bitch.”

Skok licked his fangs. Up close, his hyena face was scary as hell, his fangs huge. It was like being inches from the maw of a huge hyena with jaws bigger than any pit bull. He was also taller than me and more massive. In the garish lights shining up from the neck of his power armor, he was terrifying.

“Who you supposed to be?” Mace asked. “Some slave or something? That it?”

“Yuh-yeah,” I stammered. “Just a slave.” Hopefully that would convince them to leave me alone. Maybe they’d kill me quickly instead of—

“You ain’t no slave!” Skok barked. “Slaves got no sausages and no eggs!”

“He’s the king,” Qrudge said. “Ain’t that right, boy? You the king? The one we come for? What happened to your rings? Why ain’t you killing us?”

I fisted my hands at my sides hoping that would make my rings less obvious, otherwise they might decide to cut or bite my fingers off to get the rings. Or cut off my hands and take the rings that way, same as I had done to the previous King Sekton Darkstar.

“Show us your hands,” Mace said.

“No,” I growled while thinking, Power up, power up, power the fuck up!

Both my rings remained silent and dormant.

My only option now was fighting my way out of this predicament the old fashioned way.

With my fists and feet.

My mind raced, considering options.

I had few to none.

Honestly, I didn’t have any real fighting experience beyond pretending I was any number of different heroes from the best of Tokusatsu (admit it, you still secretly love the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, Super Sentai, Kamen Rider, or Android Kikaider as much as the next nerd), or pretending I was one of many DC or Marvel Comics superheroes, or gaming heroes. What I wouldn’t do to this crew if I was Guile or Blanka or Ryu or Ken or freaking Dhalsim.

Emphasis on pretending.

But I did understand the basic concept of real fighting. Your goal was to get your opponent to surrender —willingly or unwillingly — or flee. That was accomplished in one of two ways.

1. Break his mind and/or spirit.

2. Break his body.

Either goal might lead to retreat or surrender. In practice, in a given situation, it might be easier for you to attain one of these goals over the other, but it depended entirely on the tools, terrain, weapons, and resources you and your opponent(s) had readily available at the time. Also, in man-to-man direct combat like this — melee, to use the D&D term — it was mammalian instinct to assume your body was the best available weapon, but not everyone had a body well-equipped for fighting. I certainly didn’t, not without my rings (or a functional Power Morpher or Ninja Power Star). But I wasn’t a mere mammal. I had a human brain. I could strategize. There might be a way for me to fight and defeat several better equipped and better prepared opponents. I just had to be creative and clever about what I fought with, how I fought, and what my goals were. Me retreating and escaping successfully into the jungle would be a fantastic outcome. Nothing wrong with beating death, was there?

That couldn’t be too hard, could it?

I was a smart guy.

The only thing I had