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

neck collar and the white uniform’s V-cut. “Is there anything we can do for you, my king? Anything at all?”

“No, thanks,” I mumbled. I couldn’t escape the feeling the Ice Queen — Sadys — wasn’t sure what to do next. Did she want to hug and kiss me or kick me in the balls for almost getting myself and the Shock Knights killed? You never knew with Sadys.

Standing to the side, Corporal Syx caught my eye. Her red Devilkin skin and mane of black hair always did. She was with the other half of the Shock Knight, gathered in front of the second transport. Syx’s amber eyes flashed gold and her dark red lips pursed in disgust, obviously irritated by Colonel Sadys’ gushing behavior.

Major Akeso stood behind Colonel Sadys, wearing her pink uniform with the short red sleeves.

“Are you injured my king?” Akeso asked with concern.

“Fine,” I grunted and shook my head. My eyes drifted over to the Golden Galleon resting over in the corner of the big landing deck. That was my Golden Ticket home to the Chocolate Factory on Earth where no one wanted me dead.

“I was worried about you,” said First Lieutenant Mira, sauntering over from where she’d parked her Dragonfire on the deck in mech mode beside the other YX-37s. The deck crew swarmed around the mechs, tending to them. Mira’s tight flight suit strained over her equally tight little body.

“Huh?” I said, turning to take her in.

Mira’s full red lips eased into a sexy grin and she winked, “We can’t lose you on your first week here, my king.” There was only the slightest hint of innuendo when she said the word first. For her that was noteworthy. For once, she wasn’t flirting shamelessly. Only respectfully. But she was still flirting because everything she ever said to me had that hint of flirt. She added, “We’re just getting to know you.”

Mutters of eager agreement followed from every guardswoman on deck. Their bright-eyed adulation was what every rockstar would expect from their most loyal groupies after walking off stage.

Trouble was, I wasn’t a rockstar. I wasn’t a king either. I was the acting king, and I was pretty much faking that too.

“Yeah,” I sighed and almost added, but didn’t, that Mira and the others were going to lose me in a non-dying way before the week was over, but I wasn’t ready to open that mammoth can of Purple Worms in front of everyone. I needed to tell the Bombshells first. In private. That was not a conversation I was looking forward to.

At that point, a number of nurses and doctors from Medical came over with hovering gurneys for the Shock Knights who had broken legs or arms or had more serious battle wounds from the Terrorsaur fight.

“Hey,” I said to Mira and flicked a glance at the Golden Galleon. “Does that thing have X-Drive? Can it fold?”

“Your galleon?” Mira asked, following my gaze. “Yes, my king. It does.”

“Can you pilot it?”

“I can,” she smiled proudly.

Colonel Sadys said, “Planning on going somewhere, my king?”

“Eventually,” I said.

“Begging your pardon, my king,” Sadys said. “How eventually, may I ask?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” I lied. After I said goodbye to the Bombshells, I was Audi Five-Thaudi.

“May I ask where, my king?” Sadys said politely.

“Yeah.”

When I didn’t answer, she arched an eyebrow.

“I’ll let you know,” I said vaguely. “I need to get to Medical.” I headed toward the hexagonal cargo elevator.

“My king,” Captain Theia said, “begging your pardon?”

“Yeah?”

Theia said respectfully, “Might I suggest we use the decontamination showers? We’ve been in the jungle without armor for quite some time. We should scrub down before we go inside. For the safety of everyone else.”

I followed Theia’s gaze to the landing deck’s shower facility. In the past four days, I’d used it several times, but had completely forgotten about it now. The Medical team had already gone in to shower off the injured.

“Good point,” I nodded. “Lead the way.”

Theia tipped her head respectfully, “I would be honored to follow you there, my king.” Suddenly she was going all formal on me. Made sense because I’d gone all distant and weird on her.

“Sure, yeah,” I grunted and strode across the deck.

Every woman up there followed me. Well, except the deck crew. They were busy servicing the Dragonfires and tending to the transports. Was it weird having a gigantic entourage of supermodels following my every step? Not as much as it had been four days ago. Honestly, I had gotten used to it.

Was I going to miss it?

Damn right I was.

You might be thinking I was insane to walk away from being King of Harem Planet, to which I’ll say: I can’t miss it if I’m dead.

I realized my glum mood was in desperate need of a pep talk. I pictured a pro sports locker room after the losing team walked off the field, heads hanging, shoulders slumped, faces sweaty and slack with the sadness of defeat. I pictured the head coach telling the team we’d come back with a vengeance and win next season. Then I pictured myself sitting slouched on the benches with the other athletes, raising my hand slowly, and the head coach pointing at me and him saying, “What is it, Pittwell?”

And I’d say, “Um, yeah. What about that giant space dragon that wants to incinerate us tomorrow?”

That would bring anxious mutters from the entire team.

I would add, “Is the dragon gonna be barred from the practice field, kept out of the parking lot or… do we worry about being burned alive by dragon breath while we’re running up and down the field? Because our practice field is outdoors and dragons can fly and have you seen his breath weapon? Like the ass end of a Saturn V rocket taking off.”

That would elicit a cacophony of concerned questions from every player on the team.

The head coach wouldn’t have any answers for them.

Neither would I.

The appropriate pep talk at the appropriate time could work wonders, but sometimes they were so much