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

Vok Nyfe was not scared.

In response to Hade’s threat, the top of Nyfe’s mechano-skeletal skull erupted with a roaring blue plasma geyser that blew back the black hood of his cloak and gave him the appearance of having vertical blowtorch hair. The same blue plasma fire burned from the thin slit eyes cut into his menacing, skeletal visor.

Nyfe spread both of his slender mechanical arms wide, opening his black cloth cloak and revealing a metal skeleton underneath. His metal ribs detached from his metal sternum, and the tips of each rib lit with blue plasma and pointed a dozen flaring bolt barrels at Hade. Nyfe’s staff transformed into a barbed forking design that crackled powerfully with enough electric current to send a narrow-beam EMP spiking into Hade’s cybernetic brain, if Nyfe so chose.

Hade scowled approvingly, waiting to see if Nyfe dared unleash the EMP. Violence was the only currency in the universe Hade valued, and Nyfe had it to spare.

“Well?” Hade challenged.

Unfazed, Vok Nyfe lowered his menacing head a mere millimeter, a killing glare if there ever was one. Nyfe wasn’t afraid of Hade and never would be. Nyfe didn’t voice a reply, but a pattern of tiny lights located where his skeletal teeth would have been cycled through a series of abstract snarling expressions.

“Lower your weapons, Nyfe,” Hade snorted, shifting uneasily from hoof to hoof. “Your religious ways don’t scare me.”

Both cybernoids knew Hade was scared, but hiding it.

That was why Nyfe powered his weaponry down. The plasma geyser blowtorching from Nyfe’s skull died down too. His ribs retracted and he lowered his arms until his black cloak closed over his metal-skeletal form. Lastly, his staff stopped crackling and resumed its sedate and random transformations.

“It isn’t religion,” Nyfe said quietly, his buzzing voice distorted, grating, and robotic. “It is the science of technomancy.”

“So you say,” Hade chortled.

“As do others.”

“To everyone else in this universe, Nyfe, it’s religion.”

Vok Nyfe didn’t respond, nor did he suffer fools.

“Now that we’ve seen how easily your mass amplifier can be defeated,” Hade smirked with superior relish, “you need to come up with a better way to soften the target before we send in our troops for the final assault on the power station base.”

“A new solution is being prepared,” Nyfe said cryptically.

“What is it?”

“It awaits you on Pandemon.”

“My home world?” Hade snorted, “What could you have secured on my home world that I couldn’t?”

“You will have to see for yourself.”

“It better not be another of your technomantic gadgets. We need something that works. If it doesn’t, Crewd will have both our backups.”

“Perhaps yours,” Vok Nyfe said with superior confidence, implying he wasn’t in any danger from the likes of Baron Crewd von Bludlust.

Hade’s counter-argument was an evasive digital snort. He would never admit to anyone how unnerving the mysterious Vok Nyfe could be. “What of your assassin, Nyfe?”

“The Devilkin.”

“Yes, her. Our spy. Does she have direct access to that pathetic pretender the acting king?”

“She soon will.”

“Good. Pray your lowly two-Zalat Devilkin whore can manage what a fortune in wasted Zalats and your worthless technomantic mass exchanger could not.”

“Praying is not necessary,” Vok Nyfe said with slicingly icy and electronically distorted disgust.

—: Chapter 27 :—

That night, after a formal introduction from Colonel Sadys, I presided over the funeral for the ten dead guardswomen. It was a somber scene. The caskets were arranged on the landing deck under the stars, and draped with the hexagonal Royal Flag of Zalaxia.

While standing behind a podium, I stumbled through a speech for the benefit of half the outpost. The woman wore their dress uniforms and stood in formation at attention.

According to Major Akeso, who I spoke with before the ceremony, DNA identification had been used to assemble body parts for each guardswoman. Not every coffin contained a complete body. These were the things you dealt with when you were in charge of a planet’s military. Death was always the price of victory.

I didn’t even know the dead guardswomen, and yet still I got choked up during my speech.

For once, Colonel Sadys didn’t flirt with me.

Nobody did.

I was grateful for that.

After the ceremony was over, I went down to Medical to sit with the Bombshells and count my blessings: Oia, Venus, Cygna, and Sirius. I was incredibly grateful they lay safely in their beds with the translucent reconstruction masks flickering away over their faces. It could’ve been them in those coffins on the landing deck tonight instead of ten strangers. A little restorative cosmetic surgery was nothing compared to the crushing finality of death.

The lights were low in the quiet recovery room.

I slumped in a hexagonal chair. It wasn’t the long, cushioned one designed for sleeping. It was a hard plastic one designed for staying awake. My goal was to avoid more PTSD nightmares.

As tired as I was, staying awake was impossible.

I tried anyway.

Annoyingly, every time my head lolled to the side, I jolted painfully awake. Maybe I should transfer my exhausted ass to a cushioned chair. No, I had to stay awake, for the Bombshells’ sake. Eyelids getting heavier… jolt! This was useless. My body was demanding sleep. Too tired to move or even think, I slid down the chair until I piled onto the cold, hard floor and lay flat.

I woke to the sensation of floating.

“Whu?” I snorted and looked around.

Four Shock Knights had lifted me off the ground from where I’d been dozing, and were carrying me over to a full bed they must have rolled into the center of the recovery room between the Bombshells’ beds. They lowered me gently onto soft, warm blankets.

“Thank you, ladies,” Captain Theia said quietly.

The Shock Knights marched out of the recovery room.

Captain Theia remained at the foot of my bed and tugged off one of my boots. Her heavy breasts hung and swayed and jiggled a little while she worked it off my foot. As always, her golden uniform of gloves, boots, head piece and nothing else meant she was effectively naked.

“You