Harem Assassins : King Sekton's Harem Planet, Book 2: A Space Opera Harem Adventure by Baron Sord (mobi ebook reader .TXT) đź“•
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- Author: Baron Sord
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That said, I had to remind myself I wasn’t a ticket-holder at an air show on my day off. This was my new life. This was my military.
Mine.
And these were my mechs.
Mine to command or pilot as I saw fit, and for an important purpose no less. Defending the outpost from the likes of Titano, the CyberKnights and their demon army, or whatever Baron Crewd von Bludlust threw at me next.
Looking at these awe-inspiring Dragonfire mechs, I couldn’t escape the feeling it was my first day on the job as president of my own damn super-power. No, not a super-power. A freaking entire planet of perpetually half-naked babes! It wasn’t all bad news and deadly battles here on Zalaxia. Because…
Babes.
Everywhere babes!
Even on the landing deck. The mechanics, ground crew, and pilots walking around — a mix of Normals and Monsters — were wearing jumpsuits or flight suits that covered everything.
That didn’t stop me from gawking. More importantly, they were gawking at me. Every single woman. They couldn’t keep their eyes off me.
“Hey ladies,” I waved randomly.
Several of them giggled, the rest smiled, tipping their heads in recognition.
“Crown on deck!” one of them called out loudly, likely an officer.
At that moment, every woman on the landing deck stopped what they were doing and turned to face me before bowing formally, arms out, heads low, one leg forward, one leg bent at the knee in the familiar ballet-style pose I’d seen so many times.
Having beautiful women stop everything when you arrived to literally bow never got old.
Luckiest man alive, is what I was.
My mood suddenly soured when my eyes touched on the king’s Golden Galleon glinting sunlight. The large, extravagant starcraft still stood on deck exactly where the previous King Sekton had parked it shortly before I’d killed him. Every time I saw it, painful memories of the battered and beaten Bombshells nagged at my emotions.
Trying to harden myself to the sight of it, I let my eyes wander over the Golden Galleon to appreciate its design and elegant lines. It was the megayacht of spaceships. Whoever designed it deserved an award. The ship itself had done nothing to harm my Bombshells. It was just a thing. A thing of beauty, if I was being honest. Technically, it was now mine, or soon would be after my coronation. That was a good thing. Eventually, I’d go inside for a tour and a test flight, but I wanted to fly a mech fighter jet first.
A flash of motion from the side caught my eye.
Cue the angel choir.
Ahhhhhhhh!
The hottest young thing I’d seen all day came strutting across the deck. She did not wear a V-cut uniform. She wore a form-fitting sky-blue flight suit that revealed slender legs, slim and trim hourglass hips, and perky breasts. Her blonde hair was tied up in a regulation bun. For a pilot, she appeared on the young side — fresh-faced and barely eighteen.
Hot Young Thing here was a “Normal” babe: blonde-haired and blue-eyed and could easily pass for Oia’s youngest sister. After all, both women were pilots. I had to wonder, were they related somehow? Or what about Venus and Major Akeso? Were they related too like I’d thought? Was every Zalaxian babe related somehow? Genetically engineered and grown in vats? Or was it because King Sekton was the only man having sex with these women? That would make every woman on this planet a half sister, wouldn’t it?
But, that only partially made sense.
After I’d killed the last Sekton and removed his True Ring, he’d shrunk down to a pot-bellied amphibious fish man alien with blue fins and green skin. He wasn’t a “Normal” or even vaguely human. Not even close. His offspring would be, at the very least, half-amphibious like him. He wouldn’t have any “Normal” babe offspring. They’d all be half-Normal, half-Monster babes. And they wouldn’t be red-skinned Devilkin babes like Corporal Syx. Or golden skinned, or orange, or purple, or any of a hundred other vibrantly colored Monster babes I’d seen walking around.
As for the hundreds of fully “Normal” Zalaxian babes I’d seen, they couldn’t possibly be related to the fish-man Sekton. Which made me wonder, were “Normals” the offspring of previous, fully “Normal” kings who’d come — pun intended — along before Mr. Fish Man Sekton got here?
I knew Zalaxian women lived a long time, so it was possible, especially if there was a high turnover of Zalaxian Kings. That didn’t bode well for me, but it seemed the most likely explanation when you took into account very young Normals like Hot Young Thing. There had to have been a Normal king not long ago to account for a young babe like her, right?
Unless Zalaxian women were grown in vats.
That would account for every variation of Normal and Monster babe I’d seen so far, but it was just a guess.
I would’ve loved to ask Oia some questions about this, because she knew so much about Zalaxian culture and history, but she needed her rest, and most every other neuron in my brain was riveted on Hot Young Thing here on the landing deck.
“You must be the new king,” Hot Young Thing said, stopping with her hip cocked.
“So they tell me,” I chuckled. “Acting, anyway.”
When our eyes met, my droopy mood after seeing Oia’s injuries earlier this morning did an about-face and reversed course at FTL speeds. It was a true fact: for straight men, the attention of a young, gorgeous woman was the ultimate anti-depressant. There will come a time on Earth when psychiatrists will prescribe fully-realistic love bots with advanced AI’s to lift the spirits of
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