Harem Assassins : King Sekton's Harem Planet, Book 2: A Space Opera Harem Adventure Baron Sord (good books to read for adults .txt) 📖

I called out over comms, “Crown to Control. I’m on the landing deck. Do you have me on scanners? Or whatever you call radar around here? Out.”

“Control to Crown. Yes, we have you on scanners. Out.”

“Is this Ursa? I mean, Crown to Control, is this Ursa? Out.”

“My kiiiiing,” Ursa purred. If she was anywhere near as hot as the sound of her voice — likely — she was as hot as they came here on Zalaxia. “You remembered.”

“Hey, girl. Of course I did. Good hearing your voice.”

“Yours too,” Ursa flirted. “When are you gonna come down to Control so we can finally see each other face to face?”

“As soon as I learn how to fly this Dragonfire,” I chuckled giddily, again flattered to have yet another woman begging for my attention.

“I’m gonna hold you to it, my king,” Ursa giggled.

“Not until after I hold it,” Mira muttered over her comms window. When she saw me looking at her window, she offered a sexy wink.

I chuckled, “So, yeah. Ursa. Do you handle Air Control too? Or do you have dedicated ATC? I mean, Air Traffic Control? Out.”

“We do,” Ursa said over audio, “but everything you say goes through me first. What do you need? Ursa out.”

“I’m going to run around the landing deck. Test out this battle rig. Can you instruct everyone on deck to, I don’t know, hide somewhere safe? In case I flail? Out.” I tried to sound jokey, but I half meant it.

“Yes, my king,” Ursa said confidently. “Control to Deck Team. Clear the landing deck. Emergency Teams, assume ready position. I repeat, Emergency Teams, to ready positions. Crown is hot. I repeat, Crown is hot.”

That didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

“Ummmm, thanks,” I said, a trifle nervous.

“Control to Crown,” Ursa purred, “you’ve got this, my king.”

“Thanks.”

“You can get me after,” she tittered.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said without realizing what she’d said because I was now 100% focused on not fucking up and destroying this YX-37 by crashing it into the landing deck before ever getting off the ground, and knocking over a dozen other Dragonfires in a fireball of shame. There were at least ten of them standing near Mira’s mech and mine, just waiting to get bowled over by some bumbling buffoon who thought he could pilot a Dragonfire without any training.

Needless to say, any thoughts of assassins or saboteurs were the last thing on my mind now.

—: Chapter 66 :—

There were many eerie similarities between Tim Pittwell’s situation while he was in and around the jungle outpost on Zalaxia and the situation on Oahu in the fall of 1941, during the days leading up to the attack on Pearl Harbor, and prior to the United States’ official full-scale entry into World War II that followed soon after.

Like the Americans stationed or living on Oahu, Tim was living in a remote outpost in a tropical paradise that rivaled Hawaii. Like the volcanic Hawaiian islands, the Zalaxian outpost was surrounded by volcanos, some active some not. Tim was also surrounded by beach-worthy babes in bikinis. And Tim knew there was a good chance he would be attacked by the enemy at any time, but he didn’t know when, or how large the attack force would be, or where exactly the attack would originate.

Most importantly, much like there were spies for the Japanese government who had infiltrated Oahu and were sending regular intel back to the generals of the Imperial Army on the Japanese mainland, there was at least one ambitious pirate spy who had infiltrated the Zalaxian base where Tim was enjoying the relative calm before the storm of war.

The minute after Tim climbed inside his YX-37 Dragonfire and closed the hatch, one pirate spy with direct knowledge of the acting king’s whereabouts immediately sent word to Hade’s warship.

Because of this spy’s unprecedented access to unwitting Tim Pittwell, Hade and his henchmen were made aware of Tim’s every move the moment he made them.

The only question left to answer: who was the spy?

It might not be who you think.

When it came to ferreting out a skillful spy, Occam’s Razor rarely applied.

So, who was it?

Was it Lieutenant Mira? Captain Theia? Another of Tim’s 50 Shock Knights? Tim’s nerdy assistant Horna? Corporal Syx? Ursa in Control? Staff Sergeant Imi who personally prepared every meal Tim ate? Major Akeso in Medical who saw Tim every day and night visiting his beloved Bombshells? Colonel Sadys, the ice queen herself who oversaw everything that happened at base? Hydra the hateful base mainbrain who tracked every person, every minute of every day?

Or one of hundreds of other women who worked in Control or Medical or the Mess or on the Landing Deck?

Knowing might save Tim’s life.

Not knowing would get him killed.

Whatever the answer, everybody knew the key to successful spying or assassination was always keeping your identity secret from your target until the last possible second.

And the best assassins?

They never revealed their identity to anyone.

Not even their victims.

Not even at the last second of the victim’s life before death snuffed them out.

—: Chapter 67 :—

Before I moved my YX-37 Dragonfire, I decided it was probably a good idea to engage my harness. Much like on the Artemis, I merely had to think about it and the multi-point harness snaked around me, tightening me into my cockpit seat. Unlike the Artemis, which had a basic four-point harness — two shoulder points, two hip points — this rig had four more padded straps that snaked around my thighs and shins.

Once everything was snug, I glanced around my rig’s HUD controls and gauges while muttering to myself, “No pressure.”

“Mira to Crown, show us what you’ve got.” She offered a flirty wink.

“How about you show me?” I winked back.

“After I win the bet, I’ll show you everything, my king.”

“Mmm,” I smiled, trying not to picture Mira without her tight flight suit holding back her assets.

“I know what you’re thinkiiiiiing,” Mira singsonged, grinning back at me via the comms window.

“Stop distracting me,”