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

“Show us.”

Under the transport’s cockpit, its mechanical hatch-mouth opened. Out rolled ten 8-wheeled armored transport vehicles. The solid rubber tires squeaked on the moist metal deck as the boxy vehicles turned and parked. One vehicle parked with its tail facing Boltus and Hade. Electric motors whirred as the vehicle’s rear box-hatch lowered to the deck. An acid-green glow leaked from the shadowy interior.

“What have you brought me that could be so big?” Boltus asked. “Some sort of Technomantic doomsday device?”

“No,” Hade said. “Two hundred living Spartax warriors.”

“Two hundred?” Boltus asked in awe. “They must be dead. Nobody can capture that many Spartax warriors alive.”

Hade explained, “We surprised their assault craft as it came out of Fold. We were waiting for them in my warship.”

“Surely they fought back,” Boltus chortled rustily.

“Not for long,” Hade said, proud. “Now they’re in suspended animation.”

“Suspended, you say?”

“See for yourself.”

Boltus clanked forward, extending one armored palm to shine a super-bright beam of light into the shadows. Inside the vehicle were two rows of ten suspension chambers. The interiors of the transparent glassteel cylinders glowed a ghastly acid-green. Inside each of the 20 chambers floated a lone Spartax warrior.

The Spartax men did not float in fluid. They floated in frozen fields of time. The time fields were sustained by the humming technomantic engines that powered each suspension chamber.

“How did you manage the temporal suspension?” Boltus asked in awe.

“Nyfe,” Hade said and tipped his horned and knightly helmet toward Vok Nyfe. “He built the temporary suspension field that immobilized the Spartax assault craft when it unfolded, and he built the suspension chambers you see here.”

“Technomancy?” Boltus said respectfully, making eye contact with the unnerving Nyfe.

Vok Nyfe dipped his skeletal robotic chin in the slightest nod. Pinpoints of white light in his robo-skeletal eye sockets flared briefly.

Boltus nodded then turned his attention to the Spartax warriors inside the suspension chambers. Hardened, black, exoskeletal armor plates grew from their leathery black skin. They resembled shiny black beetle men. The contours of their armored skin mimicked male human musculature to a degree, but each armored muscle on their bodies was bladed and striated with scalloped razor lines and chitinous ridges. Their long, shiny, midnight black and hyper-stylized grasshopper faces were stoic and stern.

Boltus said to Hade, “What do you want me to do with them?”

“Upgrade these two hundred Spartax warriors into killing machines.”

“They already are,” Boltus chortled. “Everyone knows a Spartax child has the battle prowess of ten grown men of any other living organic race. These are fully grown males. What am I supposed to do to improve perfection?”

“Convert them into unliving cybernoids like you did me, builder. I trust you’ll find a way.” Hade’s magnesium eyes flared white with something approaching respect for his maker.

“I’ll start right away,” Boltus said, his own magnesium mad-scientist eyes burning with vile ideas inside his own knightly, horned helm, a helm that resembled a more imposing but cracked, dented, and battle-damaged version of the helm worn by his creation Hade.

As was often the case with preparations for a competent surprise attack, the intended target — Tim Pittwell — had no awareness of the forces building against him on distant Pandemon and elsewhere in the universe.

—: Chapter 54 :—

“First Lieutenant Mira is waiting for you on the landing deck, my king,” said Horna the Hot Nerd Girl. We were riding the loudly whirring hexagonal cargo elevator upward. Surrounding us were Captain Theia and the Shock Knights.

Overhead, a hexagonal hatch slid open, revealing the lavender Zalaxian sky. The jungle air was humid and sweltering and the heat hit me before we reached the landing deck level. To compensate, I used my ring to extract heat ENERGY from my body. Just a few degrees to keep me cool and prevent pit stains. When you were the acting king, it was best to never let them see you sweat. I saved this cooling process to my slowly growing Process Library and titled it OUTDOOR A/C.

The cargo elevator ride reminded me of being on an aircraft carrier elevator. The only thing missing was the ocean and the F/A-18E Super Hornets. That said, the ocean of purple and blue jungle surrounding the outpost and landing deck were a suitable stand-in for the Pacific, the Atlantic, or the Indian. Even the light breeze billowing through the jungle branches created waves.

The battle armor standing atop the deck like anime mechs?

As badass as any Earthly fighter jet I’d ever seen, except these were transformable mechs.

Real mechs.

These were the same model of mech I’d seen transform into fighter jets while battling Titano and the CyberKnights. Dragonfires, if I remembered correctly. Airplane wings hung from the back of each standing mech to suggest angel or devil wings, or perhaps a mechanized cape. These things looked like freaking Gundam mechs, but they weren’t cartoons. They were the real deal.

Sure, I’d watched these mechs in action twice now, but that had been from a distance during battle when tensions were high and I was distracted. Now I was mere meters away. I could see the scuffs, scorches, scratches, worn away paint, dents, and other imperfections all over the mechs’ used-and-abused armor plating.

Totally. Bad. Ass.

“Holy shit,” I laughed giddily like I did every time I went to an air show and walked around supersonic jet fighters parked on the tarmac with an array of dummy weapons on display. This was that, but with actual transformable battle mechs.

Dream. Come. True.

“Nice mechs, huh?” I said to my erotic entourage.

Horna had her nose in her tablet computer. She glanced up distractedly, pushed her eyeglasses up her nose, and said, “Oh, yes, my king. Very much.” Then she was back in her tablet computer.

“Check it out,” I said to Captain Theia.

“Very nice,” she said, also distracted. Her eyes were scanning the landing deck for signs of trouble. Same with the other Shock Knights. They were focused on guarding me, not gawking at mechs.

I sighed.

There were some activities in life that required the company of men. Imagine that.