by Marcus Sloss
“Fine, keep going,” I muttered, not concerned in the slightest as we bypassed the ugly rats on two legs. “I was warned to be cautious of bringing home strays.”
“Ha! I rock your world, lover of mine,” Everly sang out. “As for mining, we have the machines. They will do fine, and Crixxi are not bothered by mining tunnels like other species. Generally, ratkin are only purchased for dangerous mining. You force them to live where they work and bribe them with a really short contract of freedom. You hope they mine enough to cover their costs before some raiding party kills them,” Everly said assertively.
“I am starting to think most species hide their true operations. If this has been going on for millions of years, then operations well out of Xgate range are probably common,” I said, contemplating the various raiding scenarios we had come up with. “We were scared to keep stealing Yexin, and those were close. But they literally helped us so much.”
“Yes, there is much to consider,” Everly nodded, “Mansion and Aspen are neither close nor far from Xgate 232. It may be a problem, but one we can adjust to once we are established.”
“That is why Jacky picked up the two extra underway transport gates. So we can eventually pick out an isolated backup base, or long-term home,” I said, giving her ear a loving scratch while we continued down the line. “Please tell me we are close.”
“The Mounamine are not far. They will cycle children every three months with three or four young per cycle. Generally speaking, they are another successful subspecies, so don’t be surprised if the prices are a bit higher. A Crixxi costs less than a Mounamine does,” Everly said, and I raised a questioning eyebrow she noticed from the corner of her eye. She snorted, “Crixxi are assholes. We demand a tribal structure even when bound in servitude contracts. We will kill each other until the appropriate pecking order is established, if there is not a smooth transition.” She grunted, “The best way to utilize Crixxi is to demand a clause be inserted in their contracts for them to be used as combat troops, but most Crixxi will not do this.” She rolled her eyes. “Honestly,” she sighed, “controlling captured creatures of any species is a huge pain.”
“So if a Mounamine refuses to work, then what?” Perci asked.
“You are required to provide the terms of your contract. Everything is in that contract. Ours to Eric Yang, is blank. You have to remember, the initial contract matters. Those seventy-two Pandarin we purchased are loosely bound with only eight hours of work required from those above maturity ages. I will enforce ten after they get a tour of our facilities and tell those who balk at the extra hours in a nonthreatening manner that otherwise they will go back on sale to a far less awesome protector.”
Perci frowned.
“Basically,” Everly explained, “we cannot make the contract longer, but we can adjust the terms. Most species are amendable to a give-and-take type of trade. Thirty years reduced to one for combat defense will generally have Crixxi racing to snatch up a deal. In our case, we lost our home. There were no open vacant spots for our tribe to shift into,” she sighed, “the Lurrol saw to that. We lost a few hundred fighters, meaning there were no new battles we could easily win to lay claim to the lands of another tribe. Coming to Earth has been a very wise decision so far. My Crixxi are happy as development has progressed and we are more secure, so we do not need such things in our contracts.”
I grinned at her, pulled her close and breathed into her sensitive ears, “Do you truly need your contracts?”
“Yes, Eric,” a red blush spread up her neck, “though I will welcome the day when we do not, wait a good while to release us. You could reset our terms to two years, including military service, and that would probably erase any resentment from our defeat and the loss of our home,” Everly said, stopping us in front of a Mounamine.
How did I know it was one? The five-foot-tall humanoid with whiskers, a small nose, large, dimpled cheeks, and extra-wide, round ears was not so different from our species at all. Their tail was more like a bunny’s nub.
“Huh, you cannot mate with these?” I said, asking with a tilted head. They were adorable.
“Oh, they make fantastic sex toys. But Crixxi will not reproduce with them,” Everly said, pulling up the interface. She went through the information about the species. “Humans do not openly share data that is compiled. They tend to be a savage species. Time will tell, I guess. There is zero chance these short little maids do not end up bent over some piece of furniture they are dusting and dripping seed from some human stud down their inner thigh.”
Perci snickered, chortled, then burst into a laugh. She high-fived Everly.
“The Mounamine are cute little monster girls. The men are flimsy, though; I doubt many human women end up shacking up with these,” Perci said, and Everly shrugged.
“The males are compassionate, understanding, great listeners, and eager to please. Oh, and they are excellent caregivers,” she said, opening the widescreen to start shopping. “You might be surprised.”
I watched over their shoulders. Everly set the search parameters to auction sale, a higher female to male ratio, with at least a thousand Mounamine, and sorted by price from lowest to highest. She checked the boxes beside three of the available listings, and after reading the additional information, tossed aside two of the listings.
She presented the last listing to us. “This auction is for twenty-two hundred Mounamine, three quarters females, at a reasonable, though elevated price.” She paused and growled. “Before we bid, I need to know why the price is a bit higher and the ratio so skewed,” Everly muttered, her tail whipping around behind her in agitation. “The previous owners were an aquatic species …” She clicked through a few screens. “Oh, here is a note. The dome of the males’ sleeping quarters, which kept them dry and provided them oxygen, burst. Most of the males drowned.” She frowned. “Well, that is not good. Do we take on the downtrodden at a discount or keep looking?”
“And this is why you are here with us, Eric,” Perci breathed in a sad, soft voice, “you get to decide the fate of such unfortunates.”
“Your assessment?” I asked my Crixxi lover.
“This is not a scenario, as one might think, where you can simply buy a large number of available women as replacement lovers. These Mounamine females will struggle—some have undoubtedly committed suicide with the loss of their mates.” The red-head shook her fiery mane. “This looks like a breeding farm gone bad ... Yes, the number of adolescents and young adults is abnormally high.” She frowned, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the owners flooded the males’ compartment on purpose to try to sell the females at a higher rate as unattached nubiles. To an Eerania clan—a species of … I guess ‘rat-ogres’ would be a fitting description—these would make great lower wives. Yes, we would pay through the nose for these mouse-women and they come with emotional baggage,” Everly said with a sharp exhale and a sad frown. She pointed to the auction interface, where I noticed there were already forty-two bids. “I would avoid this one, Eric. For a few reasons.” She winced and threw an apologetic look at Perci. “We can’t save everyone.”
“I agree,” I nodded, “find me another option, please. And we can use more males to help build. It is not like we are seeking lower wives,” I said sternly.
“Adjusting search parameters for a balanced female to male ration… Okay, there are a few auctions where we can save a lot of neilspar by bidding on them. If we win a few of the smaller auctions, we should be just fine. I bid on and have saved eight listings to stay on top of any alerts.” She grinned, the hint of an extra canine peeking from her smile. “Please lead the way, Eric,” Everly said, confident in her selections. We continued marching down the line. “I will have to watch the timers closely, though, and may need either Perci’s or Willow’s assistance to keep track of everything.”
“I am going to shift personal purchase requests over to Nancy and Jacky, then. We still have a huge list of things to buy once the main chunk of personnel shopping is done,” P
erci said, reminding me of something.
“What about crafters?” I asked, “You know … like, seamstress and tailor staff? I enjoy having clothes that fit,” I said. The remark came out with more snark and in a more sarcastic tone than intended. I apologized and shrugged; my irritation was not aimed at her.
“Of course, that’s part of it, and apparently we are going to need maid outfits and butler attire. I mean, those Mounamine were too cute. You’re not jealous, are you, Eric?” Perci asked.
“So … this may sound odd,” my brows drew down as I tried to put my feelings into words, “but I am more jealous of the Mounamine than the Crixxi,” I admitted. Everly sputtered, tried to hold in her laughter, and failed.
“What?” I grumbled, “A guy can have certain insecurities. Not ten minutes ago, I didn’t realize human women would have to give birth to multiple preemies.” I shrugged. “I am not a father. I have not been around many kids. My limited leadership training relied on yelling and punishment. I am not going soft, I am just saying, I have shortcomings,” I said, defensively hunching my shoulders as we walked past taller species, their heights approaching five foot nine. “I am not jealous of either species. I just have more to learn from a docile, domesticated male. Maybe I am father nesting, if that is a thing.”
Perci coughed and pulled me to a stop. She snuggled in close, fidgeted with my hand, and then looked up with luminous teary eyes. “I love you,” she said, “You will be a great Dad. That was unbelievably cute.”
“I am in agreement with my sister wife,” Everly nodded. “I was expecting you to be a bruiser of an alpha-male. Seeing that you have a softer side, that you like children—makes me wet with desire.” My cock twitched at her words and sultry tone. She snuck a hand down my pants and tried to grab my stiffening penis, only to have her hand slide through my body with the aggressive move. “Stupid grand market and its dumb rules,” she pouted.
I noticed a human display out of the corner of my eye, and left both the ladies standing there chatting to approach the interface.
The human was a male, with a great beard on his face. His eyes were inset with bags under them. Their skin had swirling blue lines ingrained into tanned skin. There were three variations up for auction. All varieties were blue-skinned, with one having a shortened thumb. I could not tell a difference between the other two variations. I pulled up the pricing list and found they were downright cheap. I could buy a hundred of these Humans for the price of a single Crixxi. The note indicated they were captured trying to raid. Good for protein, the note read. Ouch. I frowned. It seemed there were ways around the contracts. Hell, have a neighboring tribe raid, kill your servants, and you were not held at fault.
I left them to keep moving on down the line. I passed a few hundred aliens of all kinds until I found Earth Humans. I opened the price list. Hmm. They were cheap too. Fourteen were available in a buy-it-now deal. A man, five women, and eight children. The note said these had been purchased on a whim last golden cycle, but had become too depressed to amend their contracts. ‘Our loss is your gain,’ the note read. That was it. Fourteen. Billions of people and there were fourteen for sale. Were humans that loathed? I purchased the families with a sad click of a button. I would try to do my best to help them.
I trudged forward towards the Crixxi when my Gpad chimed an alert.
“Uh, Cap? I have a man, three mothers, two aunts, and eight children sobbing in my container.” - Felix.
“If Dalila is with you, get them to calm down and set them up in a hotel. Have an Aspen unit take them there.” - Cap
“Consider it done.” - Felix
“That's it?” Perci said, catching up and seeing the interface display and the line disappear, and the line condense over the open spot.
“I… we… we needed our purchases. Without them…” My shoulders slumped and I stared at the ground for a long moment before meeting Perci’s gaze. “I am making excuses. I could have saved so many last week,” I sighed, picking up the pace to a brisk walk. My feet felt like they were encased in concrete. I muttered, “Fourteen is better than none, I guess.”
CHAPTER 4
The Crixxi section had three variations. I noticed that slightly different ear placement, greater or leaner muscle mass, and then height—probably due to differences in gravity density—seemed to be the biggest differences between them. I turned the interface over to Everly so she could match up and show me which was which. I picked her up by the shoulders and moved her from image to image. My hmms, huhs, and frustrated chuffs seemed to delight her. She found my playful banter hilarious.
“I am obviously in this group,” Everly said, when I placed her before the middle Crixxi variation’s image. “We have the fluffiest fur, tallest height, and biggest breasts.” She gestured to the Crixxi image to her left, “See how this Crixxive is the smallest of the bunch, and its female is rather flat-chested? This variation reject the virum.” She nodded to the Crixxi image to her right, “the Crixxon adapt to virum, but their ears face backwards, which is akin to cheating in the jungle.” Everly gave a grunt of disdain. “You face a minor dilemma here. If you pick the variations to my left or right, you will have another Crixxi babe trying squeeze into our bed. I mean, I—”
“Ha! That makes this decision easy. Middle it is,” I said confidently, and Everly frowned.
“Eric Yang, you just got in trouble. Ohhhh,” Perci laughed, drawing out her statement.
“I will rationalize what is otherwise a poor decision,” Everly sniffed, “mainly because it will make my personal life infinitely less catty.”
“Please clarify,” I ordered.
“You are our tribe leader. As the boss, what is more important? Four thousand warriors on the field of battle in mecha suits and your bed gets a plus one, or your bed stays the same and we have only a thousand warriors in mecha suits, leaving expensive war machines vacant?” Everly said with a finger wag.
I shrugged. Maybe it made more sense militarily to expand my harem, but I didn’t care.
My reward was a tender kiss. “We are very happy, Eric. We even understand about Jill and Mary.” She smiled up at me, “I want to be happy. I dreamed of being a matriarch to a strong warrior and you make me proud. I will just have to work harder to make the most of our situation. The Crixxive and Crixxon are easier to capture, as their worlds have less jungle. Ours is all jungle.”
Perci stepped forward and looked over the sale sheets. There were only seven. Six of the available auctions were small orders of under a hundred Crixxi, with buy-it-now set prices. One with four males had already dropped its price twice.
“The Crixxi in the largest order are not infected with virum… That is almost unheard of and not good. Let me check the note,” Everly said, all but pushing Perci out of the way. “Sour milk… These are an offshoot. A colony ship that was captured by the overlords themselves. We would be buying from the gatekeepers’ automatons. Hmm…”
“I had wondered how they dealt with that. If they just returned them to a random planet or what,” I said, crossing my arms in thought. “How close is this auction to the other auctions we are tracking?”
“Well, I am watching a few, but the big ones are a half hour apart. I cannot see who the other bidders are, but a jungle Crixxi might not even be the best option for them. Human construction is more like our shipbuilding than jungle living,” Everly said, and I grunted.
“Okay,” I said, coming to a decision, “buy them all around the same time. If a few slip through on the buy-it-now, so be it.”
My hand went to my Gpad, and I posted the following text on the command net.
“Who needs help the most? Our personnel shopping is set for now.” - Cap
“I need more funds.” - Torrez
“I need to get in the field to start running tank drills.” - Jevon
“I finished getting more weapons and shields. Jacky and I are taking longer than we thought on personal items. We need more shoppers. Running into lines at vendors, and
vendors keep forcing us to pick a side in a stupid religious debate that we seem to never dance around well enough.” - Nancy
“I can help with the personal items, Nancy. Send me the list.” - Willow
“I was refused service due to not worshiping the Gate Gods at the first agricultural automation vendor. Almost to the second now.” - Daphne
“If Jevon heads out to the tank drills, who is there to manage supply outflow?” - Cap
“I am. I just relieved him after sorting out the New Zealanders. We are doing better now that the massive hovercraft is out the gate.” - Felix
Perci came over and rubbed my arm. “How about we window shop?”
“They are pretty squared away. Why is Torrez complaining about funds?” I asked Perci.
“Because he keeps overspending. Mclain is our last unknown. If he finds a shelled suit, I want one for all the warriors, even if they go inside a tank or whatever,” Perci said with a grimace. Everly kept browsing the other Crixxi variations while we talked. “Yeah, if we can rein in Torrez, we have plenty left over. If we give him free rein, we might run out and have no equipment for the new Crixxi troops.”
I called Torrez.
“Go for S4,” Torrez said.
My translator hummed and tingled. I rubbed the spot over my chest. I had a message… through the translator. Odd.
“Go for S4,” Torres said again.
“Sorry, I was distracted. Did you get everything we needed?” I asked.
“Pretty much. There are dropships I want to buy, but I would need significantly more funds. Mr. T, the storage boss, told Jevon we were approaching our cap limit. He’d ordered concrete to be tossed in and converted into large cinder blocks,” Torrez said with a grumble. “I’ve requested all the remaining trucks be converted for some dropships. Every bit helps, but he denied my request. Boss, these are beauts, and don’t tell Maria, but I’m in love.”
