Aspirant 2: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure

by Maxx Whittaker

  “What is your name?” Syl asks, speaking to him for the first time.

  The kid eyes her, gaze running along her beautiful scales. “Damn, girl. You chose a tough path with a skin like that, but I gotta say, its working for you.” He smiles at Mika next. “And you. Damn. Thick with like, four c’s.” Then Astra. “And everyone loves nerdy girls, am I right?”

  I take a step forward, patience starting to run out. “My friend asked you a question.”

  His remaining eye darts to me, and his little cat tongue darts out past pointy teeth. “Hey, sorry. Just can’t help admiring the hottest three skins I’ve seen in a long time. You get me, big boy. I know you do.”

  I can’t help but laugh. He’s an idiot, but I don’t think he means any harm. “Name.”

  “Wick,” he says.

  “Wick?” Astra wrinkles her nose. “Cute.”

  “It’s not meant to be.” Wick holds up his paws and makes shooting noises. “You know. Like the movie? John Wick?”

  He’s a three-foot cat kid, has been beaten half to death, yet he still sasses the girls about their looks and can barely lift himself from the dirt as he tries to act badass. I can’t help it. I like him.

  Mika’s looking back at her ass. “Really? Four c’s?”

  “Definitely, babe.” Wick shivers, then coughs out dirt. “Anyway, I’m out. Peace.”

  “Wait,” I say, stopping him as he turns. Maybe if we can help him, he can show us a way into the city. “Tell us about this contract.”

  “Monster contract, worth a bundle,” Wick says dismissively. “Don’t bother trying to get it outta me. Lowbies like you’d get jacked in a heartbeat.”

  I want to insist, show him that we’re not the average Lifestream gamers, but he’s already walking away. Considering his tone, I don’t think he’d believe us, anyway.

  I sigh as I watch him limp up a hill. He’s such a pathetic figure, I can’t help but pull the healing potion from my back. “Wick, at least let us heal you.”

  That stops the kid in his tracks. He turns slowly, eyes narrow. “Heal? How…?”

  “With this.” I wave the healing potion at him, crimson liquid sloshing in the thick glass. It’s still three quarters full. Plenty to spare.

  His eyes light up. “Well, why didn’t you say that you had something like that?” He smiles, mock punching me in the leg as I catch up to him. “You sly dog, you held out on me!”

  “Your flattery must have blanked our minds,” Astra says dryly.

  Syl crouches in front of Wick, staring into his eyes. She holds a hand up, stopping me from offering the potion for a moment. “If you try to steal it, I will kill you.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Wick clutches a paw to his chest, mock wounded. “I’d never. What kind of cat do you take me for?”

  “Don’t mind her,” Mika says, smiling and resting a hand on Syl’s shoulder. “She’s the serious type.”

  “Well, tell her to go be serious somewhere else so I can get a sip of this dankness.” Wick smacks nonexistent lips.

  I roll my eyes and tip the potion forward, holding it for him. He takes a mouthful eagerly, then sighs. “Oh, hell yeah. That’s good.” As we watch, his body knits; it’s like the convalescence chamber on the Citadel, but even faster. Missing fur regrows as the purpling at his eye fades, and he straightens as cuts and nicks seal. His clothes even mend themselves, reforming into a leather shirt and pants.

  Wick takes a deep breath, then opens both his eyes for the first time. They sparkle with happiness and something like mischief. “Thanks, chief. That was great.” He taps a claw at the glass bottle. “Where’d kids like you get a healing potion, anyway? And do you have any idea how many people would kill you on sight for this?”

  “Earned it,” I say quickly. The lie comes easy. Do the Threvians monitor every in-game communication? It seems doubtful, and I feel like if they were always watching they would have gone apeshit the second the Shepherd tore its way into Lifestream, but I don’t know for sure and I’m not taking chances. “And I think we can handle ourselves.”

  “Huhhh…” Wick cocks an eyebrow. “Earned it, eh?” He doesn’t try to hide his skepticism, but in the end, he shrugs. “Welp, however you got it, it tells me something.”

  “And what’s that?”

  The glint in his eye says one thing: trouble. “That maybe you can help me with my contract after all.”

  “What does it involve?” Mika sounds as guarded as I feel. “We’re not interested in PvP.”

  “Coulda fooled me,” Wick quips. “You drove off those assholes that were kicking my teeth in easy enough. Nice trick with the fire, by the way. I knew you were hot, but that’s on another level.”

  Syl takes a protective step in front of Mika. “You were unconscious. How did you know that we drove them off? Or about her ability?”

  Wick pauses. It’s infinitesimal, but warning bells honed by the Citadel blare in my mind. “Nah, not totally out.” He rubs his head. “Just knocked around. Playing possum so they’d leave me alone.” He eyes the onyx length of Syl’s claws, and his long whiskers twitch before he looks back to me. “Can she, like, back up a little so I can tell you how rich I’m about to make you?”

  “Keep talking,” I say, pretty sure we’re walking away from this.

  “Okay, check it.” Wick spears the air with two tiny claws, then pulls them apart like he’s doing the ‘enlarge window’ motion on an invisible touchscreen. A brilliant, golden scroll appears between his fingers, growing until its full sized and floating. “Like I said, monster contract. Should be easy peasy for badasses like you, right?”

  I quickly scan the floating document. It looks pretty standard for an RPG; it’s got the target, the reward, and how to find the monster. “Ten thousand chips?”

  “Bingo.” Wick snaps the contract shut and it disappears with a little pop. “Five k for me, five for you guys.”

  “I’m assuming we’ll be doing all the fighting and dangerous stuff?” Astra shoots me a warning look. “You get half for… What?”

  “Hey, getting this contract wasn’t easy. They only pop once a week and you’ve gotta be fast if you want to snag one. Fast and sneaky.” His smile is pure self-satisfaction. “Luckily for you kids, I’m both.” He falters, frowning. “Only problem is that I’m way too low level to solo this.”

  “And you didn’t think too hard about who might try to take it from you, did you?” Mika nods to where Wick’s attackers ran off. “Did you try to hire them before us?”

  “Ah, yeah…” Wick’s whiskers flatten. “You can’t really go looking for the kind of help I need in the city. Terror Squad and a few of the others mega guilds have ears everywhere. They’ll gank you for a contract before you’ve got time to blink. So, you go with the dregs out here and hope you don’t get jumped.”

  I sigh. “And we’re the dregs, eh?”

  Wick doesn’t even look apologetic. “You’re, what… Level two? Three? But hey, that’s okay. Something tells me there’s more than meets the eye here.”

  “Alright, fine. We’ll discuss it. By the way… What’s a Corroc?”

  Wick waves a paw dismissively. “Nothing you can’t handle. Claws and teeth, poison spit, usual shit. Bout yea high.” He points to Syl. “Like I said, it’ll be cake.”

  “Sounds pretty standard,” Mika says. “Let’s mosey on over thataway, shall we?”

  “Sure, sure.” Wick plops down, long tail curling around his legs. “Take your time. I’ll watch the fireworks. You’ve got a few hours until this all dies down, by the way, so if you take the contract…”

  “Got it,” I call as we move off a short distance. The battle in the distance ebbs and flows. For every attacker the city’s defenders take out of the sky, there are two more that dart in to pluck players from the battlements. They take them up into the air, dropping them to plummet hundreds of feet to the city streets, and I thank God we can’t see beyond the walls. The defenders are a fearsome mix of mages and warriors, and
it’s clear that they’re going to win in the end. The airborne assault is dwindling; they’ve lost at least half their number and the city players seem endless.

  “What’s the point of all this?” I ask as we crest a low hill. “There’s no way Obsidian can win this, and they had to have known that before they attacked. There’s gotta be thousands of players in the city.”

  “Resources?” Mika brushes her hair from her eyes. “In some games like this, just doing damage yields rewards. Experience, money…”

  “Sometimes, it is about sending a message.” Syl stares at the city, face nothing but long grim lines. “Spreading fear and death can be worth losses to your own armies if it destabilizes the enemy. Keeps them frightened and half ready.”

  “Avalon’s certainly doing that,” I say. Her raven seems to be everywhere, and whatever shields and protection she has turns aside every attack the defenders throw her way. Her bow fires over and over, and every shot tears a hole in the wall or in a player. As she covers her guildmates, they dart low and pick up injured players before winging over the horizon.

  “Yeah. Let’s avoid her, shall we?” Mika turns back to us, one eye still on Wick as he pokes at a bug or something in the dirt. “So, we doing this?”

  “Why would we?” Astra asks. “Risk our lives for this kid? Do him a favor?”

  “Well, there is the monetary gain,” I say. “Bombor warned us that everything in Acheryx costs. We need information. A place to hunker down and make a plan.” I wince at a massive explosion in the distance that’s closely followed by tinny screams. “Out here doesn’t seem like the best place to do that.”

  “The city isn’t looking much better.”

  “Eh, this’ll be over soon.” Mika leans into me, an unconscious gesture that warms me. “Pretty standard scrap for an MMO. Player on player raid, blah blah blah. When Obsidian gets what they want or runs out of players it’ll be business as usual until the next time.”

  “So, you think we should do this?” I ask, twining my fingers into her hair.

  She leans into the touch, eyes closing. “Yeah. The monster’s level ten, which is pretty low. The system may think we’re level one, but with the abilities we brought from the Citadel I’d wager we’re way higher. Maybe not on her level,” she says, nodding toward Avalon as the raven rider dive bombs the battlements, “but we’re definitely not noobs.”

  “What did Wick say? Poison spit?” Astra smiles. “Thank you, Bombor.”

  “The skewer.” My excitement rises. “I forgot. Mika, can you see that in our character panel?”

  “No, I can’t see buffs or anything that complicated, sadly.” She points above my head. “It’s just a small box with your name and level and an empty spot where your guild would be.”

  “That’s okay. We got this. So. Do this contract, make some scratch, find a tavern.” I nod. “Sounds simple enough.”

  Syl takes a long breath like there’s something she wants to say but had been dreading. “I propose we split up. Sam and I will take care of the Corroc while Mika and Astra stay behind.”

  “What? Why would we…” Astra shakes her head. “Split up? After all this?”

  “Yes. We have no way to know if Wick will flee the moment we leave. And bringing him will be too much of a distraction if we must battle this beast.” Syl nods to Mika, and though her face is granite, I know I’m not the only one who sees the sadness in her alien eyes. “You said yourself that this should be a simple thing. Sam and I can handle it. You know it is true.”

  Mika looks to me, every fiber of her being sending a warning in my direction.

  I give her the slightest nod. I know what Syl’s trying to do. Not gonna happen.

  Mika sighs and dips her head. I trust you.

  “Sounds good,” I say. “Syl, let’s do it.”

  She smiles gratefully before taking Astra’s hand. “Thank you, Astra. You are clan.”

  “Uh, thanks? You too?” Astra looks to me, baffled. She doesn’t get it yet.

  Syl turns to Mika and wraps her in a tight embrace. “Live well, Viera.” She kisses Mika’s cheek.

  Over Syl’s shoulder, Mika’s eyes plead with me, wet with unshed tears.

  Syl finally releases her, then turns to take me in. There’s something so final in her face, like she’s already disconnecting. I’d almost laugh if this was about anything else. She’s trying to hide her intent, and she’s doing a really, really bad job of it.

  But I won’t show her I know. Not yet. “Let’s do this.”

  13

  Swamp of Scorn

  Player: Sam

  Level: 1

  “This is strangely unsettling.”

  “Yeah. I’ve driven a lot of miles in my life, seen a lot of places. But this… This is…”

  “Unsettling,” Syl finishes with one of her rare half smiles.

  This is the sudden and bizarre transition from open plains with copses of trees to fucking wetlands. We’ve been walking maybe twenty minutes through landscape you’d see in a postcard of England, steadily approaching what looks like a cliff. The landscape looks like it just… ends. But the road is a straight line, and signposts at the occasional intersection we’ve passed assure us that we’re on the right track, headed for the Swamp of Scorn.

  And then we got to the edge of the “cliff.”

  We stand together, staring down at something like the Florida Everglades if they’d been transported to hell. Water’s everywhere, cut by long chains of grassy island that looks scary dubious when I think of them holding our weight. Exotic trees burst from the ground in bunches, and though they resemble varieties on Earth, they’re not like any I’ve ever seen. Some kind of green mist rises in thick threads from the water’s surface, and in other places the pools seem to be boiling. The air is dark and oppressive like the blazing sun doesn’t penetrate the area. There’s no visible barrier or similar to that… It’s like the light just stops.

  But the weirdest thing about it is how it borders the zone we’re in. The cliff we stand atop is maybe two thousand feet above the swamp. But the plains run right up to the clifftop, and at the bottom of it, the landscape is so different that it screw with my brain. There’s no way two biomes like these should be so close together.

  I take a long breath before turning to Syl. “Well, like Mika said. It’s a videogame.”

  “A poorly designed one,” she responds, frowning.

  “No argument here.” I reach back, making sure my single belonging is secured to my belt as I lean over the cliff to check out our descent. The road ends abruptly, but just below is a tiny switchback path that zigzags back and forth until it disappears into the mist below. “Speaking of which…”

  Syl’s claws spear the ground as she leans a lot further than I did. She grunts in irritation. “As I said, poorly designed. What is the point of this?”

  “Challenge, I guess? It comes in a lot of ways. Monsters, bosses, and even the landscape.” A wave of vertigo hits me and I have to take a step back from the edge. The swamp stretches as far as the eye can see, and somehow the drop is a lot more terrifying when I can’t see the bottom. Even knowing I’m in a game, it feels real and deadly. “We’ve come a long way since bottomless pits and spike traps.”

  “Spike traps?” Syl pauses, considering. “That sounds exhilarating.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?”

  Syl turns, face serious. “Yes, Sam.” She eyes me, and there’s something in her gaze that raises animal instinct in my brain. The feel of being hunted. “The challenges you describe sound worthy of conquering with you.” Her grin reveals sharp little teeth. “After, we would mate to celebrate our victory.”

  She stands at the edge of the cliff, back to the abyss, unafraid. Her scales glitter in the sunlight and her light blue hair feathers her brow in the soft breeze. Her large eyes take me in, unwavering, unblinking, and suddenly I’m drowning in memory; the taste of her alien pussy, rough against my tongue; her tongue ringing my
cock, so long and so wet; sinking into her impossibly tight pussy, working for every inch as her walls milked me…

  My throat is tight, but not as much as my pants, and Syl clearly doesn’t miss it. I return the favor, letting my eyes roam her alien geography. “I’m not sure we should wait until after all the conquering.”

  She smiles sadly before turning away, and like that, the moment’s passed. “I… I am sorry I mentioned it. We must complete this contract so we… You…” She trails off, not finishing.

  There’s something so disarming about her uncertainty, something that makes me love her more even if she is thinking about leaving us. Her vulnerability makes her so much more… Approachable. She’s not just an unstoppable killing machine… There’s a person under her impervious shell.

  It just takes some digging to find it.

  Without thinking, I cross the distance between us. She’s turned back to the cliff, now, so I hold her from behind. My arms cross around her trim shoulders and I rest my hands flat against the top of her chest. Her scales are so perfect, warm and rough and strangely soft. Snakelike. “I am so happy you’re with me, Syl,” I whisper into her ear.

  Her hands come up slowly, almost hesitantly. “Sam… I…” She rests them over mine.

  “No, don’t say anything. Not right now. I just… Needed you to know that.” I don’t say more, not yet. She’s so pragmatic, such a creature of pure intent… I have a feeling words won’t sway whatever she’s thinking of doing.

  But maybe I can give her pause.

  I kiss her just behind the ear, letting my lips linger. Her whole body goes taut at the soft brush, and her hands grip mine so hard it hurts. But I don’t move, don’t let her know… I just hold her close a moment before pulling away. “You know, this is the first time we’ve been alone together.”

  She doesn’t turn her head. My words paint her ear with warm breath, and she shivers. “Is that… Bad? Do you wish that perhaps Mika…”?

  I squeeze her tighter. “What about what I’m doing right now would make you think that?” I release, turning her back to me. “We need more of this. Much more.”