Aspirant 2: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure

by Maxx Whittaker

  Finally, Jacinta breaks the brittle silence. “Hey, screw this killjoy.” She leans over to the quarterdeck, dark braid swinging like a rope. “Graham!” she shouts. “Break out the good shit! Pour for everyone!”

  An exhausted cheer raises from the men below.

  She motions to us. “Join me in the captain’s cabin? I keep the best stuff in there. I think we all deserve a drink.”

  The tension deflates. I exhale and put my arms around Mika and Astra to drag them along. “Hell yes.”

  The fight may not be over, but it’s over today.

  23

  The Ezio

  The Forgotten Steppe

  Player: Sam

  Level 11

  A heavy tankard of wild berry ale sits heavy in my hand as I exit the captain’s quarters in a cloud of pipe smoke and the scent of heavy drinking. I weave my way around a few sailors that give me respectful dude nods, searching the half-lit deck.

  Where is she?

  The electric lights buzz like beehives as I carefully make my way past them; I’ve had enough to drink that I’m definitely feeling it, but not enough to get proper toasted. It’s not that I don’t feel safe… We’re so high above Lifestream that a blanket of clouds stretches below us like a quilt that covers the world, and it’s impossible to imagine someone finding us up here. Jacinta assured us that one of the little tidbits she’d built into the ship was anti-tracking spells, and that without some way to link to an individual onboard no one below will be able to pinpoint our location.

  All of it adds up to us feeling the safest we have in a long time. Jacinta’s wonderful company, and though she let us know in no uncertain terms that we’d have to resupply sooner rather than later, she shares what she has freely. What she has is mostly cheap food and expensive alcohol, but that’s fine with me.

  I’m tempted to take a sip of the ale. It’s delicious, bubblier than any beer from Earth with a complex sweetness tempered by enough alcohol that just a few of them would knock me on my ass.

  But no. This one isn’t for me.

  I finally spot my quarry near the front of the ship. The prow? The rich brown wood curves forward like hands brought together in prayer, and some kind of gorgeous masthead perches ahead of that. I can’t make out what it is in the dark, but judging by the gorgeously carved ass and the delicate wings, it’s some kind of nude siren or mermaid or something.

  Dusk stands off to one side of it, motionless. She stares ahead as the constant wind blows her mane of flaxen hair behind her. She’s untied her twin tails for the first time I can remember, which I hope is a good sign. The long curves of her body, hugged tight by her black leather, are bent slightly toward me as she leans her elbows on the deck. Her hands are clasped together so tight that her knuckles are white.

  I settle next to her, and though I made plenty of noise approaching, she doesn’t react. Doesn’t move. Her eyes are open, wide, watching the world stretch below us. Through holes in the cloud cover, various biomes peek like exotic worlds. Jacinta told us that it’d take over a week to reach the northern part of Lifestream, and that there were hundreds of biomes and dozens of cities like Acheryx, if smaller. The size of the manufactured world is staggering, but it makes sense when I think about it. Instead of ten thousand players in a game like World of Warcraft, Lifestream has room of hundreds of thousands of players. Millions, even… The remainder of humanity, if they choose to log in.

  I lean next to Dusk, close enough to hear her soft breathing but not close enough to touch. I know better by now.

  When it becomes painfully obvious that she’s content to pretend I don’t exist, I sigh. “Here. Brought this for you. Since you haven’t joined us yet,” I say, emphasizing the last word. I thunk the base of the ale against the rail, sloshing the tiniest bit out.

  She stands slowly, unfolding from the rail. Her delicate fingers brush mine as she takes the ale from me, the gentlest touch of warm skin against mine.

  A little smile plays across my lips as Dusk raises the ale…

  And dumps it over the side. She does it slowly, blue eyes locked on mine, and when the last drops fling into the night, she throws the tankard overboard.

  Dusk leans forward, so close I can feel her breath on my lips. “Let me make something clear right now. I am not on your team. I am not part of… Whatever sick arrangement you have with the others.” She pokes me in the chest and her fingertip is like a blade. “I am only here because I have nowhere else to go, and the moment I find a place that isn’t here, I’m gone.”

  “Tell me how you really feel,” I whisper, stung. After beating Embermane together, working so closely to overcome something so impossible… Even with her cynicism after, I’d hoped…

  I don’t know. That something had changed.

  Dusk’s eyes still hold the hurt I’d detected before, but it’s buried deep under the cauldron of rage and the disdain I’m so used to by now. “We are not friends. We are not comrades. We are nothing.” She turns to stalk off. “The sooner you figure that out, the better.”

  As her dark silhouette disappears behind a thick nest of metal cable that snakes up to the balloon, I call out one last time. “Why don’t you log off if you hate us so much?”

  Dusk stops, body jerking like she’s been slapped. For a moment, I think she’ll turn with some biting response, but after a frozen moment she hurries away.

  “Fine.” I lean back to the railing, burying my face in my hands. I never had illusions about her joining our little group, and the idea of her coming to care for us like we care for each other has never crossed my mind. But as an ally that travels with us? Helps us? I’d at least prayed that someone as powerful as her would stay and increase our odds of survival.

  I put her out of my mind and stare along the curve of Lifestream, mind blank for the first time in days. A guilty little twinge dances across my brain; I should be planning ahead. Should be thinking about our next move. I should be picking Jacinta’s head about anything she knows regarding the Threvian stronghold and the zones that surround it. Or maybe I should sit down with Mika and ask her what the hell happened on the estate when her eyes turned to blood.

  But I can’t think about any of that right now. I’m too goddamned tired.

  The girls wait for me back in the captain’s quarters, relaxed and a bit drunk. Aside from Syl, of course. Astra’d done something to herself that mimics drunkenness, and the effect was hilarious, especially when she’d dissolved in laughter after Mika’d observed that she’d reprogrammed herself to be a lush.

  I’ll go back to them in a moment.

  For now, I just want to exist.

  Mountains bigger than any on Earth jut far in the distance ahead of us, erupting from the planet like jagged teeth. I wonder what adventures they hold, what creatures and treasures and battles. For a moment, bitter jealousy claws its way into my heart; that life isn’t simple anymore. That I can’t forget about all this and that we can’t lose ourselves in that adventure.

  That I can’t protect those I love from what’s ahead.

  Suddenly, the deck jolts and drops from underneath my feet. For a moment, I’m floating, and then it settles and I have weight again. Wood groans underneath me as the ship repositions itself before pushing onward.

  What was that?

  I hold completely still, waiting for tragedy. For us to plummet from the sky or for a new attacker to zoom up from the clouds to make our life hell.

  But nothing happens.

  Just some turbulence.

  “Sam.”

  I’m not ashamed that I jump almost out of my skin. My heart pounds like a drum in my chest. “Syl. Someday you’re going to stop doing that.”

  “Apologies, Sam.” Her footfalls are utterly silent as she prowls across the deck. “I am never sure how to approach without that occurring.”

  I give her a crooked smile. “No worries. Maybe we should get you a little bell.”

  Syl frowns. “That would greatly reduce my tactical strength
in battle.”

  I reach forward and pull her close. “Oh, Syl. I love you.”

  Her slim arms wrap me, their scaled strength like bands around my chest. “That… is why I have sought you out, Sam.”

  Ah shit. There’s something in her voice, something familiar from before.

  When she tried to leave.

  I take a step back. “Syl?”

  “I have something I must tell you, Sam.”

  “You’re not leaving.”

  “Sam, I–”

  “Syl, we went over this. We can’t lose you.”

  “Sam!”

  “We can disguise you again if that’s what you’re worried about, or–”

  “Sam, please listen to me!” she shouts, gasping. Her huge eyes brim with tears as her whole body trembles.

  “Syl… What… What is it?” I’ve never seen her like this.

  “I do not know how to… To tell you…” Her fingers lace with mine and she pulls my hand low. She lays my palm flat against the warm scales of her belly.

  “Syl, what…” I ask, not comprehending. Not believing.

  “Sam.” She holds my hand tight against her and sucks in a steadying breath. “I am pregnant.”

  24

  Acheryx

  Madam Kara’s

  Player: Kara

  Level 41

  For the first time in her memory, Dibella’s forked tongue brings her no pleasure.

  Kara reclines on a chaise, watching the demon girl’s snakelike tongue as it parts the tight lips of her pussy. She works against her clit, and when Kara doesn’t respond as she always does, she pushes lower, sinking its long length in Kara’s warmth.

  It feels lovely, as it always does. But Kara isn’t in the mood, and no waves of pleasure radiate into her belly warning of oncoming climax.

  No. Right now, she feels nothing but rage.

  She lifts a nearby goblet and takes a long sip of bitter wine. “Enough,” she rasps as the last of it trickles down her throat. “Just… Just stop.”

  Dibella sits up, clasping her hands against her high, naked breasts. Her almond, upturned eyes widen as her lip quivers. “I am sorry, mistress. I can try harder, or we can–”

  Kara waves her hand, silencing her. A combination of guilt at taking out her frustration on the girl weaves with black rage that saps her patience at heaving to deal with hurt feelings. She takes a calming breath.

  If she didn’t have her self-control, what did she have?

  “It’s not you,” Kara says, resting a hand against Dibella’s soft thigh. Her red and black skin is mottled like some exotic snake, and her tender flesh is so very warm. Kara almost relents and takes the demon girl to bed before dismissing the idea. Not now. Not tonight.

  She gives Dibella a firm squeeze. “Later. I’m just not in the mood.”

  Dibella stands, bowing humbly. “I understand, mistress. It’s been a trying day.”

  “Yes. Go and eat. Find some sport with one of the others. Tell them not to trouble me for a while. I need time to think.”

  Dibella gives her another bow before turning to leave. Her long tail twitches above an ass tight enough that Kara can see her little pussy between long legs as the demon flows from the room like water. Kara’s blood heats as the door shuts; maybe in a few hours…

  “Thought she’d never leave,” a voice from the corner says sardonically.

  Kara sighs. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

  Seven strides across the room from the far corner. As always, Kara’s struck by her vanilla face and lack of makeup. Boring brown eyes see everything as she flows between tables and chairs. Her nondescript clothes and plain appearance clash with the opulence around her; she looks like a commoner that’s snuck into Versailles, but Kara doesn’t comment on it or even show annoyance.

  She’s used to it, by now. And Seven, for all her languid attitude, has a mean streak that Kara’s managed to avoid up til now.

  When Seven gets annoyed, people die.

  The plain woman adjusts her wakizashi before sitting on a bench across from Kara. The blade is like the woman’s movements; simple, precise, and deadly.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Kara asks, not bothering to close her robe. Her spread legs face the other woman, but Kara’s long past human modesty. She has been for a long time.

  Seven’s eyes don’t flick downward, don’t roam the landscape of Kara’s dark blue skin. Instead, she stares directly into Kara’s eyes, her smile amused. “Oh, I think you know.”

  Kara finally sits forward. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Don’t be tiresome. Your quarry’s escaped, and I’m sure you’re peeved, but that’s no reason to take it out on me.”

  Kara tenses. “Apologies, Seven.” She nods to the bar. “Would you like a drink?”

  “That would be lovely,” Seven says. Her body blurs away, and half second later she’s back in the same position with a glass of wine pinched delicately in one hand. The liquid inside is as placid as a mountain lake. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime,” Kara says, trying not to be intimidated by the others woman’s abilities. “To business?”

  “Not yet,” Seven says, taking a long sip of ruby liquid. “I’m expecting one more guest to our little party.”

  Kara’s expression darkens. “Not her. If that fool hadn’t let the boy escape, we’d–”

  An orange portal tears open across the room, and Avalon steps through. “My cheeks are burning,” she says as her armored boot presses into carpeting never meant to hold such weight. “What were you saying, dear?”

  She stands like a Valkyrie out of the old stories, her shining white plate reflecting every light in the room in a riot of color. Vanquish sits slung to her back, its blood red length pulsing with power. A hard but beautiful face that seems carved of a block of ivory is framed by long, midnight hair as she stares at Kara like the other woman’s an insect.

  Kara cocks her head. Something’s odd about the Obsidian leader. Her hair’s slightly disheveled, and her armor is tarnished by tiny cuts and a few errant smudges.

  It’s the first time Kara’s ever seen Avalon even slightly damaged.

  Interesting.

  Avalon notices her regard and sneers. “Keep staring, whore. See what happens.”

  Kara refuses to be intimidated by the Obsidian; their rivalry is long and filled with blood and fury, and in the game they play, weakness is death. “You let the boy escape.”

  “Correction,” Avalon says, one finger tapping the plate at her leg. “My subordinates did. They have since been dealt with, though not by me.”

  “Yes, Embermane,” Seven drawls. “That is a terrible loss for Obsidian.”

  “He had his uses, but I don’t regret his death.” Avalon’s long gait eats the distance to the other women in two strides. “He was a hotheaded idiot and got what he deserved for underestimating Warner. A mistake we will not repeat.”

  “We?” Kara sniffs. “Our partnership ended the moment that little shit stole my airship.” She sits forward, face a mask of hard lines. “I should have handled him myself. Should never have listened to you. Do you have any idea how much it cost me to keep Crimson Dawn sitting on their hands your little minions screwed it all up?”

  Avalon’s armor makes no sound as she crouches. “Perhaps you’d like to settle this somewhere more comfortable? She reaches up to stroke Vanquish’s length like a lover. “It’s been a long time since we tussled.”

  Kara’s hand ignites with black flame. “Love to.”

  “If you two would put your cocks away for five seconds,” Seven sighs, “we could move on to more important matters.”

  “Fine,” Kara says, lounging. “As long as you take this trash out with you when you leave.”

  Avalon’s face pinks. She’s not used to disrespect, a fact that Kara loves. It shouldn’t be this easy to provoke one of the most powerful people on the server whose name isn’t a number.

  “One more comment like that
,” Seven says, “and I’ll kill you myself and give Avalon your little kingdom on a platter.” Her voice is as calm as forest breeze, but Kara stills.

  “I’m sorry,” she grates.

  Seven nods. “Better. Now, as for our escaped quarry, we will find him. Trust me on that.”

  “But how?” Kara frowns. “With an airship, he could be anywhere in Lifestream by now. And with no way to track them…”

  Seven’s face splits in a slow smile. “I took the liberty of recovering the bodies left after the battle.” She nods to Avalon. “I’ve returned them to your people, but not before examining them. And I’ve found something I think you both may find interesting.

  “Oh?” Avalon clasps her hands. “Do tell.”

  “I apologize for the impromptu autopsy, but there was something odd about Embermane’s death. After cutting him open, I found this.” She holds her gloved hand out, opening fingers to reveal a silver blob of… Something.

  Avalon’s eyes narrow. “What is it?”

  “Kara knows,” Seven says cryptically.

  Kara’s breath quickens as the blob of silver rolls across Seven’s thick fingers. “It’s a homing beacon,” is all she says.

  Avalon doesn’t question how Kara knows what it is. She doesn’t press either of the other two women for more information. She just shrugs, her porcelain armor flowing over her shoulders like water. “Good,” she says simply.

  “I believe you had something new regarding the shadow creature, Avalon?”

  Kara perks. Rumors have been spreading like wildfire about something called the Shepherd, a beast of shadow not of Lifestream that had somehow found its way in game. The somehow turned out to be Sam Warner, though she was still fuzzy on the details. But they knew a few things; that whatever the Shepherd killed never respawned, that it seemed to unmake Lifestream as it pushed deeper toward Acheryx. There were even whispers that when its terrible blade of shadow cut into a person, they went into some kind of coma in the real world.

  That last one was likely bullshit.

  Though, stranger things had happened. Like the world being invaded by aliens.