by Marcus Sloss
“First, leave these lovely pink locks alone. I am going to miss the hair dye. My blonde roots are already coming in. Second, the crixxi lesson is that everything has a counter,” Willow said while escaping my grasp.
“Well, you can adjust with enough layers of defense to counter every type of attack. I guess bombardment from outer space does not count, since the mothership controls the space above our atmosphere,” Nancy said with a finger wag that pointed up.
I was about to reply when Dedric interrupted. “Mitchell is coming back with Bonnie and some food. Yeah, brunch!”
My tummy rumbled in agreement. The RV slowed before stopping. I exited the side door to see the afternoon sun casting a high shadow over the tall Xgate. The shuffling of vehicles continued around our stopped RV. The whine from the electric motors was minimal compared to the sound of the run-flat tires crunching over the loose, rocky terrain. We had entered a tree-free area of rolling monotonous hills. Large bushes and small trees were crumpled under tires as our vehicle armada kept pace with the floating Xgate. Mitchell arrived with Bonnie in the shiny steel-alloy truck.
They exited with meat on a stick, times ten. The majority of the meat smelled like steak. It certainly looked like chunks of bovine. The tips of the stick were little chunks of white fluffy meat. Oh! Squid. I hastily accepted the stick.
“Yum! This squid is divine. Oh, the yexin is fantastic too,” I blurted while savoring the flavor. My taste buds may have been screwed by eating nasty-tasting gargoyle a lot recently.
“We have a whole leg uncooked heading back to base. Should make for a fantastic cookout on this warm spring day,” Mitchell said. He handed me additional meat sticks to pass into the cabin. The ladies handed out the extras. “I want to go bury Paul and recover his gear now that we’ve entered a pause in activity. Me and the team. I would like a truck with a trailer so I can bury him with the others.”
“Granted. If you want to mourn for a few days, let me know. We should have this battle in hand. I do not think the squibbles are hankering to fight to get home. I bet they wait until we hopefully disappear,” I said with a grimace. I hated losing soldiers; it was a terrible thing. There was little to do besides move on. “I am sorry for your loss, Mitchell. For the community.”
“For the community. Bonnie did great. She was nervous at first but picked it up just fine. Only screamed once when her drones started getting shot out of the sky,” Mitchell said while heading back for his driver’s seat. “See you later, Cap.”
“Thanks, I appreciate the hard work. And again, sorry for your loss, Mitchell.” I waved to him and Eilfer, who was in the passenger seat.
I continued to gnaw on the yummy food while heading into the RV. I bolted the door closed before sliding into the booth. An alert hit my Gpad.
“Stronghold Mansion has gone through some recent changes. We may start a daily update briefing to help alleviate concerns or issues in the community. The virum is on everyone’s minds. Included in this message is a file on everything we know concerning our new friends. Some ladies absolutely do not want to birth or raise more children. Some will help raise but do not want more children of their own. There are measures we can use to help prevent unwanted pregnancies.
With that said, this is our only allowable method of birth control at the moment. The ability to kill the unborn, even in the egg stage, does not exist without fighting the virum, which we are not able to do yet. Or may never do. So, ladies and gentlemen, resist your urges until you are prepared for the consequences. If you do wish to use ‘stone control’ as it is being termed, please head to the third-floor suite in the mansion. It is being set up as a procedure room for now. We have one successful case of implantation of stone control. The patient is doing well with decreased urges. If you can resist and want to wait to see the results in a few days or weeks, we understand.
“Next topic. All personnel will have an assigned workgroup. Now that we only have the need for three or four hours of rest, we are going to assign two seven-hour shifts with two three-hour breaks and one four-hour sleep cycle. The goal here is to break up monotony. Let those watching the gate, raid. Or those watching the kids, build. The intent is to make it fair, while at the same time improving our community.
“We need drone operators and data analyzers as priority. If you have any data analytic skills, please see Duke Harvard or someone on his S2 team. If you can play a video game, you can fly a drone. Please know, drone operators are frontline troops. Please see Duchess Peterson or someone on the recon team if interested.
“There are a few officer-slash-noble vacancies. We need a defense officer to help maintain our base layout and adjust for gaps. We need an animal manager to oversee our growing herds. We need a mining officer to ramp up future production. If you are a geologist or understand minerals, please reach out. Expect to hear of promotions to aid Earl Gary and his building teams. We’re also looking for a manager for the tavers.
“We have new citizens without Gpads. This may mean down the road we adopt a new system so we are fully integrated. At this time, we do not foresee the crixxi being able to return home. We ask that you treat the crixxi like any other citizen. They have pledged to help with childcare, work, and our military needs. They eat much the same things we do and will help our community grow. The crixxi are not used to hospitality and kindness, so let's show them some.
“Final note: The Aspen community helped kill a yexin today. We were given a chunk of meat to have a barbeque with. That will be held at the main dining building over the next hour. Thank you for your time.” - Queen Perci
I munched on a chunk of yexin while mulling over the message. It was certainly helpful to alleviate those with worries over a lack of information. I was waiting for negative feedback. My Saudi veterans were never able to hold back meaningful critique.
The Gpad alert I was ready for was sent from Harvard.
“Planet Jungle One. Over a hundred lurrol rolling golems are torching the forest. We sent drones above the canopy. It is not a jungle with strips of grazing lands and mountains on the horizon. The entire planet is a jungle. The canopy height varies from trees a hundred feet tall to four hundred feet. Even the rivers are covered under the dense foliage. The lurrol would need to spend a few hundred years to torch the entire planet. While the drone footage the Aspen team brought back was helpful, the data was inconclusive. There are no easy prey to hunt. The river is fast flowing, with the drones unable to do a mineral study. Minimal fruit near the forest floor would lead to lengthy retrieval times while exposed. Summary: The planet is literally too hot to handle. Recommendation: Avoid or, at most, send a small team to try for minerals. Denver seems wiser with less risk of being stranded by sudden fire aliens.”
I shut down the video.
Hmm… My grimace twisted as I realized we had three bad portals now. Technically four. There was no way I was raiding a superior foe of unknown capabilities. The forest would leave us too confined, and we sure as shit were not getting into a water fight. The best option was still to wait for the cooldown time and lock down the savannah.
My Gpad rang. The caller was Clive.
“Go ahead, Clive,” I said to our resident plumber.
“I finally have enough supplies to build a proper bathhouse. I was thinking of something communal they used back in the olden days. A ‘him and her’ section for cleaning. A private male tub, female tub, and then an adult mingle tub. Trust me, an indoor pool with a splash waterpark is on the docket of tasks planned for.
“For this project, I need a couple of things approved. Gary said he would have to halt construction on longhouse twenty-five to build the bathhouse. Even then, we might need to pilfer some of twenty-four,” Clive said with a frown of disapproval.
“Clive, people love to be able to bathe, shower, and pee. As of today, we sleep less. So build the bathhouse. Any other issues?”
“Umm… The crlixxa,” Clive said, butchering the name I created.
I flashed him a toothy sm
ile. “Crixxi.”
“Yeah, the well-proportioned cat-humans. The crixxi. Good, I got it now. They want to help. They are saying we should pump the waste under the gate and down the side of the mountain. They also said we should shift the main pump drain there too. Apparently, shit in water systems leads to long-term issues upstream,” Clive said with a shrug. “I am not an environmentalist. I do plumbing. When I asked Perci, she asked some fellow who was a lawyer. He said dump the sewage towards Denver down the mountain. I am fine with doing that, but I need to shut down the pump for a few hours once I have all the lines run. Which requires the boss’s approval.”
“A few hours to divert long-term problems is fine by me. Did you get a drone to study your drop point? Are we avoiding one issue to create another? I guess that is what I am asking.”
“Yes, sir! We are ready to convert a rocky slope into a shitty rocky slope.”
“Consider your request approved. And Clive, if you need additional resources, consider those approved. A bathhouse will be a great morale boost. Cap out.”
I closed the connection. Willow leaned on my left side and Nancy on my right. I wrapped arms over both their shoulders. The girls snuggled into me. I relaxed while watching the video screen. Dedric was drifting the RV with the small army of vehicles. The drone operators were in the back room with goggles on. Five minutes of quiet became ten.
I felt a roaming hand undo my fatigue buttons over my crotch. My cock was pulled out of the seam. Willow’s right hand started a slow, tight stroke. Nancy caught the motion with her eye. She exclaimed with a soft moan.
“I’ll catch this one, you get next,” Nancy said seductively.
Willow bit her lip in desire while stroking my stiffening cock. I think the girls were getting off on the fact there were others around. I nibbled on Willow’s ear teasing her. Her left hand slid under her beltline. Her fingers were extracted with a glistening sheen that she applied to my bulging cock.
“Yummy,” Nancy said with a very quiet moan.
With her ass still in the booth she ducked under the table. My cock was engulfed by her big, puckered lips. Her tongue twirled the base of my cock for that sweet pleasure spot. Willow’s hand kept pumping while Nancy worked her magic. The dynamic duo brought me to a spurting climax less than five minutes later. Nancy gagged and coughed. I shot my load so deep into her throat her eyes watered. Jizz dripped from her mouth until she got it under control. A greedy lick of her lips and all the evidence was swallowed with a delightful giggle.
Willow tucked my cock away while fixing my buttons. Well, that was fun. I was mildly amused when the radio crackled the moment the last button was fixed.
“Aspen for Mansion,” Reinhardt said over the radio.
“Go.”
“Bored yet?”
I chuckled. Then I frowned. I would have Harvard sweep RV3 for bugs. The timing could be more than coincidence.
“We could be raiding Denver, but then again this score will be far grander in keeping our current supplies from being consumed. We are adding a bathhouse. Going to stop polluting our local water too,” I said proudly, giving up minor details.
“The Aspen plumbers are fixing our sewer issues as well. They are just pumping at the backup spot. I think the planned exit point is some tree area to the south. I approved it because the experts recommended the spot,” Reinhardt said with a bored tone. “You mind if I do another recon on Savannah One? No killing, recon only. I got the water drones with operators finally ready.”
“Hell yes. I was getting antsy with how quiet it is over there. Cap out,” I said, and Nancy snickered.
“Liar. And Willow,” Nancy said, stroking the back of her hand down Willow’s face. She whispered softly, “Cum takes like cake now. Vanilla-frosted cake!”
∞∞∞
Nine boring hours later, the radio crackled. “Fifteen minutes, give or take,” Reinhardt said. I had no reply. The man was using me to ease his boredom. “Those tavers. The chair-crafting oddities in your lake. Can we get the next community add-on creature? If we are doing a fair split.”
I knew what he was after. The recon video from his team had revealed a tamed creature not too different than the mozala. The savannah ones burrowed and were more like a monkey mixed with a gopher. The adventuring team had lured some home with a stolen oat bale that a conveyor belt plopped out of the ground. The gropkeys were all the craze. Even Perci was being pestered by parents wanting us to bring some home. Norm said they would be great for tilling dirt, but horrible for long-term planting. He went on and on about how our fields already needed fencing. That was enough for me to easily pass on them.
“I guess. You did buy us lunch. Even if you did wreck a truck in haste. Hell, a solid yes,” I said in an overly happy tone. “Especially since you are going to be doing all the hard work during our mission.”
“I can see you rolling your eyes through the radio. The drone team spotted an entry point to the conveyor belt system. Look, we’re two different strongholds. I fled to Aspen with tanks and up-armored trucks. Only a company of troops without families nearby, they were all I was willing to rip out of the base. Those troops and their converted civilians are in need of actual combat. Something your men have spades of. Plus, we have more vehicles, making our role logical.”
“I get it, the plan is solid. Who knows, you may dent another truck!” I said, chuckling. “In all actuality, we bought the shield generators for our infantry. I have not seen any of your troops wearing the same thing. I will clear the turrets personally. Even put the feed on display.”
“How noble of you, your grace,” Reinhardt said dryly.
We had been trading friendly barbs like this for hours ever since Harvard sent out the latest Savannah One report. The water drones found trails from the ocean. A lot of trails indented where the hard dirt met the sand. In the deep waters where the bottom was disturbed, less additional trails were found. The reconnaissance into the depths revealed very little. There was minimal sea life, and the salt content was lower than on Earth. The aquatic cities the squibbles came from were beyond where the drones could travel.
This sparked a debate that lasted for hours. Both Aspen and Mansion were located forty-five minutes to an hour’s drive away from our Xgate. We theory-crafted that a stronghold or city too close to an Xgate was doomed to fall. There was the counterargument that a closer base would allow for easier raiding. The concept fell flat when considering a throwaway outpost. The winning argument for giving the Xgate space was that you could not get trapped on your own planet as easily as on a foreign planet. A prime example of why you did not want to live near an Xgate was our crixxi. They had their tree outpost defeated in minutes by a counter force. If they had lived an hour away; that would have given them far more time to adjust, which led back to why we could not find the squibble cities. They were probably on an island hours away or in the depths of the ocean beyond drone limits. To me, that was great for raiding those animals on the land. Any reaction force would probably arrive long after we were gone. Just like if an elk herd walked to our Xgate. We could not defend it quickly if we were in our strongholds.
Reinhardt was worried that we should rapidly focus on the animals in fear of retribution from the squibble cities. I argued against sending all our forces to herding because of what the aerial drones discovered. The bunker entrance had active turrets on it. Reinhardt’s team lost a drone getting the footage when they suddenly swiveled and fired.
We finally were able to understand why these animals were here too. A farming outpost had been smashed to rubble, the remains scattered an hour to the north. The animal farms went for hundreds of miles in all directions. There was far more livestock with auto feeders than we could handle. Our best guess was that this planet was a recent addition to the network. The squibbles bought some new tech and were feeling the god mode. The on-land species was raided and probably enslaved. The animals being out in the open, ripe for the picking with self-sustainment, made little other sense.<
br />
We had debated the what-ifs to a point I stopped caring. All that mattered was getting that gate locked down and capitalizing on as much loot as we could. Speaking of making the most of a situation… I keyed up the Aspen mic.
“I got a trade proposal for you,” I said, and Reinhardt waited to hear what I had to say. I winked at Willow, who was eyeing me like a delicious snack. “Your scientists. They can visit to study the tavers, or you allow a few folks a night to come get some virum, in exchange for any half of the homes in your area.”
“If you are looking for copper, electrical, and those good items, nope. We stripped all that.”
“Yeah, but do you need the tile, roofing, framing, and all the building materials?” I asked, getting to the point.
“Besides our exterior walls blocking entrance points, we are good. We have everything a premium sky resort has to offer. Honestly, we are building our gates with steel, anyway. Wood is far too susceptible to fire. Those hesco barriers would be amazing. But…”
“I have like eight spare. Not tugging your leg on that one,” I said, knowing he probably had spies in my stronghold.
“Yeah, those would help us hold our gates until we can put up something better. Or pour them with concrete—”
“You have a mixer, don’t you?” I couldn’t stop myself from blurting my conclusion.
“Well, yes. There should be plenty in Denver. Eight hesco barriers, two field scientists, and five civilians a day. They will be assigned work details of building or something basic. No shitty details unless they want it. In exchange, every morning when I swap out my teams, I bring you construction junk for your medieval stronghold.”
I could hear him chuckling through the mic. Eventually he released the detent. He had a point, even if it did sour Nancy’s face. Our home was our home. I let the comment slide because it truly was trivial and made in jest.
“Deal.”
“Alright, the squibbles look to be getting ready. I have a team on the north gate ready to lock it down. They are already smacking the button,” Reinhardt said.
