Aspirant: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure

by Whittaker, Maxx

  “Great. Here’s hoping.” I follow her gaze. “What’s the plan?”

  She indicates a thick branch high above us, unique in that most of the trees around us don’t have anything but fronds.

  “Okay. Uh… How?”

  Syl crouches. “It will be faster and easier to act. When I fall, be ready.” Her scales flush dark. “You will see.”

  And then she leaps. Her jump is impossibly high, at least twenty feet. We gasp as she sails upward, and at the apex of her leap, her tongue whips out, stretching further than I feel like should be possible. It erupts upward, barely clearing the branch, and then wraps around it.

  “Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Mika says.

  I don’t answer, just scramble to get under Syl, who plummets like a stone. She slows as she comes, but it’s not going to be enough, and the branch’s resistance is going to stop her well clear of the ground.

  But I’m starting to see what she intended. When she’s close, she somehow manages to yell “Now!”

  I’m already jumping as high as I can, which is considerably higher than it used to be with my “upgrades.” It’s still not even close to Syl’s height, but it’s enough. I stretch, just manage to grasp her ankles as she comes into range. Her scaling gives me extra grip, which is good, because I barely get my fingers around her.

  My extra weight pulls her further down, and we slowly lower until my feet hit the ground. “Okay,” I grunt, straining to hold her as the branch creaks alarmingly overhead. “What now?”

  “Pull…” Syl manages. “Hurry… Hurts…”

  I don’t think, don’t take time to wonder what the hell she’s thinking. I do as she says, pull, though I can’t get good leverage until Mika wraps me with her functioning arm. Together, we stretch Syl as far back as we can, until she moans at the strain. Her muscles ripple, stretched taut, and her tongue vibrates with effort. My sweat slick hands start to slide on her smooth scaling, and I grip tighter. It feels like my biceps are about to burst.

  “Now?” I gasp.

  “Little… More…”

  “Sam, the scaag!” Mika’s voice is half panicked at my ear. “They’re moving!” I heave one last time, sure the branch is about to snap, or that Syl’s tongue can’t take the strain and she’s about to come hurtling at us like a ballista bolt. Her scales glitter in a ray of sunlight, fading from black to her natural colors. “Her armor’s failing. We have to let her go!”

  “Syl?”

  The noise that she makes sounds… Bad. But something in her changes, readies. “Let go!” She shouts.

  I do.

  The branch snaps away, whipping Syl upward like a comet. I can’t believe her tongue doesn’t rip from her throat at the violence of it, but she hangs on tight, covers the twenty-five feet to her destination in a heartbeat. Shit. She’s flying straight at the still violently swinging wood, and if it hits her, bats her to the ground… It’ll snap her in half.

  But no. Somehow, impossibly, she twists in the air and turns her body so she’s flying feet first toward the branch. When she hits it, she momentarily arrests her momentum, just the slightest bit with her feet, then grasps it with her hands in the blink of an eye. With another powerful pump of her arms, she pulls herself up and past the branch, releasing her grip with her tongue.

  And up she goes, the combined force of her tongue and sending her hurtling above the treetops.

  “Holy fucking shit,” Mika breathes, awed.

  I snag my rifle from the ground. “We good?”

  “Yeah, we’re… Shit!” Mika spins in place. “They’re coming! Using the distraction…”

  “Where?”

  “Everywhere!”

  I turn, fire blindly at the closest tree line, hoping to scare whatever’s coming into backing off. Trees explode into splinters, and at least six scaag simply vaporize.

  From far above, something impacts the top of one of the trees, Syl returning to terra firma. Hopefully she doesn’t take long coming back to us, because judging by Mika’s panicked “look out!” , our visit to her home world is about to be short lived.

  She smacks her lance out, it’s tip molten red, and a scaag appears, bursts into flame. It caromes sideways, bowling over one of its companions, who only appears when the liquid fire spreads from fur to fur.

  I turn, try to fire, but my rifle still isn’t charged. “Fu –” Something bashes into me with the force of a boulder, and I tumble across the clearing, crumpling against a huge tree trunk as I come to a stop. “–uuuuck,” I moan, scrambling away and trying to stand. Is it one of the poisoned trees?

  Nope. There’s no burn, no numbness. I’m not pinned like a bug, thank God. Dodged a bullet again.

  Not that I feel that lucky. I stand, barely. If not for my new gifts, and the “armor” I’m wearing, that would have broken every bone in my body. As it is, it just feels like I’ve been run over by a semi.

  But I can’t dwell on the pain. Must keep moving. I lurch across the clearing, thanking the Citadel gods that my rifle came with a strap. Mika’s spinning in a wild circle, her staff extended, trying to fend off enemies I still can’t see. I watch the grass, but everything’s so trampled that it’s not helping. It doesn’t matter. I can’t fire, not with her in the way.

  But wait. I can see one of the scaag. A huge fucker built like Andre the Giant. It lumbers forward from the tree line, a wicked splinter the size of my forearm jutting from its back. The end is singed, still glowing. What the hell?

  My shot. When I detonated the trees.

  Shrapnel.

  “Mika, duck! Low! ”

  She does, flattening instantly. Apparently, a day of almost dying over and over is enough to heighten your battle instincts enough that you just react, and thank fuck for that. I’m far enough away from her that I hope this works, doesn’t kill us both. But there’s no sign of Syl, and I have to try something.

  Once again, I leap straight upward. Something brushes my heel, powerful fingers, invisible. Grasping for me as I leap six feet straight upward.

  Not today.

  I fire straight downward.

  The eruption of power from my rifle throws me up and away like a ragdoll. It pulverizes the forest floor, instantly lighting bits of brush and foliage aflame and liquefying the scaag that tried to grasp me moments ago. The explosion of force rips a hole in the ground, and, most importantly, sends a ring of stone and dirt flying like little bullets in a perfect circle.

  Stone and dirt that smashes into everything living. Mika cries out as a pebble skips across her back, opening a tiny slice in her skin. It flies like a bullet and should have hurt her far worse.

  Thank you for the armor, Astra.

  The scaag aren’t so lucky. They take the brunt of the shrapnel, winking into existence like wraiths as they’re peppered with miniature flying missiles. They howl, scream in agony and frustration, clawing at pieces that stick in their flesh or wipe eyes blinded by dust.

  I land just as Syl does. She falls from a tree with a lot more grace than I can muster as I slam flat on my ass.

  It doesn’t matter. We can see them, now.

  Mika rises, and the three of us grin at each other.

  Time to go to work.

  I can’t fire another shotgun blast, not this soon, but I don’t need to. I flip modes, fire three pinpoint shots as fast as I can pull the trigger. Three scaag heads burst like ripe melons. Nearby, Syl slips between hulking bodies, opening bellies with quick slices of her claws. She cackles with almost disturbing glee as they try to keep their entrails inside and stumble back into the forest. Mika looks a bit crazed, eyes wide and teeth bared, as she swings Inferno like a club, and everything it hits explodes into flame.

  It takes less than a minute for us to scatter them. The clearing is a mass of flaming bodies, blood, and moaning scaag. All dead or fleeing.

  Except Andre. The huge bastard from before. He rises on shaking legs, a club the size of my torso in one hand. He’s only a few feet Mika, and he swin
gs down at her head, bellowing.

  Her back is turned. No time to shout a warning. Syl and I are too far away to help.

  No! I don’t know where it comes from, what it is. The word rings in my head like a bell, thunderous. I fling my hands forward, and from them something explodes. Power that erupts from my core, from some secret place I didn’t know existed until this moment.

  Something new.

  Andre’s side shreds like it’s been through a thresher, flayed into a welter of blood and torn flesh. He’s flung away like he’s been punched by a god, smashing into one of the trees with such force that his insides vaporize and blood erupts from his mouth like a geyser.

  His broken form falls to the forest floor as I fall to my knees, all strength draining from me like water through a sieve. I hold up my shaking hands, eyes wide.

  Mika falls next to me, arm around my neck. “Sam!” she shouts, and it sounds like it comes from far away. Her words are muted, like I’m underwater. “Sam!”

  Syl kneels before me, eyes narrowed. She reaches forward, runs a finger under my nose. When she pulls away, it’s covered in blood.

  Mika shakes me, tears running down her face. “Sam, please…” Her words are clearer, as is my head. The world rushes back in like I’m surfacing from the deep and my head clears. I ache everywhere, and I want to vomit as my vision and hearing normalize.

  “Shit,” I manage. “That sucked .”

  Mika laugh is panic tinged. “Are you okay? What was that?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, rising with both of their aid. “Something the Citadel put in me? Some power?” I cough, and a misting of blood coats my upraised hand. “Damn. That hurt. Like drinking a gallon of whiskey and then sobering up in ten seconds.”

  Syl steps back, eyeing me speculatively. “Mika, before you died, could you see invisible objects?”

  Mika blinks, surprised by the question. “Well, no…” She says. “I mean, I’d argue that it’s a silly question, that of course I couldn’t… But when I died, I ended up in the world’s worst scariest video game, so who the hell knows what’s normal anymore?” When she’s sure I can stand on shaking legs, she takes her arm from me, but only long enough to trail her fingers down my bare arm until they’re twined with mine. “But no, to answer your question… No.”

  “Interesting.” Syl flicks her tongue out, licks my blood from her finger. She swallows it, then half closes her eyes, shudders. “Delicious. The lifeblood of a warrior.”

  “Uh, what’s interesting?” I ask, a little freaked.

  Syl smiles. “I have also been granted a boon since coming here. Beyond strength and speed, I have noticed that my awareness, my perception of the world has increased. I am aware of things I should not be, such as small movements nearby, or the presence of the branch from before.”

  “The branch? I thought you just ran a random direction, hoped there was something suitable nearby.”

  “No,” she says. “I knew it was there.”

  “And you,” Mika says, tightening her grip. “That was some science fiction shit back there. Telekinesis. I’m going to have to start calling you Eleven.”

  I laugh. “I love that show.” A thought pops into my head, unbidden, a piece clicking into place. “Wait, wait. This place, it… Knows about us. Our preferences, our favorite foods, the things we’re afraid of… Everything from that first dungeon cell to this forest to the sushi and pizza in the respite area…”

  “Drawn from our minds,” Mika says, understanding immediately. Of course.

  “Even before Eleven, one of my favorite superheroes was Jean Grey,” I say. “I had a bit of a crush on her when I was young.” I bridge Mika’s lips with a finger. “Yeah, yeah. Nerdy. I’m a hypocrite, so what? Anyway, even long after I stopped reading comics, I always thought the idea of telekinesis, of changing the world with my mind… Such an awesome concept. You can guess what superpower I always chose when someone asked me which one I’d pick.”

  “And my power? Seeing invisible runes? Terrifying ape men?”

  I wipe away blood with my forearm, wince at a lovely new headache. “You’re technically minded. Analytical. And brilliant.” I tap my forehead. “Only natural that you’d gain some kind of ability related to that.”

  “Hmm. Maybe. Syl?”

  She’s been standing, watching us and considering as we’ve talked. She bends, lifts a handful of dark soil in her long fingers, palms it and lets it fall. “Perhaps… War and battle are natural to my people. When I died… As I said, it was treachery. An ambush my unit did not anticipate. I have spent much time since I’ve been brought to this place considering my failure, my dishonor. If I’d detected the enemy sooner, know they laid in wait…” She lets the last of the dirt fall, balls her fist. “They would have died.”

  She glances up at us warily. There’s something in her alien features I can’t decipher.

  I sigh. So much to unpack, and time is running. 01:18:51

  “Syl,” Mika says, rubbing her useless arm. “Did you see anything when you went for your flying lesson? Anything useful?”

  “Flying lesson?”

  “Falling… With style,” I prompt, elbowing Mika.

  Syl gives us both a look like we’re crazy, then shrugs. “Yes. It appears the Citadel has a plan for us, after all. We are perhaps three minutes from the forest’s northern edge. If we run, we can make it faster. One of my people’s outposts is there. They will help us. Provide us with shelter, food.”

  I want to tell her that her plan sounds great, aside from the fact that this isn’t really her home world and that there’s no way to tell how the Citadel wants to fuck with us, but I don’t have a better idea.

  When we don’t answer, Syl shrugs. “In any case, we will be safe, have enough time to plan our next move.”

  Something about the relief in her voice gives me pause. “Syl, they’re your people, yes. But all this, the forest, them… It’s all fake. A simulation.”

  Once again, I can’t decipher the look she gives me. “They will help us,” is all she says.

  Mika purses her lips, opens her mouth to argue. I toss her a look that I hope says we’ll figure this out later . We don’t know Syl well enough to know what the hell her issue is, but we don’t have time for a psychological deep dive right now. “Lead on.”

  The fingers in mine are limp for just a moment, considering. Then, a tight squeeze. I trust you.

  We follow Syl through the forest, hand in hand, unwilling to release our grip on each other even when it’s inconvenient. Syl is quicksilver ahead of us, slipping between trees and, once again, avoiding some bushes and pushing through others. The scaag are long gone, and the only hooting we hear is distant. From every direction, but faraway.

  Now that I’m not shitting my pants in fear of death, thirst returns full force.

  “Goddamn, I’d kill for a diet coke right now,” Mika gasps.

  “There you go, being creepy and telepathic again.”

  “Hey, I’m not the one with powers, buddy.” She steps over a thick root that writhes with sap. “Anyway, what’s your poison?”

  “I don’t see how this is helpful, but fine. Gimme an iced coffee.” I lick my lips at the thought of it. “Amaretto with a dollop of heavy cream.”

  “Fancy,” Mika laughs.

  “Yeah, well. I like good coffee and good whiskey,” I say. “Nothing wrong with treatin’ yo self.”

  “We have to stop talking about this. I’m so thirsty that for the first time in recent memory, I want something more than I want you. ”

  I stumble on a rock.

  After five minutes that feels like an hour, Syl stops, hand up. And that’s when I hear it… In the distance ahead of us, hooting. Guttural, rage filled. And something else. Something terrifying. “What is that?”

  “We are approaching the edge of the forest. Stay low, follow me, make no sudden moves.”

  I can’t help but notice that she didn't answer my question. Again. But she’s already m
oving, crouched, creeping forward. The scaag are above us now, what sounds like hundreds of them, but none descend upon us to attack. Like they’re ignoring us.

  It doesn’t take long to discover why, and why Syl didn’t answer me. Seeing is far more effective than being told.

  The tree line stretches from side to side, a cut so clean it can’t be natural. Cleared by the Threvians, I assume, based on the fact that their “outpost” sits across a long killing field that stretches from the jungle to walls that tower at least thirty feet high.

  Perched atop the wall are the source of the second, scarier, sounds we’ve heard for the last few minutes. Energy cannons like something out of Star Wars perch like deadly gargoyles atop the outpost’s walls, turning and pivoting with such precise little movements that they must be computer controlled. When they stop, they fire; pulses of energy as thin as my finger, blinding lances of terrible power.

  What are they shooting at? I crane my neck, wide eyed.

  The scaag. For some reason, they’re not invisible, now. Maybe because this isn’t part of our challenge? They pour from the trees, using high branches to propel themselves like stones out into the killing field where they lumber forward, roaring and charging the outpost.

  None of them make it more than halfway before a spear of light lances through their brains. They fall like tossed boulders, digging furrows in the loose red soil.

  “Is this…” Mika swallows. “Is this what it’s like, on your home world?”

  “It was, once,” Syl says, rising. “Now? We do not know.” I want to grab her and pull her back down; those guns don’t seem like they’d have a problem firing this far. Maybe why none of the scaag linger at ground level. “I have never seen it. As I said, I have never been to the home world. But I have experienced it through virtual simulation. Manned walls like these during my training.” She turns, impassive, stares as the beams fill the air with light and the smell of burning ozone. “The scaag are mindless, driven mad by the forest. They breed endlessly, attack endlessly. There are great cities, north of here, and outposts like this one would keep them at bay, keep their numbers manageable.”