Love Is Always Write Volume 4

already leaked, looking for battle with urgent need.
    They accepted with interested eyes, appraising exposed muscles between the open folds of his robe. They wore loose garments, easy to dispose, suggestively framing their hard-honed forms.
    Kekoa handed them their drinks and raised his. "A toast." He leered at them with mischievous enthusiasm. "To sated holes and dripping cocks."
    CHAPTER 2
    The head android entered his study with a soft knock on the door. "Master?"
    Kekoa turned from the painting he was creating to address it. "Yes?"
    "We have raised the levels of gas around the temples' area, but these foreigners are not suffering the effects yet."
    It had been four standard months since this excursion landed. Their excavations were reaching a critical place within the main temple complex, time for him to take matters into his own hands. Luckily, the exploration party only had three humans.
    "Get me the coordinates of the youngest of the group." By experience, younglings were more susceptible to so-called supernatural demonstrations. Impressionable would be a more accurate expression.
    Kekoa had only shown himself to the second human expedition. He couldn't believe this people insisted on digging on his planet. War destroyed his civilization; they vowed to avoid the annihilation of others unless a direct attack was issued.
    Releasing a toxin that would provoke disorientation and longing for the homeland was what they'd done countless times to get rid of this kind of pest. For some unknown reason, it wasn't working at all. He knew they used filtering masks, but it was nearly impossible to keep those devices on permanently. He would go crazy if he had to wear such a contraption all the time.
    "And prepare my armor; I'm going to the surface." He gave another brush to his masterpiece. At least he was in an excellent disposition. Tyke and Sun, his military, unofficial pets, had left the planet earlier that day.
    "Yes, master. The coordinates will be ready for you in the control room." The head android bowed and took his leave.
    These expeditions had never come heavily armed, proving they were here for scientific business only. However, his people had planted scrolls in an alternate language—not related directly to his civilization—with the sole purpose of alerting these invaders of a curse that was true … but not in the way described.
    Greed was the curse of my race.
    Close to extinction by their own insane quarrels, the remnants decided to start anew in a different location as far as possible from their birthplace. The oracles were consulted and a planet chosen, but they needed to leave behind a guardian for the sacred places. The knowledge preserved in these structures couldn't be destroyed without provoking the wrath of their deities. A two thousand year commission—more than three-quarters of their lifespan—was given to Kekoa's fifth great grandfather.
    It was his turn now to find his mate and have a child to be the guardian of the last vestige of their civilization on this planet. Another protector of secrets of unfathomable magnitude.
    He pondered his approach to the young explorer as his armor was assembled about him. The purpose of the device was not just defensive but also to scare with its inhuman morphology. Skull imagery always proclaimed disease and death, unless you were from the Ragnark system. Those wretches had their skulls visible since the moment they left their mothers' wombs.
    Not a pleasing sight at all.
    "Master, your target is located in sector ten, quadrant forty-eight."
    The expedition's routine separated the excavations into two groups. One led by two humans and their androids, and the other by the youngling and his own segment of mechanical helpers. Usually, they worked at opposite ends of the same quadrant, approximately fifty klicks away.
    Now it was time to give the little invader the fright of a lifetime.
    ****
    This effing planet is hot.
    His suit supposedly breathed, but sure as Nova, Darien was slowly roasting inside it. If someone had told him one could smell the heat, he would have thought that person was batshit crazy. Now, that slight fragrance of melting metal permeated every minute of his life.
    A hundred and nineteen days on this barren land was enough to get on anyone's nerves. Darien could easily see now why people got depressed here before. Yet, he was not depressed but angry. Frederick and Jacques were supreme assholes and made his life miserable. Technically, he