Uprising of the Exiled (Splintered Galaxy Book 2)

by Eddie R. Hicks

  A holographic screen appeared as he sat down on the frosty sofa. Text written in the Linl language loaded, listing various options from entertainment options, security options, food and water storage levels, and of course, environment control. His finger hovered next to the environment option, triggering a subholo window to materialize.

  Current temperature: Suite 100 Kaligans, Bedroom 500 Kaligans. His eyes shut as he tried to remember how Linl temperature units worked. As he recalled, water froze at 115. Why the fuck is it so cold?

  A cold and damp hand suddenly but gently gripped his neck. Razor-sharp retractable claws sprung forth from the hand seconds later. He reacted by shutting down the subholo window, then sliding his finger above the food and water storage option from the main menu.

  “Well that explains the temp,” Jazz said as a new subholographic window appeared, displaying an imagine of various Linl meals he had available within his food stores.

  “You’re not fun at all.”

  “I ate nothing but rations all day, Phylarlie,” Jazz said.

  “Which brings me to my next demand,” Phylarlie said while releasing her grip. “What do you have to eat here?”

  She leaped over the top of the sofa, landing her bottom next to him. He was impressed at how easily she was able to do that considering the gravity here was slightly stronger than that of Earth. He then looked at his Hashmedai companion as her hand removed a strand of her black hair away from her red-orange eyes.

  “I didn’t know you were going to be back so soon,” he said.

  “I hit another dead end,” Phylarlie said. “I’m starting to think she wasn’t here very long.”

  Since returning from Earth along with him, Phylarlie became obsessed with tracking down someone of importance to her. Who that person was, was a mystery to Jazz. All he was able to put together was that said individual spent time here in the Morutrin system. Now Phylarlie spent all her time chasing down leads. And stretching out on Jazz’s sofa when the trail goes cold, much like what she was doing right now, using his legs as a footrest.

  “So how long is my place going to feel like an icebox?” asked Jazz.

  “Your bedroom is still set for human temperatures.”

  He saw how comfortable she lay back across the rest of the sofa. She was wearing a long white shirt and nothing else, as indicated by the sight of the opening between her legs. The shirt was probably his, and it wasn’t the first time she put his clothes on.

  Her right foot came to rest on top of his shoulder, causing him to roll his eyes. She merely laughed, then said, “I’m hungry. Do something about it.”

  “You couldn’t get something to eat before you came back?” he asked while his arm forced her foot away from him.

  “I’m Hashmedai,” she replied. “I have no credits to buy food.”

  Or help pay rent.

  His head returned to stare at the holographic screen while her foot returned to rest up on top of his shoulder. “How about that Ienthan marinated steak you got?” she asked as the picture of it appeared on the hologram.

  His arm once again rose up to knock her foot off his shoulder. “I’m saving that for guests,” he said.

  Her foot came right back, this time the heel of it, crashing into his arm. “I’m your guest!”

  The heel of her foot pushed into his arm repeatedly. She was annoying the hell out of him, and there was only way this was going to end. The same way, he’d handled it every time she crashed at his place only to provoke him.

  “All right, that’s enough!” he shouted.

  She sat up quickly with a smug look across her face as he leaned toward her to confront her. “Do something about it!” she said in a taunting manner, and then forced his head to slam into hers with the aid of her hands.

  Several seconds passed as the two stared into each other’s eyes, wondering who was going to react first. Her tongue provided him that answer as it slid down his cheek while her hands firmly held his head in place. Cold mist from her mouth blew out toward the now wet side of his face; the feeling only dropped his body temperature more. Not that she cared; she repeated the process, this time with his lips.

  “I said do something about,” she whispered.

  He grinned before his hands gripped her hips. Her body fell forward, forcing her to lie on him, while his hands slithered down toward her ass. That nice firm ass he loved to squeeze and slap when she rested on him like this. As much as he wanted to continue this romp, as much as he wanted to continue stroke her light blue skin, while she continued to lick him, there was a problem.

  “Too cold, isn’t it?” she asked while removing her hand from his boxers.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good thing I’m always one step ahead,” she said while her red-orange eyes stared at the glass sliding door that led to the bedroom.

  Much better, Jazz thought as the heat from his room, quickly began to return his body temperature to normal. The walls had a slight glow to them as the last few hours of sunlight for the day beamed in from the window above the bed. The bed on which Phylarlie’s body unexpectedly fell upon as Jazz’s hands shoved her.

  “You’re a brave one,” she said while pushing her body back up. “Sneaking up behind an assassin like that.”

  “I’m one now unless you forgot,” said Jazz while acting on her from behind once more, kissing the back of her neck.

  Seconds later, she was naked, which wasn’t difficult, as that shirt was the only thing she had on. His hands rose up from her hips, traveling across her light-blue Hashmedai skin, resting on her breasts. Sweat was already starting to drip from her body, no doubt the heat of the room affecting her. All that time she spent on Earth, and she still wasn’t used to human room temperature.

  Her breathing began to deepen as one of her hands was magnetized to the goods between her legs. On that note, his goods were still covered up. His handiwork with her chest ended as he directed them to shed his clothing, revealing his chiseled chest and naked body. Now where was I? he thought and then gazed down at the sight of her ass. Aw yeah.

  His hands worked their way down her waist, toward its intended destination. “Too slow,” she muttered. Then, without warning, she spun, tackling Jazz down and across the fabric of the mattress with her quick Hashmedai speed.

  The low lighting triggered her eyes to slightly glow while she looked down at him, pinning his shoulders down. He felt how wet and sticky the fingers on her right hand were. She was more than ready and so was he. The two wrestled back and forth across the bed, the only way to solve a disagreement as to who should be on top. She won the first round, though he felt the occasional telekinetic force pushing against his body, giving her the advantage; the gravity of this world didn’t help. She rode him intently for a few minutes. That’s OK, he thought and waited for her guard to lower. Her moans echoed throughout the suite and seconds later her glowing eyes shut, as she periodically leaned backward to catch the cool draft from the living room. She was going to need it to stay focused.

  His arms shoved her body to the side of the mattress, while he rose up to his knees above her. His hips worked like a jackhammer, savoring every moment while her left leg rested against his shoulder.

  Her body was now covered in sweat, significantly more than his was. It was as if she stepped out of the shower; the environment was taking its toll on her body. She rode him again, refusing to give up, refusing to take a break. Jazz couldn’t tell what was sexier as he looked up: her soaking-wet tits bouncing up and down, her hips working overtime, or her determination to have four orgasms. In any case, she wasn’t done with him yet.

  Chapter 4

  ►► Helspan

  ►Epsilon Eridani System

  Helspan was a small rocky terrestrial world littered with craters and jagged mountains. No water, no trees, no life with the exception of its Hashmedai population. Because of its distance from Cerbillon, a.k.a. Epsilon Eridani, the planet received only a fraction of the light from its parent star, making
it an ideal planet for the Hashmedai to set up a colony.

  The Hashmedai presence in the system was still new compared to other systems they had inhabited. At one point, the empire had no plans to set up shop here. The Cerbillon system was located in an unexplored region of space close to the borders of the Radiance Union and old Linl worlds before they joined the union. The Hashmedai first ventures into this region resulted in the conflict between them and the Linl, which ultimately resulted in the Linl joining the union and the Morutrin system becoming the contested star system it is today.

  The Hashmedai presence here had one purpose: to keep an eye on Radiance as they studied the human race, which lived only ten and half light-years away. After the failed invasion of Earth, the planet Helspan was given a new purpose: observe the newly formed UNE as they branched out into the stars, the seventh known race on the galaxy stage.

  A hotel located on Helspan’s northern hemisphere housed Noylarlie Atonement, Archmage of the Hashmedai Empire for the fourth week and final week, at least that’s what she hoped. She slid off the bed where she spent the night, or day—it was hard to tell at times with the short day and night cycles as well as the faint sunlight. Her left hand patted a sore spot on her back—second time this week, terrible bed. Nothing like the one she’d gotten used to back at the imperial palace when she made her home there. The bed inside the Crimson Arrow wasn’t any better, which is part of the reason she opted to stay in the hotel; that and it gave her a small break, a chance to sleep in a room and look out a window when she woke up.

  A new message indicator flashed on her hotel room’s computer terminal. About time, she thought and merged her mind with the computer to access it. A message written by administrator Payi beamed into her thoughts; none of it was good news. “Crimson Arrow must be searched,” is where she stopped reading and shut down the message. A few seconds later, her psionic mind demanded the computer terminal to contact Payi. His appearance loaded in a holographic display, blue skin, black hair, almost like her.

  “Ah, greetings, is there anything I can do for you?” Payi said.

  “You can start by resending me your message, stating the opposite of what you wrote,” Noylarlie demanded.

  “I’m sorry, but as I said, the space bridge in the system isn’t used to this much activity,” Payi explained. “Prior to the invasion of Earth, our psionic slaves working on the space bridge were transferred elsewhere.”

  Her fist crashed onto the surface of the terminal, “I am an Archmage, and I insist you place the priority of my ship above the rest and not insult me with a search!” Her index finger cocked at the hologram as her voice grew stronger with each word. “Make me wait any longer and I will kill you, kill your mate, kill your children, and force your dying old mother to watch.” Her psionic mind had quickly accessed his bio via the knowledge network to double-check she had the right administrator. Oh yeah, it’s him all right, and his whole family lives in this system.

  “OK, I’ll get to the point. Your status as an Archmage has been temporally nullified until the empress can speak with you, as you might—”

  “What?”

  “You vanished after your mission for Jerut in Morutrin; you provided no explanation, made no contact before leaving the space bridge, and made no contact after you came out of cryo from…wherever you went.”

  Archmages were expected to transmit or telepathically communicate with the empress if they were going to be out of contact for multiple years because of space travel. Noylarlie neglected to do any of that. For one thing, not even the empress knew of the black ops mission. Additionally, Noylarlie wasn’t adept at telepathic communication, and she would rather few people knew until she got better, if she got better. Telepathic thoughts required mental stability, something she lacked.

  “I didn’t know you hated your family that much,” Noylarlie said with her arms crossed.

  “We have to search all ships in the system for deserters from the Earth invasion; no exception will be made for you because of your status.”

  “I’ll start with your children.” The hologram vanished as she sighed.

  She knew that carrying out her threats, as satisfying as it would be, wouldn’t get her to Earth. With her status the way it was, she would have only been labeled as a traitor, and the military would come to fight her. She could kill them, and at one point she seriously considered it. But in the end, it wasn’t worth it. She would eventually end up tired from the mind strain caused by the excessive use of psionics and meet her end.

  Blue light flashed from Noylarlie’s teleportation into the Crimson Arrow’s cockpit. Ary Parcisei, her Aryile partner in crime—the sole reason why she could not have the ship searched—sat in one of the three chairs. One of his hands held on to a Radiance data pad while the other raced across one of the various computer terminals decorating the cockpit. Noylarlie’s body winced at the uncomfortable high temperatures of the cockpit, and quite possibly the entire ship.

  “Parcisei.” she grumbled.

  His head snapped to attention, and he stared at her. “Ah, just in time!” he said in the Hashmedai language.

  “To what? Die of heat stroke?”

  “You were in the hotel, my friend. It was freezing in here,” he said.

  “They want to search the ship, and I can’t get out of it,” she said as she took a seat up front.

  “Oh, but you can.” There was a hint of optimism in his voice. Enough to cause Noylarlie’s mouth to curl at the side.

  “Explain,” she said.

  Parcisei’s scale-clad hands placed the data pad in his lap as spoke. “The Celestial Order has taken an interest in this system.” His hands motioned as he talked. “The deserters are being recruited and smuggled out.”

  “Get to the part where I’m supposed to care,” Noylarlie retorted. She was well aware of the deserter fiasco, after all.

  “Salvagers being paid by the order will smuggle me out to Morutrin,” he said with a smile.

  “We’re going to Earth, not Morutrin.”

  “Ah yes, but we’ll get there!” he said. “Salvagers take me on a little joyride to the Morutrin system, then you get the Crimson Arrow searched, take the space bridge to Morutrin, pick me up, then we take the space bridge there to Earth.”

  “I don’t like it; salvagers will do anything for credits. Who’s to say they won’t turn you in to the union for a price?”

  “Well, you see, I already contacted them.”

  You did what? “I really hope you’re joking and didn’t use my ship’s commutation system without telling me.”

  “Oh, I most certainly did. There’s a ship already in the system coming in.”

  Both of Noylarlie’s hands rested on her blue face, a headache was growing as she yelled, “Parcisei!”

  “This plan will work; this I guarantee. In a few weeks, you and I will be on Earth, and nobody here will know that I was with you.” He continued to speak along with his hands as they waved around. “And let me tell you, the knowledge network has some interesting details about some of the foods humans have at their disposal. There’s this one fruit called an apple, and apparently it’s got a taste you can’t find anywhere in the union.”

  Noylarlie paid no attention to the rambling that came from his mouth. Parcisei wasn’t an expert on Hashmedaian computer systems. Multiple scenarios played on in her head as a result of hearing this. What if he sent out a systemwide broadcast by accident? What if he contacted pirates rather than salvagers in the system? “This is unbelievable,” she said, groaning.

  “Oh, true story. A scholar named Odelea wrote a detailed report on apples. Aryile chefs across the union are paying top dollar for anyone who can import them.”

  “Parcisei, shut up.”

  … … …

  The Dark Star was a three-hundred-year-old Hashmedai freighter. It’s once eye-catching black-and-silver colors now appeared as a dull brown seasoned with scars of battle and sooty patchwork. Most parts of the ship now contained
a mixture of Hashmedai, Linl, and Radiance technology, all looted from the remains of destroyed or abandoned ships in the Morutrin system.

  The Dark Star landed in Helspan’s northern settlement, the location where Avearan Slayer, the Dark Star’s strongest psionic, and their passenger, a Hashmedai woman named Fahia, directed Captain Trin Rage to land. The entire Hashmedai psionic crew of the Dark Star exited: Trin Rage, the captain; Wyngard Wisechild, second-in-command; Garif Risingdawn; and of course, Avearan Slayer with their guest, Fahia, behind.

  “All right, we’re not going to be here long. No drinking or whores—understood?” Trin said. Avearan and Wyngard acknowledged Trin’s request, but Garif remained silent. “Garif…that includes you too.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Garif said.

  “You aren’t on Taxah anymore,” Trin said to Garif. “Be thankful Avearan is willing to be your mate. Let’s meet back here in two hours. Remember, this system is controlled by the empire. If you see someone from the authorities, walk the other way. Fast.”

  Wyngard, Trin, and Garif walked away from the Dark Star, entering an elevator that led to the rest of the outpost. Avearan stayed behind as Fahia took a few steps across the docking bay, and then extended her finger toward a dark-crimson ship. “There,” Fahia said. “The Crimson Arrow.”

  Avearan stepped behind the tall Hashmedai woman, glancing at the ship she pointed at. “What kind of delicate cargo will we be transferring from the Crimson Arrow to the Dark Star?”

  “Not what, who.”

  “Another person? I don’t think the captain will approve.”