Uprising of the Exiled (Splintered Galaxy Book 2)

by Eddie R. Hicks

  As Phylarlie reluctantly lowered her glass back to the bar, one of the Linl bartenders provided her another round. Exactly what she wanted, and she didn’t have to ask for it. She looked at the bartender with a surprised look across her face; he merely nodded his head to the woman sitting beside her.

  Phylarlie saw a young Hashmedai woman, her eyes semiglowing red, providing the strobe lights didn’t shine across her soft pale skin. Her hair was tough to guess at first, especially with the light show. Green light splashed across her bobbed hair, turning it bright yellow, and then the red light followed, revealing it to be a deep red. Much of the right side of her face was covered by a part of her hair, as if she wasn’t mysterious enough. The only thing that wasn’t a mystery was the fact that this woman was a psionic. Long shiny dress, revealing ribbon-shaped crop top, cybernetic implants along the sides of her skinny body and arms. The implants she had were…different…none like Phylarlie had ever seen. They were much smaller, almost like tiny diamonds bolted into her body. The arm implants were different as well, appearing as a series of white vertical stripes traveling down her arm, ending at the palms and tops of her hands. Three larger diamond-shaped implants were clearly seen in a delta formation on her wrists.

  “That one is on me,” the woman said, causing Phylarlie to be released from her trance.

  “Well…thanks,” said Phylarlie as she drank.

  “Don’t worry, you’re not my type,” the woman said. Phylarlie’s body jerked slightly, having nearly choked on her drink thanks to her words.

  Phylarlie placed her drink back on the countertop as she folded her arms and took a long analytical stare at the young woman. “You’re clearly not here to seduce me,” Phylarlie concluded. “You can speak to the Linl, dazzling psionic upgrades.” Phylarlie paused as she considered her next words, while the woman sat cross-legged and smiled in a flattered way. “You’re an Archmage.”

  “Not officially,” the woman said. “Though I have probably given birth to five or six future Archmages.”

  Five or six children? At that age? “Correction, you’re a fucking breeder,” Phylarlie said. And quite possibly a waste of a powerful psionic.

  Since Hashmedai lacked the means to produce psionics, some psionics were forced into breeder camps where they spent much of their lives being matched up and copulating for the sole means of getting pregnant and ultimately giving birth to psionics. A lot of psionics were killed or captured during the invasion of Earth, resulting in an unexpected loss of psionics serving in the military. Phylarlie quickly put the facts together; the empire has stepped up in the breeding program by taking psionics that would normally be sent to the frontlines to have children, and lots of them.

  “And you are,” the woman softly said, “Phylarlie Starchaser, daughter of Yominv Crossblade and Archmage Iolysta Frosttouch, sister to Archmage Noylarlie Atonement.” The strange woman shot her crafty smile.

  “Who are you and who sent you?” Phylarlie demanded.

  “Di’aria Wintersembrace is the name,” she said, then spoke to the Linl bartender in his language. He promptly returned with a glass of wine for Di’aria.

  “And?” Phylarlie said impatiently, while Di’aria began to drink.

  “And, I love Aryile wine, especially this one. Cybril red wine.” Di’aria swirled her glass and shut her eyes, taking in the aroma of the drink. “And nobody sent me…yet,” she added.

  “Unless you got something important to say, I’m going to head home,” Phylarlie said with irritation.

  “Your sister isn’t in here in Morutrin. She was, about uhm…thirty years ago. In this very bar in fact.”

  She may have potential, Phylarlie thought. There was just one problem with the info Di’aria just revealed; it wasn’t anything new. “I figured that part out already.”

  “Including the bar?”

  “OK, not that.”

  Di’aria’s augmented hand pointed toward Phylarlie’s barstool. “She sat in that very seat you’re sitting in too, got into a small fight, then left with an Aryile man.” Di’aria raised her wineglass, gawking at the thin red liquid within it. “A few hours later, a space station in orbit was destroyed, and the Crimson Arrow left the system. Nothing else is known about her.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  Di’aria finished her drink and then answered her question. “Most of it is in the security vids.” She removed a data crystal from her top and gracefully tossed it toward Phylarlie, who caught it quickly with her assassin reflexes. The weight of the crystal impacting the palms of her hands caught Phylarlie off guard; she forgot how much heavier small objects like that were on a planet like this. “Which I just downloaded before you arrived. Now if I were you, I’d drop this search and reconnect with the Assassins’ Guild before your name appears on a kill order.”

  Phylarlie projected a calm demeanor in response to her last statement, masking the thoughts of shock and concern that now flowed through her thoughts. “Why me?”

  “You haven’t taken a job since you got back from Earth…one year ago. In the eyes of many, you’re no better than the deserters at this point.”

  Phylarlie looked away while clenching her first around the data crystal. “I just wanted to—”

  “Find Noylarlie,” Di’aria said, finishing Phylarlie’s sentence for her. “I get it. But remember, she left here with an Aryile, and most likely she traveled to Radiance Union space where there are no space bridges. It will take decades for her to return to the empire.”

  Then there’s the question of why she was with an Aryile. Working for the Celestial Order? A thought Phylarlie couldn’t bear to deal with. Phylarlie produced a credit chit out from her side pocket, a stolen chit of course, one that she’d held on to since coming to this star system almost a year ago. “Take it,” she said, offering the credit to Di’aria, who merely stared at it and shook her head. “I was saving most of it in case I needed to pay someone off for intel. Looks like you’re that person.”

  “I live in the empire; I have no need for currency. And you should know that!” Di’aria said. “You’ve been living out here too long; it’s time to return home.” Di’aria’s cold pale hands pushed the chit back toward Phylarlie. “Keep it; better yet, give it to Jazz you’ve been holding out on your share of rent payments far too long.”

  Phylarlie felt the sudden urge to snap the credit chit in half upon hearing that. “What the fuck else do you know about me?”

  Di’aria leaned backward in her seat while stroking the lock of hair that covered her eye. “You and Jazz have been copulating,” she said, following up with a laugh.

  Phylarlie’s red-orange eyes opened wide in terror, “You know about that too?”

  Di’aria’s laugh intensified before revealing, “To tell you the truth, I was joking about that.” Phylarlie’s palms slammed into her face and stayed there. This woman just fished additional information out of her. “What, so you copulated with a human?” Di’aria’s composure became energized while her fingers flailed about in random directions. She leaned in extremely close, no doubt excited at what details she might be able to pry from her. “Please, do tell,” she whispered.

  Chapter 7

  ►► ESV Winston Churchill, Earth Orbit

  ► Sol System

  Chloe’s patience with the matter at hand was growing thin. She wanted the whole investigation into the mysterious psionic energy reading to be over and done with, and her team put into proper use, namely the training they came all the way back here to Earth to participle in. Sarah sat in her seat within the transport while Chloe floated next to the air lock, waiting for Ella.

  Chris approached Chloe from behind and then spoke. “So you haven’t said a word to me since we arrived.”

  “I’ve been busy,” Chloe whispered back. “And you know as well as I do, we need to keep this hush-hush.”

  What she said was a bit on the cold side, but necessary. The two had become romantically involved during the five years they sp
ent in Alpha Centauri; one couldn’t pull them apart when off-duty time came. Now? They’d officially been off duty since their arrival, and she’d done nothing but slam a wedge between them. It had to be done as far as she was concerned—a ship like this, news of it will travel to ears it shouldn’t.

  “Still, a simple check-in once in a while would be nice,” he whispered.

  “Get back inside before Sarah starts to wonder what we’re talking about,” Chloe replied. “Bad enough she suspects something going on between us.”

  Chris remained silent and floated back inside the transport. Chloe wished there was another way to keep him satisfied, but there wasn’t. You don’t date people under your command, and if you do, it’s got to be kept secret. That means flat-out not seeing or talking with each other for weeks at times, giving off the false impression that nothing else is going on.

  Ella’s weightless body kicked and swam through the zero-g corridors toward the airlock Chloe hovered next to. Chloe gestured to her to hurry up, and the two eventually floated aboard. Chloe took a seat up front next to the transport’s pilot Peterson and gave him the thumbs up to seal the airlock and depart.

  The transport unlatched itself from the side of the Winston Churchill and propelled itself away. At a distance of sixteen kilometers, the transport became idle, awaiting a response from the Winston Churchill in regard to changes to the psionic activity.

  The response came at last from a transmission that played over the transport’s speakers. “It would appear that the psionic energy has shifted slightly toward your position,” EVE transmitted.

  “So it’s following us on the transport?” Chloe asked.

  “It would appear so,” transmitted EVE. “However much of the Winston Churchill is still being enveloped by the energy.”

  “I’ll take us much farther away just to be sure,” Peterson said while his hands laid in a new course for the transport.

  Chloe saw Earth swing into view via the forward windshield of the transport; it slowly became larger and larger as they traveled toward it. A subtle grin formed on her face as the pale blue orb eventually encompassed the entire viewable area of the windshield; this was the closest she’d been to Earth since leaving it.

  “Been a while for you folks, eh?” Peterson asked.

  “Too long,” Chloe said. Her eyes never left the sight of Earth.

  “I’m sure you all will be able to see how much it has changed soon,” Peterson said, and then the transport came to a full stop within the exosphere of Earth.

  “Confirmed,” EVE transmitted. “The psionic energy is no longer present aboard the Winston Churchill. It has followed your transport to your current location.”

  Either someone brought the gem on board or the psionic energy is something else, Chloe thought. An alarm began to screech via the cockpit’s computer terminal. A small holographic window displayed a red flashing warning: weapons lock.

  “What the hell is going on?” Chloe asked Peterson.

  Silence was his reply as he sat in his chair, paying no attention to the alert, making no attempt to pilot the transport. Is he not paying attention? Chloe wondered. “Talk to me, Peterson, what is that noise?” she asked.

  Somewhere in the northern hemisphere, a single bolt of plasma launched upward from the surface of Earth and slammed into the transport. Its shields weren’t active. The explosion that followed rocked the transport and sent it into an uncontrolled descent toward Earth, half of the exterior of the craft was on fire. On the inside chaos, smoke and sparks filled the cabin up, a sight that was too familiar with Chloe and her team. Once again, they found themselves on a transport plunging toward the surface.

  “I hope you all are strapped in because this is going to be rough!” yelled Peterson as he frantically tried to keep the transport level as it sank beneath the clouds.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Sarah yelled.

  “We’re going down!” Peterson yelled.

  “We can see that! The question is why?” And why didn’t you react to the warning? Must be a rookie pilot, Chloe thought.

  … … …

  ►► Golden Ears Mountain, Earth

  ► Sol System

  “Nice shot,” Destiny said as her advanced binoculars transmitted imagery of a burning and crashing UNE transport ship, leaving behind a trail of black smoke in cloudy skies.

  Destiny and Tetsuya stood with Justin and Vuyin at the summit of the Golden Ears mountain peak. Vancouver and surrounding cities could be seen off in the distance below them, appearing as tiny structures that lay across the land. Tetsuya lowered the heavy surface-to-space plasma cannon he used to shoot the transport down, and then he smirked as the crashing ship got closer to their position.

  Using data collected from her binoculars, Destiny summoned a holographic overlay to appear over the snow-covered region several meters ahead. A red X to be exact, indicating the estimated crash site. “Get ready,” she said while arming herself with an eRifle.

  The rest of her team did the same and then lay in wait, behind large snow-covered rocks while activating the shield generators on their combat armor, looted from dead UNE soldiers several months ago.

  … … …

  Chloe, Peterson, Chris, Ella, and Sarah arose from the impact of the crash, as their seat belts held them in place. Smoke and fire continued to rage uncontrollably from the aft section of the craft. As Chloe removed herself from her seat, she saw that everyone was in one piece, not knocked out like the last time they crashed, a welcome sight indeed. She then ran toward the entrance; no point in staying inside a burring ship.

  “Is it possible to contact the Winston Churchill?” Chloe asked as she interacted with door control panels.

  “Yes,” Peterson said, “But we won’t be saying anything to them.” A humming noise echoed throughout the smoke-filled cabin, the sound of an eRifle powering up. Ella, Sarah, Chris, and Chloe weren’t packing heat.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Chris said with concern in his voice.

  “Hands where I can see ’em!” Peterson demanded.

  Ella, Sarah, and Chris complied; Chloe’s back was still turned to Peterson. But giving the shocked looks on their faces, the sound of an eRifle turning on and Chris’s response to that, Chloe figured that Peterson had a weapon aimed at her back.

  “That includes you too, Major!” Peterson added while the cold metallic end of his eRifle pushed firmly to the back of Chloe’s neck.

  She took a deep breath and then considered her options in this newfound ordeal. She still felt the barrel of the rifle jabbing her in the back of her neck, all the while she directly faced the main entrance to the transport with her hands not up as he requested. Perfect, she thought. The others won’t be at risk if what she does doesn’t work out.

  At a slow and steady pace, her hands began to rise into the air as requested. As they reached the halfway mark to being fully raised, she made her move.

  She shifted her body to the side while spinning around to face Peterson. One of her hands launched up to grab and force the rifle upward, while the second one balled into a fist and shot toward his gut. Two shots from his weapon roared; had this been an old-world weapon, the recoil would have made its presence known across her hand, which held the rifle up. Quick thinking on Chris’s and Sarah’s part led them to charge and tackle their would-be hostage taker.

  Peterson fell backward, the side of his head impacting the damaged control terminal up front. He didn’t fall to the ground. Instead, Peterson’s head rested along the edge of the terminal, his body lifeless along the side. Chloe’s face moved in to closer examine him; she saw the grisly sight of a piece of debris lodged inside his temple, holding his body up like a coat hanger.

  “I guess we won’t be getting answers from him,” Chloe said as blood gushed out the side of Peterson’s head.

  “Well shit.” Sarah ended her statement abruptly with a cough.

  Right—the smoke—we’ve got to get out of here. Chloe’s tho
ughts jumped back to a sense of urgency. She raced back toward the entrance to finish what she sought to do before the brief interruption. The doors swung up, letting in white light from the snow-covered mountain peak. The smoke from within the transport began to escape outside into the cold air as the surviving occupants of the crash did the same—only to be sent back in from weapons’ fire from an unknown source. eRifle bullets traveling at a fraction of the speed of light sent plumes of snow up toward Chloe and her team.

  “Please tell me we got some guns stored away back there,” Chloe said. Sarah’s and Chris’s hands examined the overhead storage compartments. Chloe looked back toward them after not hearing a reply to her question; Chris frowned and shook his head. “I thought keeping those stocked with weapons was standard!”

  “Maybe with Radiance,” said Chris.

  Sarah ran over toward Peterson’s body—more specifically his eRifle. I guess one gun is better than no gun, Chloe thought. As Sarah’s hands gripped the rifle, a computer voice said “Access denied,” and the rifle’s lights and screens vanished.

  “The fuck?” Sarah said.

  “Biometrics—some of the new weapons have them,” Chloe said.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Sarah asked as she threw the rifle in a fit of rage across the transport.

  “It scans your DNA. If it doesn’t match the assigned owner of the rifle, it locks you out,” Chloe explained. “Some of the newer models can be linked to your vitals as well; if you’re dead it locks you out as well.”

  “Anything else about this amazing future we stepped into I should know?” asked Sarah while she and Chris moved next to Chloe and Ella.

  “Yeah,” Chloe said as she took notice of two shadows moving closer to the entrance of the transport. “Someone here doesn’t like us.”