Uprising of the Exiled (Splintered Galaxy Book 2)

by Eddie R. Hicks

  Jazz returned with a large pitcher of drinking water and placed it next to a tray next to the tub. Cooling her body down was only half the battle. “Thanks,” Phylarlie said and then raised her body upward to drink.

  Jazz felt absolutely no guilt in gazing at her breasts, which were now dripping wet with fragments of ice falling off them and down her fit female form while she drank. He got hard relatively fast. “I’ll turn down the heat for you,” Jazz said. “You can find me in my room if you need me.”

  He stepped out of the washroom and lowered the lighting inside. Darkness and cold water, the most natural relaxing state you can provide for a Hashmedai. He took one last look at her before adjusting the temperature controls for the apartment. Both of her arms were stretched outward from side to side in a relaxed manner, and she smiled at Jazz as her red-orange eyes glowed into the darkness that enveloped her.

  The sexual tension between the two remained high all night. Both Jazz and Phylarlie knew neither of them was going to be able to get a good night’s sleep unless something was done about it. Neither of them needed to exchange words in regard to what their bodies wanted as Phylarlie entered Jazz’s room. Her bathrobe hit the floor the moment she caught sight of his still half-naked body. Her cold hands gripped his waist and pushed him onto the bed. To Jazz’s surprise, Phylarlie planted a sloppy yet passionate kiss across his lips, opposed to her wet tongue that he’d gotten used to.

  That’s quite the curveball there, he thought as she continued to kiss rather than lick his lips. During that puzzling display of affection, her hands stealthily slipped his shorts off. It wasn’t until his junk felt the wetness of her womanly parts slide across him that he realized what had happened.

  He was inside of her seconds later, and she began her sensual rhythm of pleasing, up and down, up and down. Comforting lubricating feel of her inside parts caused every muscle in his body to unwind and relax. Jazz noticed that she never fully dried her body off from the bath, as indicated by the droplets of cold water slowing raining off her body as she continued to work her hips. He didn’t mind it at all; the evening moonlight shined through his bedroom window, causing her soaking-wet pale-blue body and sexy womanly curves to glisten in the white light. Her bouncing breasts on top of that were a nice bonus. He wanted so badly to cup and hold them, to better feel her rhythm, but his hands lingered around her hips, while hers reached down and passionately held his hands. She must really want us to be lovers.

  … … …

  The two began to breathe heavily from exhaustion; after all, it required one to use more energy to fuck in this world thanks to its gravity. Nevertheless it was worth it. Their burning desires had been satisfied for the time being, a good night’s sleep was possible. Phylarlie’s arms made a few attempts to cuddle while they laid in the bed together, none of which Jazz wanted to reciprocate. He already felt like the line was crossed with all the kissing, holding, and passion she threw at him. The last woman to go all out like that in the bedroom was Alisha. Alisha and Jazz at the time were lovers; Phylarlie was merely a good friend and booty call, a friend who clearly wanted to take things to a level Jazz didn’t. Phylarlie was not Alisha.

  “I’ve been invited to attend the Conquest Day festivities on Paryo,” Jazz said in attempt to take her mind off his reclusiveness.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I’m heading out in the morning with Veloshira,” assuming she’s still alive—haven’t heard from her in a while.

  “Don’t go,” Phylarlie pleaded.

  “Why not?”

  “That event has turned into a means for the empress, high-ranking military personnel, planetary lords, and nobles to show off and talk about how much better they are compared to the rest common people in the empire,” Phylarlie explained. “And you being human…Y’lin probably just wants to put you on display, ‘the human who turned against his own people.’” Jazz grimaced at her statement. “Don’t go, please.”

  “The order might be there.”

  “Fuck the order,” she said with a grin.

  “I still need to get rewarded for my last mission from the guild.”

  “By all means, do that, just head back here once you’re done with the Assassins’ Guild.” She rolled her head over, he eyes still glowing in the dark room. “And since you’ll be going back…take my dagger and collect what little reward is waiting for me for my work with Hilemei.”

  Phylarlie was denied full credit for killing General Hilemei of the Radiance Union. Hilemei survived her attack, only for Nodevar to finish the job all the way at Lejorania Sanctum where Hilemei was transferred too. A psionic out in that region transmitted the proof of the kill long before Phylarlie awoke from the twenty-one-year journey from Earth back to the Hashmedai Empire in cryo. She was pissed, to the say the least, and she refused to accept the minimal reward out of pride or take on new missions.

  … … …

  Jazz’s fist began to get sore after knocking on the side of the captured transport ship that Veloshira and he acquired days earlier. This ship was his only means of leaving the planet without having to pay for passage on a freighter. He banged his fist again, while a large droplet of water impacted on his bald head. Looking up, he saw thickening rain clouds blocking out all the night sky and moonlight.

  “What the fuck.” he muttered to himself.

  “Is there something wrong, Jazz?”

  Jazz spun around and saw the petite pale figure of Veloshira stepping toward him. “Where have you been?”

  “It’s not important,” she said and then inputted a password on the transport door panel. The two stood back as the doors rose up.

  “I’ve been trying to contact you for a while now,” Jazz said as he and Veloshira entered the transport. “You missed out on dinner at the Rabuabin restaurant too.”

  “I’ve been resting a bit. I probably missed the call.”

  “Sent a total of fifteen messages.”

  “My sleep needs are quite extensive.”

  “Whatever,” he said, then sat shotgun up front in the cockpit, while she took the controls. The entrance door lowered shut afterward, and the engines hummed. The transport was ready for flight.

  Veloshira’s small fingers raced across the terminal in front of her, and then the transport took to the skies—just in time too, as heavy rain began to splash across the windshield. Jazz saw the city’s nighttime skyline in the distance quickly move out of view, replaced with the imagery of black nighttime clouds and water dripping off the sides of the windshield. Later it dripped off the blue ripples of the shields as they activated. The cloud cover parted, and the star-filled night sky and waxing moon once again came into view. The transport was now high above the storm cell.

  A soft beep from the computers reminded them that gravity was slipping away; the two buckled their seat belts and then became weightless. The blackness of space and the odd ship in orbit could now be seen with a bit of ice buildup along the sides of the windshield. The rainwater that had previously soaked it snapped frozen.

  “You’re going to love the reward from our last kill,” Veloshira said as she keyed a new course.

  “What is it?”

  “I’d rather not tell you,” she said and smiled at Jazz. “It’s a surprise.”

  “By the way, I’ve been invited to the Conquest Day festival.”

  “Oh,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know that.”

  That’s because you didn’t fucking answer my messages! “I was told not to go, but…”

  “You should go. Members of the Assassins’ Guild are rarely invited.” The stars and antiasteroid platforms began to zoom by fast as the transport entered sublight speeds. “Having someone there to represent us other than the guild master would be lovely.”

  “Are you OK with the detour, then?”

  “Yes, I was planning to watch the parade anyway with my son,” Veloshira continued. “You going to the party will give me more time to see him.” Then, with jubilation in her voice,
she added, “This works out perfectly!”

  The two later removed their seatbelts and floated toward the back of the transport where its cryo tubes were kept after confirming no ships were following them. The space bridge was hidden outside the system. A solid eleven- to twelve-day trip. This was done to prevent Radiance from knowing its exact location. Though now a day, Radiance’s interest with the empire’s presence in the system became less and less as the empire’s attitude toward them in the same was the same.

  … … …

  ►► Paryo

  ► Uemaesce System

  It took twelve days for the transport ship Jazz and Veloshira traveled on to arrive at the space bridge, and then another ten hours for it to be reassembled atom by atom as it was teleported over the distance of fourteen and a half light-years. It was hard for Jazz to imagine that this was the capital of the Hashmedai Empire, the Linl home world was less than five light-years away and the Aryile home world and capital of the Radiance Union was a little over seven light-years away. The Hashmedai were surrounded by enemies for centuries and still managed to keep this system safe and invasion free, Radiance was probably too afraid to attack.

  As their transport flew across the system, they passed by a number of planets. Each one had multiple command ships in orbit, even planets with no major settlements on them were protected by the impressive Hashmedai navy.

  Hours later they made a flyby past a gas giant, the only one that was a part of the inner planets. In addition to about five or six command ships in orbit, Jazz vaguely saw helium-3 mining platforms around the enormous world for the first time. Despite this world being an inner planet, it was hard to see it without direct sunlight. Lucky for Jazz, this flyby put them in a position to see what daytime looked like in this world—a faint light-brown crescent in the distance.

  Paryo came into view about thirty minutes later, a white gem in space with a blue ocean at its equator. Jazz lost count of the ships, transports and command ships in orbit, flying away from it or toward it. A space bridge hovered high above its north pole with a second one under construction next to it, a dozen ships orbited the existing space bridge, all of them waiting in line for it to be ready to send them through. Hashmedaian skyscrapers that extended from the surface of Paryo to the exosphere spiked out.

  Veloshira hissed in frustration and then frantically piloted the transport into a different direction; bring the southern pole of Paryo into view. Her actions prevented the transport from slamming into another ship that veered too close. Space traffic jam, Jazz thought. Everyone was here to attend the holiday gathering.

  The Assassins’ Guild was located inside a massive pyramid structure in the southern hemisphere of Paryo. At the foot of it on its northern side, lay the beach that merged with the ocean on Paryo. The rest of the surrounding area was a buzzing snow-covered metropolis. The high-rise buildings weren’t as tall as the others commonly seen throughout the planet. Most structures were super massive, wide transparent doughnut-shaped buildings, teeming with houses, markets, and an internal rapid transit system—Arcologies.

  Their transport came to a landing within a hangar bay built into the large pyramid. Veloshira and Jazz exited and headed toward the main elevator. The two wore their assassin trench coat armor, though Jazz had a thick winter coat over his. The elevator doors slid shut, cutting off the roaring sounds of transport ships zooming past the hangar bay’s entrance to the outside.

  The two later stepped into a wide triangle-shaped atrium. Plants that had a strikingly similar resemblance to evergreen trees were lined up one by one along the sides of the atrium. Dim red light beamed through the windows, shining down upon half a dozen Hashmedai assassins. Nonpsionic assassins wore the same trench coat Jazz and Veloshira had, while the psionic ones wore the black skintight suits. Walking into this area of the guild always put Jazz on edge. He always half-expected to see Nodevar randomly walk into sight. A lot of the assassins present gave Jazz odd looks before going on their way. They all knew who he was; none of them could ever accept the reality that a human, an alien, worked for them, let alone walked on the surface of their home planet.

  They approached their destination at last. A reception desk at the end of the room, where a Hashmedai woman with blue hair, orange eyes, and dark-pink skin stood. Riyel was her name, as Jazz recalled. Veloshira loaded a holographic window, which contained info on their recent and completed mission: kill Leinuo. Veloshira’s fingers then pushed the hologram toward Riyel.

  “Our mission was a success,” Veloshira reported.

  “I’m sure it was,” Riyel said and then placed her hand out toward Jazz in a give-it-to-me manner.

  “Still don’t trust us?” Jazz said as he handed Riyel his katana.

  “It’s just protocol. Besides, I caught my mate fucking a stripper last week,” Riyel said. “I don’t trust him or anyone these days.”

  Jazz held his laugher from bursting forth while Riyel scanned his blade. Traces of Leinuo’s DNA were detected, and the data appeared in a newly opened holographic window next to her.

  “Happy?” Jazz asked upon looking at the results window.

  “I’ll be happy when there’s a drink in my hand and this shift is over,” Riyel said, and then a new holographic window appeared, displaying the eligible reward for their effort. Jazz’s eye lit up, while Veloshira grinned at him, her surprise was unveiled.

  “A ship? We’re getting a fucking ship?” Jazz said with excitement in his voice.

  “Indeed,” Veloshira said. “Our recent killing spree, plus getting Leinuo, and recovering a transport has awarded us with our own ship plus the usual secondary award.”

  “Let me guess, Jazz. Radiance credit chits?” asked Riyel.

  “Fuck yeah!” Jazz exclaimed, while he kept his eyes fixed on a cut out image of the ship they were being awarded.

  The ship appeared to be slightly bigger than a transport. Cockpit up front, personal living quarters in the back, a small galley, and a lower deck that housed the cryo chamber, entrance to the ship, and a small cargo hold.

  “I don’t understand how anyone can live a life where you have to pay for things you want or need,” Riyel said as she prepared a small bag full of stolen Radiance credit chits.

  “I prefer our system,” Veloshira said to Riyel “You work and you get to eat and live. Work hard and get extra privileges. Work harder than most people and the empire takes care of you.”

  “And if you fail to do all that?” Jazz cut in.

  “Then you starve,” Veloshira concluded.

  Hashmedai had a chip implanted into them that contained a record of their productivity. An overseer at their occupation updated a database listing workers as productive, hardworking, or workers who go beyond the call of duty, as the saying goes. A quick scan let merchants and the like know if you’re good to shop or not and what kind of service they are allowed to get.

  Few people questioned the system, as most Hashmedai were assigned a career at birth by the empire based on its current and future needs. The only time someone switched was during a military draft, discovery of psionic power, or a brand-new career opening with zero people working in it. Many of the nonpsionic assassins fit that profile, as it was one of those brand-new jobs that needed people working within it ASAP.

  Life in the Radiance Union wasn’t a whole lot better, as many of their people were forced into a number of lifestyle choices or risked being excommunicated. It was no surprise to Jazz why the lawless Morutrin system was increasing becoming a popular place for Hashmedai runaways and Radiance exiles. Let’s hope humanity doesn’t follow in either footstep.

  “Before I forget,” Jazz said, “the kill order for Avearan Slayer—is it still available?”

  “It is but, but I don’t think you want to take that one,” Riyel said.

  “Why not?”

  “Rogue psionic, she’s killed two of our operatives already,” Riyel explained. “Don’t be her third and forth.”

  “If she’s in
the Morutrin system, we’ll take it,” Veloshira concluded.

  “Your funeral.” Riyel keyed in their request via a hologram. “Anything else?” asked Riyel.

  “Yeah,” Jazz said and then offered a plasma dagger to Riyel. “Phylarlie wants to cash in from her Hilemei fiasco.”

  … … …

  ►► Imperial Capital, Paryo

  ► Uemaesce System

  The Conquest Day festivities started loud and mind-blowing. A military parade left the imperial palace of the Hashmedai Empire, an enormous tower that rose up high into the exosphere of the planet. The parade was led by two young Hashmedai, one male and one female, carrying and waving the Hashmedaian flag, a red flag with a black sword in the center. The sword represented the first emperor who united all the factions that used to make up the Hashmedai world before they branched out into space.

  Behind the flag holders, were the generals and admirals of the military along with Torval, the Assassins’ Guild master. Various Archmages marched afterward and then psionics followed by guardians, warriors, and rifle-wielding soldiers marching in unison. In the skies, interceptor fighters flew in formation, leading the way for a formation of stratosphere frigates, scout ships and transport ships that cast enormous shadows on the crowd watching below.

  Jazz was quite surprised at how massive the event was as he watched from the crowd. Hundreds of Hashmedai civilians lined up along the marching parade, cheering, screaming, and clapping at the thousands of fellow Hashmedai who spent their lives defending the empire. Veloshira was one of those folks; she stood next to Jazz, alongside her mate, husband—whatever you call them—and her son. Jazz kept the hood of his coat on, to help hide his appearance, a pair of shades hid the fact that his eyes didn’t glow, a little trick he picked up from Kroshka when she tried to hide her glowing eyes while living on Earth.

  Nobody asked any questions as to why he needed a thick coat, while everyone else wore their everyday apparel. Jazz’s cover story was that he was making a fashion statement. The shadows that the hulking stratosphere frigates left on the ground was a chilling reminder to him of the days he spent on Earth during the invasion. Ships like that razed god knows how many cities.