The ground shook as a loud thundering noise boomed from farther back in the base. Both Keys and Boyd got up, leaving the room in a rush. This new situation had Akeia sweating more than normal, given how warm humans kept their rooms. The base’s sudden shaking was one thing, but the two leaving so fast without saying anything was surely cause for concern.
Another cause for concern presented itself as someone appeared behind Akeia—it had to be an assassin, he assumed. The shadowy figure placed a hand on the back of Akeia’s shoulder. I must be the target, Akeia thought. He wanted to use his psionic powers to defend himself, but his skill in this mysterious act was limited. He rarely used his gifts—even lifting an object with his mind was an extremely difficult task for him. During the ambush, his sister Kroshka had used what gifts she had to help the two escape while he simply ran.
Protecting himself from humans and now a Hashmedai assassin were indeed impossible tasks, he was certain. He waited for the assassin blade to hit—there was nothing he could do while tied up to a chair. But death didn’t come.
“I’m not here to kill you,” the assassin said. “I’m getting you out of here. A Psi is on the other side of this door, waiting to teleport us out.” The assassin used his dagger to cut away at the rope shackling Akeia to the chair and then placed a human pistol in his hands. “Just in case,” he said before vanishing.
Akeia’s nightmare had an end in sight…just beyond the door. He got up and limped toward it. The beating he had suffered during previous interrogations still weakened him, and his joints were full of pain. His free hand extended to open the door, while the other held the pistol in anticipation of the unexpected. The door opened, but there was no psionic—just Boyd, who instantly turned around to see Akeia standing at the door…armed. Boyd, in a panic, aimed his weapon at Akeia. Akeia did the same, but neither of them fired.
The stun disk that had been carefully placed on Akeia’s shoulder, however, activated. A surge of energy rendered every part of his body weak. He wanted to fall to the ground, but something was preventing that—no, someone was. Someone cloaked behind him was holding him up…the assassin perhaps. Though Akeia was effectively stunned, his hands holding the pistol remained in the air as if nothing had happened.
Boyd’s body started to shake, and he began losing balance, only to be held back up by an invisible force behind him to keep his arms and weapon pointed at Akeia. Boyd was getting the same treatment as Akeia. A female assassin appeared behind Boyd—clearly the one who stunned him and held his body up. Akeia saw her index finger meet up with the finger Boyd had next to the trigger of his gun. She moved his arms so his gun aimed perfectly at Akeia’s head, and with a smile on her face, she licked the back of Boyd’s neck and then vanished.
The trigger had been pulled. Akeia’s body spun around, landing face first on the ground, forming a pool of his own Hashmedaian blood.
………
An empty drinking glass hit the bar top. Kroshka’s slender fingers released their grip on the glass. It was her second glass of vodka, an Earth drink she had taken a liking to over the last few months. She sat in a local gentlemen’s club, far west from the hotel where she and Jazz were staying. Relaxing music played in the background as exotic dancers took the stage to impress the masses with their dance moves and shedding of undergarments. People gave a few strange looks when she walked in alone, with her small traveling case in tow, and took a seat at the bar.
She didn’t pay much attention to the dancers. A lot was on her mind as of late, such as the last message she had received from her brother. Akeia was captured and being tortured by humans, and now Radiance were making a public appearance on this world. The dancers are better in Las Vegas anyway. A third glass of vodka made its way into her hands, and she placed the glass to her mouth to take a sip. Best to go slower with this glass. Too much booze interfered temporarily with her psionics abilities.
“Why am I not surprised to see you here,” said a familiar voice next to her. She turned to see her new drinking buddy. It was Jazz.
She smiled at him in a slightly intoxicated way. “So you have found me.”
“You were also in places like this in Vegas…or hanging with Destiny.”
Kroshka sipped her drink again, turning to watch the dancers onstage. They were topless, moving gracefully while monetary notes found their way to them, delivered by the men watching. “The female body is such an interesting design—how it attracts possible male companions.”
“Pretty sure the male body does the same for women,” Jazz said.
“But that’s all the male body can seemingly do outside of insemination. The female body, however, can give birth to a child and feed it during its first few moments of life.” She turned her attention back to Jazz, who was giving her an odd stare. “It’s truly a remarkable design.” She adjusted her sunglasses and took another sip of her drink.
Jazz asked, “So do they have places like this on Paryo?” She finished the whole glass of vodka as he asked that—so much for nursing this one. “Or another place within the Hashmedai Empire?”
How does he know? “Those words…shouldn’t be coming out of your mouth, Jazz.”
“Met the survivors from your recon team—interesting bunch,” he said.
Her facial expression switched to a slightly more relieved state. “Survivors—this is good to know.” She would find Akeia and then get back to the command ship. She felt everything would be fine after that. The seeds of hope were planted, so now she had to deal with one last detail. “My apologies for deceiving you this whole time, Jazz.”
Jazz ordered a drink. “What she’s having,” he told the barkeep. “Humanity ain’t used to dealing with extraterrestrials,” he said to Kroshka.“Probably for the best, unless you wanna end up on TV like those guys.” A glass of vodka was handed to him, and he took a gulp. “I take it you aren’t friends with them?”
Kroshka’s eyes were on Jazz while she thought of a reply. She waited for the bartender to move out of hearing range. “The Radiance Union are murderous zealots.”
“A couple of assholes in the Middle East fit that description.” Another gulp of vodka entered Jazz’s body. He looked like he really needed it. “Some of us ain’t so different.”
“Paryo was almost identical to this world when the Radiance Union first arrived,” she said. “They uplifted us, gave us technology, advanced our race, and even allowed us to live on planets they controlled.”
He folded his arms. “Sounds like a sweet deal. What went wrong?”
“They demanded we join the union, accept their gods, and change our way of life. Apparently our ways were too appalling to them.” Her gaze turned to the dancers once again. “For example, places like this were common among my people. It’s our primary means of entertainment, but the Union view it in a negative way.”
“So you went to war with them ’cause they dislike your strippers?” Jazz laughed.
She turned back toward him with a giggle. “No, there are many other reasons. Just know this.” She stared at his drink, quickly swiped it, and took a sip. “If humanity joins the union, they will take away the things you desire.”
“And if we refuse to join?” He attempted to take his drink back.
She held his drink away from him and said, “Then you end up like us, ‘demons’ of the galaxy.” She took another sip before allowing him to have his drink back.
Jazz asked for the bill, offering to pay for Kroshka’s as well. “That recon team is waiting for us outside in the back.”
Kroshka nodded and got off the bar seat. Her feet hit the floor, and the rest of her body was about to as well until Jazz’s arms embraced her—one too many drinks. “I think it’s working,” she said, her face turning red.
Jazz helped her stand up straight and asked, “What is?”
“The delightful beverages, of course!” She gently brushed her hand across his abs. So fit. “Do we have time to bathe together?”
“All right, let’s
get home.” Jazz settled up with the bartender.
………
Blue light faded from Chidorli’s teleportation jump from Earth to the recon team’s ship. Out from the light floated Onatiasha, along with Jazz, Chidorli, and Kroshka. Zhinbryo sat in the pilot’s chair of the cockpit, his fingers dancing across the flight terminal. The view of Earth from the ship’s front window shifted away, only the emptiness of space seen as the ship propelled forward away from Earth.
Onatiasha floated over to Zhinbryo. She sensed something wasn’t right, since she hadn’t given him the go-ahead to leave orbit.
“Is everything OK?” she asked in the Hashmedaian language.
Zhinbryo gave his report on the matter. “The command ship’s defense systems are activated. I tried contacting them, but they do not reply.”
“Let them know we have the princess aboard and will be commencing a search for the prince after we drop her off,” said Onatiasha. Zhinbryo nodded. Onatiasha faced Jazz and spoke in English. “We will return you back to your world after we place Kroshka in the hands of our fleet.”
“What about those assassins?” Jazz asked.
“You should be safe. They wanted you only because you knew where Kroshka was.” Onatiasha paused to think. “Why the guild wants her is anyone’s guess. And then there’s Phylarlie…” A deep sigh followed. “I couldn’t care less, as long as they stay out of my way. Not my job to deal with them.”
Kroshka’s face showed her discomfort. “Assassins?” she asked in Hashmedaian.
Onatiasha replied back in their language. “Yes, you’ll be fully briefed on the matter, Your Majesty.”
“Also, there is now a transport ship in orbit. It was not there previously,” said Zhinbryo.
Onatiasha said to Chidorli, “I need you to detect who’s onboard that transport.”
Chidorli closed her eyes to focus and then replied, “It’s protected by a mind barrier.”
Jazz asked, “What’s going on?”
“A transport ship from our command ship is in orbit around your world,” said Kroshka. “We don’t know who’s aboard, as they have a mind barrier blocking all unwanted incoming psionic energy.”
“Someone doesn’t want to be detected,” said Jazz.
“Mind barriers are standard on all Hashmedaian ships to prevent Radiance psionics from teleporting aboard and causing havoc on the crew or ship’s systems with their psionic powers,” explained Phylarlie. “It’s just that transports don’t have them active by default.”
Jazz reiterated, “So like I said, someone doesn’t want to be detected.”
………
Jerut sat in the captain’s chair of the command ship, overlooking operations. The bridge was now full of staff, which was all out of cryo and checking various system settings. One officer, Jaroin informed him of news he didn’t want to hear—the recon team had the princess aboard and was heading to the command ship to dock. This action made them look like heroes, not rebels. As with all previous transmissions, he ordered the crew not to reply while he waited for Nodevar and Lettielia to report back.
The command ship was still in the asteroid belt. It would take the recon about an hour for them to be in range to dock. The assassin duo had that much time to report back. Jerut’s communication implants detected an incoming communication from Whigli.
“What is it?” Jerut asked.
Whigli transmitted back, “Lettielia sent me a message. They were successful.”
“Do they have proof?”
“Yes, it’s being uploaded to me now.”
“Send a copy of it to the command ship.”
“I’m already on it.”
“Good.”
Jerut addressed the bridge crew. “I have received confirmation that Prince Akeia has been killed by humans. Princess Kroshka is dead as well.” Lie mixed in with the truth. Once the proof comes in of Akeia’s demise, nobody will ask questions. “The recon ship heading to us, as I said, is full of mutineers. They don’t have her aboard—most likely a trick to lower our guard. In twenty minutes I want a destroyer dispatched to the recon team’s ship.” A holographic display appeared in front of Jerut, displaying the layout and weapon capabilities of the destroyer. “I want it vaporized.”
If Whigli were to hear this order, he’d no doubt protest. It was no secret to Jerut that he had an attachment to the psionic on board. Good thing he’ll be in orbit on the other side of the human world.
………
Jazz sat in the back compartment of the recon team’s ship. His hands were clasped as he blew his warm breath into them, trying to bring their temperature back up. Hashmedians and their love for the cold. What’s up with that? Phylarlie floated beside him in the weightless environment, lying backward and spinning her daggers in circles. She was clearly bored. Jazz didn’t blame her—this trip was much longer than he had thought it would be. Goes to show how massive space really is—a trip from Earth to the asteroid belt by alien spaceship apparently is an hour journey or so.
Kroshka sat next to him. She didn’t say much after being briefed by Onatiasha, who now floated back to the cockpit to monitor the situation with Zhinbryo. From time to time, Jazz noticed, from the corner of his eye, Kroshka turning to stare at him with her semi glowing red eyes. It was as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t muster the strength or courage to do so. Across from them sat Chidorli. She, too, was getting bored and was using her psionic powers to create…something.
Jazz watched her hands gracefully move around a tiny translucent object, which began to grow in size and slowly take form. Long and tubular at first, it got longer as a leaf-shaped object materialized on the side of it. The top, too, started to unfold and take shape—it looked like a flower. Chidorli released her completed sculpture, and it floated directly into Jazz’s hand. He took a closer look. It was indeed a flower made entirely of ice, brought into existence from thin air. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and she simply smiled and shrugged. The ice flower floated above his legs as he released it from his hands. While he was appreciative of the gesture, holding ice in his already cold hands wasn’t a welcome feeling.
Jazz turned to Kroshka, who looked a bit jealous. Cute. “I don’t wanna come off as being rude,” he said to her. “How do you say ‘thanks’ in your language?”
“You would say, ‘Sevsibal,’” Kroshka replied.
Phylarlie broke her silence and jumped in. “Or ‘Sevsibal-lota.’”
Kroshka sighed, and her breath came out in mist form. “Yes, if you are from Taxah, then it’s typically Sevsibal-lota.”
“What’s the difference?” asked Jazz.
“The lota part emphasizes that you are sincere. Hashmedai from the planet Taxah tend to speak more in a formal way,” explained Kroshka.
“Uh, right.” He turned to Chidorli and said, “Sevsiballer.” That didn’t come out right at all.
Chidorli laughed, understanding what he was trying to say. She replied, “Poluyintina.”
“Translation?” he asked.
“She said, ‘You’re welcome,’” explained Kroshka.
“Cool.” He lifted the ice flower to his face to examine it closer. “And I thought I’d learn the swear words first.”
Kroshka clucked, “I’m sure our assassin here can teach you all of those.”
Phylarlie grabbed the spinning dagger by the hilt and closed her eyes, no doubt thinking of something bad to say. “If you ever encounter someone from Radiance, say ‘Manltanco-lota poutio-imaliv’—‘fuck your gods.’”
About fifteen more minutes passed, and the asteroid belt was slowly coming into view with a large metallic sphere in its center—the command ship. Another smaller ship was in the distance, closer to them than the command ship, and it was closing in fast. Chat between Zhinbryo and Onatiasha started again, this time with much more of an urgent tone in their voices. More chatter in their language—Phylarlie said a few things, then took a seat next to Chidorli and strapped on a seat belt. The other
s did the same, except Jazz, who was confused…and concerned.
“Hi, the human is confused. Please explain what is going on,” he shouted.
Onatiasha shouted back to him in English, “Get your seat belt on.” She looked forward at a large Hashmedaian ship in front of them. “We’re under attack.”
“Ah, hell,” Jazz muttered.
The small scout ship the recon team was using slowed down to a more manageable speed for evasive action. The forward plasma cannons on the face of the destroyer glowed green as they aimed at the scout ship. A barrage of glowing balls of plasma shot forth while the scout ship made a hard turn to the side to avoiding shots. That turn later became a backtrack in the opposite direction from which they had come. Engines from behind the destroyer powered up, and blue energy expelled from behind it, accelerating to a velocity suitable to chase its prey.
Zhinbryo and Onatiasha exchanged a few words in their language, and she then addressed Jazz in English.”We’re heading back to your world. The destroyer is still behind us but a great deal further back since this ship is faster.” Onatiasha loaded up a holographic image of Earth, pushing it toward Jazz. “We will have a short window to get into position to teleport to the surface before it catches up with us. We need a safe place to go.”
He stared at the holographic globe for a few seconds, debating. Vegas? No that might put Destiny in the crossfire if things go sideways. Montreal…a long shot, but that old safe house should still be there. He pointed to Montreal’s location on the hologram, which then hovered back to Onatiasha. She examined it, sharing the information with Chidorli and Zhinbryo.
………
Jerut’s eyes peered at the data regarding the destroyer. It was sent via a holographic display screen. After one frustrating hour of watching the ship flee, the target was finally destroyed in orbit around the human world. Mission accomplished? Jerut knew better. Its crew had more than enough time to teleport to the surface. The psionics aboard the destroyer reported that they did not detect any kind of teleport—of course not. One needed to be looking in the region of the teleport in order to detect it—unless one was a powerful Psi. The crew was most likely too focused on their duty anyway.
Celestial Ascension (Splintered Galaxy Book 1) Page 14