Celestial Ascension (Splintered Galaxy Book 1)

by Eddie R. Hicks

  “Just wanted to know if Hendrix was here. I know him and Amanda were hanging out a lot.”

  “Haven’t seen him since we all were out for drinks,” Sarah said.

  “Exactly—nobody has heard from him since he came here with her.”

  “He probably got the blow job of the century from her and is out telling all his buds about it.”

  “Well, he didn’t tell us shit!” he said, and they both erupted with laughter.

  “Want to have a drink or two with us?”Might as well add another drinking buddy to the mix—bad enough military personnel are slowly being recalled back to base thanks to these aliens saying hi.

  Nelson paused for a few seconds and then said, “Sure, looking for this fool is stressing me out. Amanda’s here, right? Maybe she has a clue as to his whereabouts.”

  The two made their way into the hotel room, where Amanda gracefully sat on a small love seat toward the back corner of their suite. She loved that section of the room for some spaced-out reason and rarely ever left it.

  “Look what I found!” Sarah said, wrapping her arm around Nelson’s broad, solid shoulders.

  Amanda adjusted her glasses and shot Nelson a grin. “A man, huh?”

  He grinned back. “Well, if Hendrix is still here, I can see why he never left.”

  Sarah noticed the green flashing light on top of her phone. Someone had left a message or possibly several. She had forgotten to turn off silent mode after returning from James's place. There were three missed calls from Chloe and one new message.

  Chloe, 11:33a.m.: Where are you, been trying to call

  Sarah’s face grimaced as she returned Chloe’s text message.

  Sarah, 11:45a.m.: what’s wrong?

  Chloe, 11:45a.m.: Are you with Amanda?

  Sarah, 11:45a.m.: Yeah

  Chloe, 11:45a.m.: Get away from her now, she’s dangerous I’ll explain later

  Chloe, 11:46a.m.: I’m in la now, I’m coming to get you

  What the fuck is going on?

  A solid cold metallic object was firmly pressed against the back of Sarah’s head.

  “Please, Sarah, ask her to come,” Amanda said from behind. “Drop the phone, and get your hands up.”

  It’s a gun—has to be. Sarah reluctantly complied. “Thought we were friends,” said Sarah.

  “Oh, we can be,” Amanda said, “but right now I need you step into that chamber there and help me complete my quota for the month—two males, two females.”

  “What chamber?” Sarah asked.

  “Turn.”

  Slowly, Sarah spun around to face Amanda’s favorite corner of the suite, taking note of Nelson’s motionless body on the floor. Well, that explains the lack of heads-up from him.

  Sarah was surprised to see that Amanda was not behind her but in front of the coffee table and chair, which occupied that section of the suite, as the furniture melted away from existence. Four long, blue cylindrical tubes appeared in their place. A body remained perfectly still within one of them—it was Hendrix.

  “If you’re there, then who the hell has a gun to my head?” asked Sarah.

  Sarah felt the weight of the firearm slide up through her black hair and across the top of her head until it fell between her eyes. The pistol was floating in the air and didn’t look like any type of weapon she’d ever seen. Who builds pistols with holographic displays on top? Yeah, aliens landed on the White House lawn, so at this point, nothing is impossible.

  “Move,” demanded Amanda as the pistol’s barrel firmly pushed into Sarah’s face. “Your sister will join you when she gets here.”

  Amanda slowly walked toward the chambers, stopping briefly as Nelson’s body floated in the air and headed toward the chambers as well. Her eyes glanced at the small beads of blood dripping from his forehead. Amanda must have hit him hard and quietly.

  The front door broke free of its hinges and launched across the room as Chloe and a shirtless man with green scales on his arms and back burst through. Nelson’s airborne body came crashing to the floor, as did the floating gun that was aimed at Sarah. Amanda’s body hurled toward Chloe and the strange man, but it was knocked to the ground by a bright flash of purple light. Black smoke rose to the air, emanating from Amanda’s lifeless back as the two sisters stared down at her.

  “Well, that was quite the entrance, Sis,” said Sarah.

  “We were lucky her cybernetics were covered up,” said the scaly man. “Otherwise, this fight would still be going on.”

  “Now what?” asked Chloe.

  “I can remove the cryo tubes over there after we release that man from it,” he said. “Then I suggest you all stay low and not talk about this to anyone.”

  Easier said than done. I’m going to have to pay the damage deposit to the hotel, Sarah thought.

  “This should be it for the heretics on this world; but in case I’m wrong, take this.” He offered Chloe a small palm-size object. “It’s a distress beacon.”

  “So who wants to explain to me what the fuck is going on?” Sarah demanded, her arms crossed. “And don’t use the ‘A’ word.”

  “Asshole?” said Chloe with a smirk.

  “No…aliens,” Sarah said.

  “Nope, aliens have nothing to do with it,” Chloe replied.

  Sarah released a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

  Chloe added, “Extraterrestrials, on the other hand…”

  “I need a cigarette,” Sarah said.

  ………

  Impressive. It was the only word that came to Phylarlie’s mind after she completed her walkabout of Alisha’s home. She kept her stealth systems on level one for the time being, needing to conserve battery power. Besides, it was unlikely any human civilian would posses equipment that could detect her. Her decision to stay behind had been sudden—she received a transmission, as someone was kind enough to tip her off toward her target. The sender’s identity was a mystery that would have to be solved later. All she was able to put together was that the tipster was a Hashmedai…or at least knew how to speak the language.

  She entered a bedroom on the upper level. The room wasn’t very big, with a small bed in the corner and storage cabinets along the walls. Curiosity enticed her hands to slide open a cabinet—human apparel inside, quite small, clearly for a child.

  A holographic display window manifested before her, detailing the contents of the recent message she’d received earlier. She had a few minutes to kill. Might as well review my game plan. An image appeared, showing the landmass she was on—her current location was marked off on the eastern section. A mark listing a target was placed on the westernmost coast. The target mark was zoomed in on, showing an airfield with human fighter craft parked on it—surely a military base.

  The sound of the main entrance door shutting brought about a switch in Phylarlie’s focus. Two human voices were heard, none she recognized. The display vanished as she exited the room to eavesdrop on Alisha. Phylarlie knew of her planned flight after hearing Jazz mention it. With no ship available, the only way for her to travel west alone was to sneak aboard a human aircraft flight heading in that direction. She still wasn’t familiar with the locations of all flight ports—or whatever humans called them. Sure, she could have asked Jazz to assist her in getting to the local one—and at one point that was an option until she discovered Alisha and her family.

  However, keeping her current plans a secret was necessary. Her mission was to find and kill all those responsible for Akeia and Kroshka’s visit to this world—unenjoyable to say the least. Kroshka was safe in the hands of the recon team, but Akeia’s whereabouts remained a mystery the recon team had yet to solve. There’s no need to bring their bad luck into this. Bad enough the command ship wishes to kill them. This produced another dilemma—how do they get home? Recon team needs to be figuring that issue out. Phylarlie decided she would seek out Akeia alone.

  Phylarlie exited the room as a small human child ran up the staircase. This must be Alisha’s child. The girl
looked like a mini clone of her mother; even the long black hair reminded her of Alisha.

  The child made her way to the top of the staircase and ventured toward her room. In her invisible state, Phylarlie stepped aside so she wasn’t blocking the entrance. The child approached, but before entering her room, she stopped and moved her head up toward Phylarlie, making direct eye contact as she waved her hand in a welcoming gesture and then marched on.

  But how? Phylarlie moved her arms in front of her face. She saw nothing—the cloaking device was still active. A quick 180-degree turn revealed nobody behind her, so that meant the child was aware of her presence. This is impossible.

  ………

  At last they arrived, and Jazz parked the minivan outside a lone two-story house. He was relieved to see it hadn’t changed much from the last time he was there. A large deck from the second story extended forth, providing a spectacular view of the forested land just beyond the driveway. The exterior walls had wooden siding, giving it the look of a log cabin. More forest was behind it, truly a place to get away from it all and reconnect with nature—or in Jazz’s case back in the day, to get away from the thugs who wanted his blood.

  Alisha’s parents owned the place, but they gave it to her when they got too old to come out on a regular basis. When Jazz wasn’t deployed overseas, the couple came to the cottage at least once a year to relax, hike, drink—oftentimes too much—and finish the evening off with mind-blowing sex.

  His mind snapped back to the present as he sat in the idle and music less van. None of the Hashmedaian occupants, except Kroshka, were impressed with Jazz’s selection of Earth-based music. Everyone exited, carrying bags full of supplies. Jazz had made a quick stop at the grocery store on the way. He had kept it simple—cheap meats and jerky for everyone, and a case of canned soups for him. He hoped the ship’s situation could be sorted out soon. Keeping everyone here for the long term is going to be rough. Kroshka stretched her arms in the sky—she was the only one not carrying anything. Typical princess, Jazz thought.

  The front door creaked open—the hinges needed oiling. The wooden floor inside shone back the sunlight that beamed in from the windows set within eggshell-white walls. In the living room sat two large leather sofas and behind those was an open kitchen and a staircase to the upper level.

  Zhinbryo shoved Jazz to the side as he walked in, seeming frustrated. “Easy there, big Zhin,” said Jazz.

  Onatiasha stepped forward and spoke to Zhinbryo in their language, and then addressed Jazz. “He’s just tired and hungry.”

  Jazz shut the front door and went to find the air-conditioning control. It was stuffy inside, and his Hashmedaian guests were probably going to lose it in a few. “Rooms and shower are upstairs,” Jazz said. “It’s going to be hotter up there than down here until the AC does its thing.” His hand interacted with a white panel on the wall, and the humming sound of air blowing through the vents followed.

  Zhinbryo and Onatiasha removed themselves from the confines of their combat armor. It was an automatic process. Zhinbryo’s exo suit simply released its grip around his body, allowing him to step out, while the back of Onatiasha’s suit flipped open like a shutter door for her to back out of.

  Kroshka made her way partly up the stairs and said, “I’m going to bathe.” She stopped and turned to Jazz with a warm, inviting look. “Care to join me?”

  A few seconds passed before Jazz realized she was talking to him. “You don’t give up, do you?” he said.

  She smiled and waved good-bye in a flirty manner and continued up the stairs. The remaining three sat, resting their tired and sweaty bodies on the living room sofas. Zhinbryo ripped open a package of smoked ham and placed it in his watering mouth. Jazz walked over to join them, sitting next to Chidorli, her hands clasped together as blue rays of light extended outward from them—making another ice sculpture by the looks of it.

  “So any theories for our next move?” asked Jazz.

  “As of right now, we are stranded on this world,” said Onatiasha. “We need the command ship to accept our transmissions.”

  “So we’re just gonna sit here, then?”

  “I will try to make contact again—a secured one, of course. We don’t want them to know our location.” Onatiasha grabbed a lock of her dirty and frizzed purple hair, placing it directly in her line of sight. “If there’s no reply, it’s safe to assume they think we’ve been compromised or that they’ve been compromised.”

  Jazz sighed. “Can’t you send a message back to your home world?”

  “No, only ship communication devices are strong enough for that. Even then it would take years for the message to be received,” she explained. “Only a psionic telepathic link can reach other worlds in real time.”

  “Chidorli is a psionic, right? Can’t she do that, then?” Jazz asked, gazing at Chidorli. Her sculpture was nearing completion. A bird?

  “She’s still inexperienced when it comes to that. She can receive, but sending is unreliable.” Onatiasha fanned her hands in front of her sweating face.

  “Something tells me that’s what it’s gonna boil down to,” said Jazz. Chidorli presented him with an ice sculpture of a dove. He brought the work of art closer to his face to examine it. “She’s got skills—no doubt about that.”

  ………

  A taxicab carrying Alisha, Hannah, and Jason made its way through traffic to Pierre Elliott Trudeau International Airport. Jason sat up front, Alisha and Hannah in the back. Hannah had insisted on sitting directly in the middle, while Alisha sat at the window end. They were running behind schedule, so Alisha just went with it. She said something about her daughter’s gifted mind-set conjuring bad habits. This was no bad habit, however—it was Hannah being polite, allowing their invisible guest from the cosmos to have a seat.

  Phylarlie turned her gaze away from the taxi’s side window to Hannah. She was still dumbfounded that Hannah could see her. Hannah flashed a big, joyous grin at Phylarlie, who waved and smiled back. Alisha saw from the corner of her eye that Hannah’s attention seemed focused on the empty section of the cab. She asked, “What’s got your attention, honey?”

  “Nothing, Mommy—it’s just a beautiful day outside!” exclaimed Hannah.

  Alisha smiled and gazed out her side of the cab. “Yeah, it is a pretty beautiful day.”

  Hannah winked at Phylarlie, placing her index finger over her lips. Phylarlie’s secret was safe with her.

  Chapter 9

  Nine years ago…

  “There is no reason to apologize, Archmage,” said Y’lin.

  Noylarlie stood in the throne room before the ruler of the Hashmedai Empire. Immediately after crossing the space bridge, she sought an audience with Y’lin to explain her two-month disappearance.

  “Jerut needs to better explain things,” said Noylarlie.

  “Indeed.” Y’lin shut off a holographic projection displaying security footage of her ending Yix’s life. “Now on to the next subject.”

  “There’s more?” Noylarlie asked.

  “You have a ship waiting for you in the primary docking bay.” Y’lin sat down on her throne. “It now belongs to you.”

  “My own ship?”

  “Yes, as my Archmage, you do not need to beg for the military to dispatch a transport ship to take you anywhere.” Noylarlie produced a sinister smile at this recent discovery—her own personal ship. “Its construction was completed last week—small and lightweight, of course, so travel through the space bridge will be fast.”

  “Well, thank you, Empress.” With that, Noylarlie swiftly made her way to the elevator.

  Two guards stood, opening the elevator door for her. One stepped in with her to provide an escort. As the elevator door silently slid shut, the guard asked, “Primary docking bay, Archmage?”

  “Yes.”But something popped into her head, and she switched gears. “No, not yet.”

  ………

  Akeia, wearing a bathrobe, marched from his room to the entrance of h
is chamber. Someone wanted to pay him an unexpected visit. The sun had long set, and the stars populated the night to create an almost lightless environment for his personal chambers. A large window centered in the wall showcased the sky above and cities below. Left of the window was his bedroom and bathing area. Just inside the entrance, a spiral staircase led to the second level—a personal observation deck. The second-level ceiling was entirely transparent. Small heaters placed on the sides prevented it from frosting up when it was too cold.

  He opened the door, and from the dimly lit hallway stepped Noylarlie—a face he hadn’t seen in awhile, one that made his heartbeat race significantly faster.

  As the doors shut behind her, he said. “Noylarlie, I just got word that—” Her tongue cut off his sentence as it slid across his lips. Both her hands firmly held and embraced him. When her head slowly backed away to give him some breathing space, he said, “Picking up where we left off two months ago, are we?” His robe fell to the ground.

  “From my point of view, only a day—a long stressful one—but, yes, let’s finish what we started.” She then added, “I need you to forget about the servants you took advantage of during my absence.”

  ………

  The red sun took to the sky, indicating the start of morning. It filled Akeia’s chambers with light, exposing him and Noylarlie lying next to each other naked on his bed. His claw-scratched back faced the ceiling—typical sign that a Hashmedaian male is an excellent lover. Women had a tendency to lose it in the heat of the moment, grazing their partners with their claws. Noylarlie was no exception, adding six sets of new marks to his body.

  She awoke to the sight of her cybernetic implants reflecting sunlight onto the ceiling. She rolled over to embrace Akeia—no response from him, still asleep. She’d have to bathe alone.

  The bathing area was a mere four meters away, essentially part of the room, much like the one in her suite. His tub was larger, however, easily able to fit five or six people. It was made wholly of white porcelain, with hooks in the walls that held a large assortment of robes for both males and females. Noylarlie dipped in, wondering how many servant girls Akeia had charmed into getting naked to bathe with him over the years.