Parcisei finished his conversation with the Vorcambreum, and Noylarlie approached him. “Waiting on our guide to the command center,” he said.
“Nobody seems to care that I’m Hashmedai,” she mentioned.
“We are enlightened, unlike the rest of the inhabitants of the Radiance Union and Hashmedai Empire.” He turned to face her. “Hopefully, you soon will be, too. If not, well…thanks for the help you’ve provided thus far.”
A sliding door ahead swung open as the monorail departed. A Rabuabin woman with olive skin emerged, wearing a gray jumpsuit. Parcisei walked over to her, and the two spoke in the Radiance Union language. A moment later, he produced the data crystal from his back pocket—the same one he had acquired from the Linl station—and held it before her. The woman smiled and stared at Noylarlie before speaking again to Parcisei.
The Rabuabin approached Noylarlie, speaking in the Hashmedai language while placing her left hand on her right shoulder. “Second-class ranger, Za Xyniea—your acquaintance is recognized. Follow me—we have one last task for you.”
The three entered the front doorway, which led to a massive promenade filled with markets, entertainment centers, bars, and dining halls. Most of the life there was made up of Radiance Union races, and a small handful was Hashmedai. Some shopped, some socialized, and others seemed to be heading to someplace important. Noylarlie’s eyes filled with confusion at the sight before her. Radiance and Hashmedai living in harmony? Can such as thing be real? Why does it only exist here?
The three entered a nearby elevator, which ascended several floors up to the command center of the base. A massive window on the front of the command center revealed the outside world. They were much higher up in the mountain range, the view providing a breathtaking image of the desert below. The crew of the command center buzzed about, overseeing operations of the base and other outposts throughout the planet.
Xyniea and Parcisei moved over to an empty computer terminal off to the far end of the center. Noylarlie followed behind, taking in the sights from the window before standing behind Xyniea and Parcisei as they gazed into the computer screen. The two rambled on in the Radiance language about the contents of the data crystal.
Parcisei arose from the computer to focus on Noylarlie. “We have a plan to get your ship into the Lejorania system without getting shot down…but you’re not going to like it.”
Noylarlie crossed her arms. “Speak,” she said.
“Well, Xyniea and I are going to take over your ship and slap a slave collar on you.” Noylarlie was not impressed, and fury filled her face. Parcisei continued, “Just for looks, of course—we need to trick the union into thinking we’ve captured you. This way we can fly into Sanctum and finish the last leg of this mission.”
“I don’t like those collars,” she mumbled.
“Yeah, like I said, I knew you weren’t going to like it.”
“But it’s the only way,” said Xyniea, taking her attention off the screen. “We don’t have any ships to spare. This base technically isn’t supposed to exist. It’s imperative we get there quickly as well.”
“What’s so important about Lejorania Sanctum?” asked Noylarlie.
“The Abyssal Explorer will launch from there to the human world,” said Xyniea. “I need to be onboard, along with this data crystal, or decades of work will be for nothing.”
“Then let’s head out now,” Noylarlie suggested.
“I need to finalize a few things before we head out,” said Xyniea. “I will contact you when I’m ready.”
………
Noylarlie floated in zero gravity onboard the Crimson Arrow’s sleeping chamber, just below the cockpit. A wet towel floated next to her naked body, as she had just finished “bathing” by wiping her body clean with the towel—the quickest and most effective way to do it in space. The chamber consisted of a small tubular room, completely padded with soft fabric along the walls. No need for a bed when in zero-g after all; all one needed to do was lie back and fall asleep. In the event the ship was on a planet, a pullout bed stored away in the wall could be utilized.
Her mind was connected to the ship’s computer, and she almost forgot about the newly translated data she swiped earlier from the Linl station. It was the perfect time to go over those details while she waited for Xyniea to prepare.
The file was accessed and streamed to her mind. As she suspected, it was some kind of dossier listing. The file started by mentioning that all the people listed had pledged allegiance to the true voice of the gods. Each dossier listed the name, age, birthplace, and length of time in the Celestial Order. Whatever the fuck that means. Some names were tagged as “killed in action,” others as “captured.” Without a doubt it was a militant group of some sort—Jerut’s associates—and they now had a name.
Familiar profiles showed up: Admiral Himton Strongfist, Captain Jerut Whitestar, second-class ranger Za Xyniea, third-class ranger Ary Parcisei, Lord Hasiv, Yix Goldlock, and of course Noylarlie’s mother, Archmage Iolysta Frosttouch. Well, that explains why all the Hashmedai and Radiance below walked hand in hand. Converting Hashmedai to accept Radiance Union gods was probably the only way for the two groups to work together. That still didn’t explain why the Radiance members within the Celestial Order fought with the union, however. Another profile caught her attention—Lieutenant Yominv Crossblade, her sister Phylarlie’s father. He hasn’t aged much.
Mother had frequently showed Phylarlie and Noylarlie holograms of their fathers when she was younger. Neither of the two sisters got a chance to meet them in person. Yominv worked in the military and was constantly on the move, most likely in frequent cryo or space bridge oblivion. This would explain why he was more or less the same age as Noylarlie. Perhaps it was his influence that got Mother to join these people.
An additional section listed Hashmedaian assassins who were authorized to receive guild missions requested by the Celestial Order. Noylarlie didn’t recognize any of the names. Good, this means Phylarlie isn’t involved in this.
Noylarlie’s eyes shut uncontrollably as the need for real sleep kicked in. Her mind disconnected from the computer as she pushed her naked body into a comfortable position for falling asleep.
………
Three months had passed, and Noylarlie found herself with Parcisei and Xyniea in the Crimson Arrow’s cryo chamber after waking from their long slumber. Noylarlie reluctantly stood still as Xyniea floated toward her with a slave collar in her hands. Xyniea positioned the collar to fit around her neck, while Noylarlie emotionlessly looked her directly in the eyes.
“Don’t worry,” said Xyniea. “The collar isn’t active. You can still use your powers.”
“Just, uh, don’t use them on us,” Parcisei added. “Remember, we’re all on the same team here.”
The collar gripped around her neck, and five years of painful memories flooded her mind in an instant. Xyniea could tell by her facial expression that Noylarlie wasn’t feeling right. “Are you OK?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” Noylarlie replied sternly, extending her arms forward.
Xyniea secured Noylarlie’s arms with handcuffs, and the three floated toward the cockpit. Xyniea sat in the main front seat, while Parcisei and Noylarlie kept to the back, thus giving the illusion that Noylarlie was their prisoner. The ship was still in control of Noylarlie, as her mind was connected to the ship’s computer, piloting it toward Lejorania Sanctum.
Xyniea fingered her data pad, sending out a system wide message as well as a recording of what was happening in the cockpit. The Radiance Union ships were all convinced to stand down, allowing her to continue on course. A few ships made contact, congratulating Xyniea on the conquest, and others requested to see more footage of the captured Hashmedai psionic. As such the setup in the cockpit remained, while the Crimson Arrow propelled forward. The ship was drenched in the sunlight of two bright stars.
A map of the system streamed to Noylarlie’s mind, showing Lejorania Sanctum as the second pl
anet orbiting the largest star and the brightest of the pair. “We’re almost there,” she reported.
“Once we arrive, we’ll land at the main space port in Unity City,” Xyniea explained, removing a strand of brown floating hair caught on her horns. “There will be a transport waiting to take you to a nearby prison camp.”
“I’m excited already.” Sarcasm was strong in Noylarlie’s voice.
“Once I’m aboard, teleport back to your ship and get the hell out of here,” Xyniea finished.
“You’ll have to be fast. The cruisers in the system will be alerted to your ship,” Parcisei said to Noylarlie. “You remember what happened the last time we tried that.”
Lejorania Sanctum came into view, a small jungle world with four large continents—two in the northern hemisphere, one in the southern, and a smaller one directly under the equator on the opposite side of the world. In orbit floated the primary starport, a large space station where ships docked to refuel, resupply, or swap out crew members. One Radiance cruiser was docked—the Abyssal Explorer.
Xyniea pointed to the eastern coastline of the northern continent as their destination. Noylarlie let out a sigh of relief, as the northern continents were cooler compared to the other two, according to her planetary scans, which didn’t say much since this still was a tropical world throughout.
The Crimson Arrow made its descent toward the surface, flying through a thick coverage of clouds as gravity took hold of the three occupants of the ship. White was all that could be seen out the cockpit window for a few minutes, and eventually water splattered across window—it was raining. The cloud coverage vanished to unveil a city built along the eastern coastline. Beyond the walls of the city toward the west was the greenness of a substantially large jungle. Rainwater splashed against the Crimson Arrow as Noylarlie commanded it to land at the space port.
Three Linl rangers wearing gray jumpsuits and armed with magnetic rifles could be seen off to the side. No doubt these were union soldiers, coming to take Noylarlie into custody…or so they thought.
Xyniea got out of her seat and walked toward Noylarlie. “Ready?”
“No,” Noylarlie bluntly replied, standing up and extending her cuffed hands toward Xyniea.
The main entrance to the Crimson Arrow swung open as heavy rainfall hit the ground. A wave of thick humid air raced in, adding to Noylarlie’s discomfort. The three Linl stood before them. Xyniea pulled on Noylarlie’s arm, dragging her out into the rain. Parcisei followed behind, gripping his rifle.
A few words in the Radiance Union language were exchanged between Xyniea and the Linl before she handed Noylarlie over to them. The Linl aggressively grabbed and tossed Noylarlie into the back of the transport. Frustration filled Noylarlie’s face as she resisted the urge to burn them all alive with her mind.
Parcisei joined them onboard the transport and Xyniea walked out of sight when the doors slammed shut. That reminded Noylarlie—the same should be done for the Crimson Arrow. Her mind was still connected to it, so she ordered the ship’s systems to shut the doors in lockdown. Union members would no doubt want to climb aboard to tinker with the computer and flight logs.
Chapter 13
The remains of a military transport truck were scattered across an empty road just outside of Kandahar, Afghanistan. Jazz, in his Canadian Armed Forces uniform and with his C8 pointed forward, approached alone, knowing full well enemy combatants lurked close by. Flames erupted from the wreckage, body parts of fallen comrades being flung in random directions. He stepped closer. Perhaps there are survivors who need help.
A voice called out, “You’re never around when I need you!”
He stopped, moving his head from side to side. No one was around—something wasn’t right. “You don’t care about me, and you don’t care about Hannah!” It was Alisha’s voice.
That was when it hit him—none of this was right. Afghanistan was part of his past. He was no longer in the Canadian Armed Forces. Yet there he was, like the hands of time had turned back.
“Jake.” It was another voice directly behind him.
He turned around, and Hannah stood behind him. “Get out of here; it’s dangerous!” he shouted to her.
She simply smiled and then spoke in a language he didn’t understand. Her hand waved good-bye and turned to run away from him. Concerned for her safety, Jazz tried to run after her. His feet moved, but his body didn’t, as if the road below him were a treadmill.
“Stop, Hannah, stop!” he cried out, but soon after she was out of visual range.
Another voice shouted, “Come back! It's not safe.”
Jazz turned his head to the left, and suddenly the landscape changed to an empty marketplace in Baghdad, Iraq—strange considering Jazz had never been to Iraq. His eyes landed on a woman wearing a US Marine Corps uniform. She, too, was running in the same spot and not moving. She faced Jazz, revealing her name printed on her uniform—Vaughan.
………
Jazz promptly awoke from his sleep. The early morning sunshine piercing through the windows painted his naked body with its light. He lay on the floor next to the couch, attempting multiple times to get up from the ground. The hangover that overtook his body was brutal.
The back of Onatiasha’s heel collided with the side of his head. Looks like she got the good end of the deal. She had spent the night on the couch instead of the floor. After attempt number seven, he got to his feet, surprised to see Onatiasha’s nude body on the couch.
“Oh, fuck” was all he had to say.
She opened her eyes and slowly sat up. Her hands passed through her purple hair, and she asked, “What…happened?”
Jazz looked at the vodka bottle on the floor. “That empty bottle probably knows.”
“It’s empty? Oh no.” She noticed Jazz was naked as well.
“Yeah, so—”
“It didn’t happen!” she exclaimed, getting up to gather her clothes, which were scattered about.
Jazz grinned, watching her panic. “I think it did.”
“It didn’t happen!” she repeated, promptly entering the washroom with her clothes in hand.
“Nice tits,” he muttered to himself while putting his pants back on.
He reached down to pick up his shirt when suddenly he felt a slight stinging pain across multiple parts of his back. His head craned to view the back of his shoulder, where there were scratch marks. Those sure as hell weren’t there yesterday, you frisky little minx. She could deny it all she wanted, but the two of them waking up naked, with scratch marks on his back and love juice residue on his cock meant one thing—history was made. He was the first human male to have sex with an alien. Eat your heart out, Captain Kirk.
Zhinbryo stepped down the staircase into the living room area, taking notice of Jazz’s shirtless body…and scratch marks along his back. Zhinbryo made a loud grunting sound. Onatiasha emerged from the washroom with her clothes on, tying her hair into a ponytail. Zhinbryo rushed toward her, speaking the Hashmedai language, and he didn’t seem happy. Onatiasha retorted, pointing her finger in his face before extending it toward the staircase. Zhinbryo replied but was instantly cut off by an angry Onatiasha, who shouted and hissed her fangs at him. Zhinbryo reluctantly turned and walked back upstairs, shouting something at Jazz.
“Good morning to you too, Zinzin,” said Jazz.
“Put your shirt on,” Onatiasha demanded of Jazz. More footsteps were heading down the staircase. “Now.”
Jazz complied, and seconds later Kroshka was at the bottom of the stairs, gazing at both Jazz and Onatiasha. “What happened? Is everything OK?” she asked.
Everything was coming together, as Kroshka was beginning to understand. Jazz replied, “Nothing happened.” Onatiasha was marking her territory last night.
Onatiasha crossed her arms and faced Jazz. Jazz did the same, noting her smile. Good, we’re still cool, he thought before taking a seat to watch TV, the news in particular.
Kroshka sat next him. His focus was on the
TV screen, particularly when the channel was switched to CNN. The headline on the screen read “Radiance attacked at UN assembly,” aired with images of Phylarlie and two other Hashmedaian assassins fighting the Radiance visitors at the UN headquarters. His jaw dropped, literally.
“That looks like Phylarlie,” said Kroshka.
Jazz waved his hand to Onatiasha, signaling her to come over. “What do you make of this?” he asked her.
Onatiasha’s eyes looked at the footage of Phylarlie, then on her target. “That’s…General Hilemei.”
“Who the fuck’s that?” asked Jazz.
“He’s led a lot of devastating battles against our people and supposedly played a role in a battle that resulted in the death of our emperor,” explained Onatiasha. “Many assassins were ordered to deal with him, but none succeeded.”
“Guessing this is another attempt at him,” Jazz said.
Onatiasha nodded. “It could very well be Phylarlie’s real mission. She might have known he was coming.”
………
“He said that the president is unable to speak with us right now,” Odelea translated for Gengei.
Gengei, Odelea, and Xyniea stood just outside of their transport ship, which was parked on the White House lawn. After the ambush they returned to the White House, hoping to speak with the president and his top advisers to reassure them everything was now under control. An increased security presence surrounded the White House, including military vehicles patrolling both land and air.
Gengei nodded his head to the guards and then returned to the transport with Odelea and Xyniea. Gengei took a seat in the cockpit, his four eyes filled with frustration.
“Perhaps we should return to the Abyssal Explorer,” suggested Odelea.
“No, we must fix this,” said Gengei.
“The humans don’t care,” said Xyniea, moving to the back. “They now see us as creatures who brought the Hashmedai threat to them.”
Xyniea established communication with someone from the Abyssal Explorer. She spoke softly, and Gengei turned his head face her. “What are you doing?” he asked.
Celestial Ascension (Splintered Galaxy Book 1) Page 22