Uprising of the Exiled (Splintered Galaxy Book 2) Read online

  “Dr. Lynn,” Chloe’s voice bellowed on Ella’s earpiece communicator. “We’re ready to head out; just waiting on you.”

  “On my way,” Ella transmitted back as she stepped through the glass sliding doors with her med kit in hand.

  Chapter 6

  ►► Port Shala, Morutrin Prime

  ► Morutrin System

  The contents of the data crystal Jazz swiped displayed to him via his data pad. He sat at the foot of his bed, catching up on his search for answers, still unclothed after the bout of rough sex with Phylarlie an hour earlier.

  Personal log files belonging to Oleric, the owner of the crystal, appeared in the middle of the screen in the form of multiple paragraphs written in the Hashmedai language. Oleric was indeed a Celestial Order member. He had spent the last few months in this system recruiting Hashmedai military personnel who fled the battle of Earth after the Command Ship was destroyed. They couldn’t return to the empire, as they would be beheaded for being deserters, but at the same time, they needed a way to make a living and stay hidden. Ole

  ric’s mission was to make contact with them, offer to protect them in exchange for their membership, and eventually indoctrinate them into the order’s crazy interpretation of the Radiance religion.

  Jazz’s hand interacted with the touch screen, loading additional personal logs, namely his recent ones. His eyebrow rose as he read on. Evidently, Oleric was contacted by a salvager named Avearan Slayer. He was looking to book passage aboard their ship along with his newly recruited Hashmedai ship captain. Their destination? Helspan, the most remote world of the Cerbillon system, better known as Epsilon Eridani to the folks from Earth.

  It makes sense, Jazz thought, looking up at ceiling. Epsilon Eridani was the location of the nearest Hashmedai Space Bridge to Earth, the very same one that teleported him and his Hashmedai friends back to Hashmedai space. Anyone running away from Earth would have had to travel to that system, only to be held up by the long wait times, as the Space Bridge can be used only once every few days or weeks, depending on the strength of its psionic crew. There must have been a huge space traffic jam there, a traffic jam full of deserters who couldn’t afford to be caught. Some of those fleeing ships probably landed on those worlds while waiting for someone to come back and help them out, someone like Oleric and his order friends.

  Jazz grinned at that thought. Gotcha, bitch.

  Then there was that name…Avearan Slayer, that psionic bitch who nearly tagged him and Veloshira. The name seemed vaguely familiar, and not in a good sense. He thought for a few minutes before it finally came back to him. An Assassins’ Guild kill order.

  Motherfucker.

  She was a walking paycheck, and they ran away from her. It’s amazing how well one’s brain can work after some much-needed sex. He couldn’t quite remember why there was a target on her head, just that he and Veloshira considered her not worth their time as long as they continued to work out of the Morutrin system when they first came across Avearan’s wanted page months ago. And to think, she was here the whole fucking time, and assisting someone from the order.

  His deep thoughts were interrupted as his teacup was held before of his face. “Get some clothes on. I’m still hungry,” said Phylarlie.

  Her hands waved the steaming cup in front of his face. Incentive for him to return to the cold dining room—a hot drink to keep him warm. “Nowadays it’s hard to figure out exactly what your body is hungry for,” Jazz said while reaching for the cup.

  “Well if you continue to sit naked like that,” she said, stroking the side of his neck with her cold hands, “I’ll be hungry for something other than food.” Her cold hands shifted down, grabbing his muscular arm. “Seriously, you can read later; let’s eat like the mates we are.”

  “Roommates,” he corrected her prior to sipping his tea. Rabuabin citrus tea, one of his personal favorites.

  Jazz emerged from his bedroom moments later wearing a thick sweater and warm pants. This type of clothing was rare to find on Morutrin Prime and for good reason. The average surface temperature of the planet was a hot thirty-five Celsius with a gravitational pull almost 20 percent stronger than Earth. Loose-fitting clothing was more or less the only option in the markets. That and water-resistant gear—oh, it loved to rain in the southernmost regions.

  He approached the food storage, a white-and-gray cube-shaped object with a glass cover on the top. The storage was basically a miniature version of the cryo status tubes one would find aboard spaceships. Freshly prepared food was stored away inside, placed in suspended animation, and then removed when the user requested something to eat. All meals came out hot and fresh, the exact way they entered originally. Jazz requested their meal from a hand stroke across the holographic interface; the two triangle-shaped plates of Ienthan marinated steak, along with a side of Aryile roasted vegetables, though Phylarlie wasn’t going to touch the vegetables.

  Jazz placed their meal on the table, and sat down across from Phylarlie. “So when are you going to say it?” Jazz asked after taking a bite of his meal.

  “Say what?”

  “‘We shouldn’t be doing this’ or ‘We need to stop this.’” She merely grinned while continuing to eat. “Every time we fuck, you say that.”

  “Yet here we are, eating dinner together like mates.”

  “I thought Hashmedai mates were only official after some kind of ceremony, like human marriage,” Jazz interjected.

  “Only royalty, nobles, and the like participate in that. It’s a means to announce to the empire that those two partners are together,” Phylarlie explained.

  “And as for everyone else?”

  “The person you frequently copulate with over a period of time becomes your mate,” she said. “Provided of course the two have been spending time with each other exclusively.”

  Silence and chewing were all that could be heard for a few minutes as the two attacked their meal. Jazz broke the silence. “Onatiasha and Zhinbryo will be visiting tomorrow.” His veggies were starting to get cool, but that was OK. That was a mighty fine steak. “We’re going to discuss our progress in regard to our investigation into the order.”

  Phylarlie grimaced and said, “Those two are traveling all the way out here for that?”

  “Can’t risk someone intercepting any transmissions, and psionic telepathy is not an option, either,” Jazz said.

  She stared blankly at her plate before revealing, “I’ll pass; I have a few things to look into up north.”

  … … …

  Two days of sunlight was rare during this time of the year at Port Shala and the surrounding area. The afternoon sunshine painted the skies a golden yellow along with the sides of the rising skyscrapers that were in a direct line of sight of the sun. Vuanel Gi Talsyk, the infamous Rabuabin restaurant of Port Shala was located on the seventy-ninth floor of a tower adjacent to Jazz’s apartment. The restaurant itself wasn’t inside of the tower, but rather hanging off the side of it like a massive balcony.

  The establishment was built in the same style new-world Rabuabin restaurants were. A rectangular-shaped patio with tables and chairs placed along the edges of the balcony rails. Directly in the center was the kitchen, a chef and a team of cooks prepared meals, the finished product made its way out to a buffet next to the kitchen, and the waitress would plate one’s requested dish and bring it out to the table. There were no walls; Rabuabins took great pride in their work when it came to food and serving it; thus, making this the best place to dine, especially when it wasn’t raining.

  Jazz entered Vuanel Gi Talsyk from the moderately lit hallway that brought him there. His eyes scanned the busy dining room, and he saw mostly Rabuabin and Linl patrons; they were exiles—Radiance Union races that choose to distance themselves from the union to live independently or were forced out. Two attractive young Rabuabin women wearing a black sequined V-neck blouses and skirts greeted Jazz with warm smiles. He took notice that all the Rabuabin waitress were wearing the same ou
tfit tonight, normally it was a dark blue outfit, not that he cared; they all still looked hot as fuck.

  He was guided to a table in the far corner of the establishment, the only one with Hashmedai at it. As he walked over, he saw that the kinetic shield above had been shut off, probably because it wasn’t raining. Natural sunlight beamed in to illuminate the dining room, except for the corner he ended up taking a seat in. It was blanketed in shade thanks to the hulking pillar that made up one of the four corners.

  Onatiasha and Zhinbryo sat at the table Jazz was guided to. Onatiasha had her dark purple hair tied back into a pony tail and wore a top that resembled a tank top along with black pants. Zhinbryo wore a similar outfit, probably some kind off-duty uniform, Jazz figured as he took a seat with them.

  “Onatiasha, Zhinbryo, it’s been too long,” said Jazz in the Hashmedian language.

  Zhinbryo’s hand stroked his long platinum goatee with an impressed look on his face. “You speak our language now?” asked Zhinbryo. “I am impressed, human.”

  “Those language-learning devices helped out a lot,” said Jazz.

  “I was really hoping to speak in English, however,” Onatiasha said as she fanned her hands toward her sweating face.

  “And why’s that?” Jazz asked, this time speaking in English.

  “Because I’m certain Phylarlie, you, and I are the only ones who can speak it on this planet,” Onatiasha replied in English. “Wouldn’t want these people here to overhear us.”

  “All right, but I ain’t translating for Zinzin,” Jazz said.

  Their waitress, Kalis, gracefully walked over to their table with menus written on Radiance data pads. She had light auburn hair with strawberry blond highlights, the highlights being a suggestion Phylarlie made to her a few months ago when Jazz brought her here. Jazz was surprise to see she took the time to apply the highlights to heir tail as well. She wore a large assortment of jewelry ranging from silvery earrings dangling off the sides of her feline-like ears, dark-blue rings on her curved horns, and gold bracelets around her left wrist.

  Kalis placed the data pads in front of everyone except Jazz. She personally handed him his, then spoke in the Rabuabin language. “Jazz, I should have known, you are the only one who brings Hashmedai here.”

  “We’ll start with something to drink,” said Jazz in the Rabuabin tongue. “Water with extra ice for these two.”

  “Of course. I shall be back,” Kalis said and stepped away toward the center, obtaining what he requested. Jazz’s eyes locked onto her ass…and tail as it extended upward.

  He looked back at his Hashmedai guests, Onatiasha had a shocked look on her face; Zhinbryo had a disgusted look on his. “I cannot believe you were looking at her like that,” said Zhinbryo. “Rabuabin are…quite repulsive. Worst of the five Radiance races, especially with that tail.”

  “I can’t believe you learned how to speak their language so well,” Onatiasha said. “Anything else we should know about you?”

  “A lot can change in a year,” said Jazz with a lighthearted chuckle. He then continued to speak in English. “So whatcha got on the order?”

  She folded her hands together as her orange eyes scanned left to right. Looking out for possible eavesdroppers, she then spoke in English. “They’ve been actively recruiting Hashmedai, mostly those who fled the battle at Earth.”

  “I’ve noticed that myself,” said Jazz.

  “There’s something big being planned,” Onatiasha continued. “A construction project. Agents in the order convinced Empress Y’lin to support this project. I believe these newly recruited Hashmedai are secretly being shipped to this project without the empress knowing.”

  Jazz began to think of the trove of information he recently got his hands on, namely the possibility of more Hashmedai deserters in the Cerbillon system about to be recruited by the Celestial Order. “Helspan has a lot of activity as of late,” Jazz said. “Soon as I get the chance, I’m gonna check it out.”

  “Makes sense—all the deserters who didn’t make it through the space bridge are probably stuck there,” Onatiasha said. “Oh, and one last thing, there’s an agent somewhere within the imperial palace.”

  Jazz released a dejected sigh. He had hoped that the Celestial Order would leave Princess Kroshka out of this. “Great, now Kroshka has to watch her back,” Jazz said.

  Kalis returned to their table with a translucent oval tray in her Rabuabin hands. On top of the tray were three large glasses of water, two with extra ice, as per Jazz’s request, slowly melting away in the heat from the environment. Onatiasha and Zhinbryo’s empty glass cups hit the table as fast as they were delivered to them. The two Hashmedai slouched back for a moment, as they began to savor the effects of their body temperatures lowering.

  “Another?” Jazz asked.

  “Yes,” Onatiasha said while stroking her purple hair back. “For the both of us, I don’t understand how anyone could eat warm food in such hot temperatures.”

  Jazz asked Kalis for a refill of water. As Kalis left, Onatiasha sat up straight to address Jazz. “I almost forgot,” she said. “You’re invited to attend the Conquest Day celebrations on Paryo.”

  Jazz vaguely remembered Conquest Day, a national holiday the Hashmedai celebrate. The invitation to attend, however, came as a surprise. One reason he lived on Morutrin Prime was his Earthly origin. Humans weren’t welcomed in the empire; humans also looked exactly like Linl, members of the Radiance Union, mortal enemies of the Hashmedai Empire. The only reason he was accepted into the Assassins’ Guild, was because of Kroshka’s and Phylarlie’s influence. That and they were really desperate for recruits, nonpsionics, humans with a great reference. Anyone at this point.

  “I thought my human ass wasn’t allowed there,” Jazz said after taking a sip of his water.

  “You are the warrior of Earth who saved Princess Kroshka,” Onatiasha explained.

  “And was told to get the fuck out shortly afterward.”

  Kalis returned with Onatiasha and Zhinbryo’s ice water refills, and once again they downed their refreshing beverages in a state of bliss as Kalis produced a data pad, ready to take their orders.

  “You should attend,” Onatiasha said. “Especially if that Celestial Order agent tries something during the festival.”

  Jazz looked up at Kalis with a half grin on his face and then spoke in her language. “So…I hear Dartalov barriers can open doors?”

  Kalis laughed and then waved her index finger back and forth before his face. “The Rabuabin season has changed!”

  A puzzled and awkward feeling ran across Jazz’s face, causing him to grimace and mumble, “Really.”

  Kalis lowered herself briefly to have her sky-blue eyes connect with Jazz’s…or to flash her cleavage at him. Though there wasn’t a whole lot to see with her cute A-cup chest, can’t blame her for trying. “That’s why we’re all going to be dressed in black here,” Kalis explained. “We’ll be dressed like this until the next seasonal change on Talsyk.” She leaned in closer to whisper softly in his ear, “Talsyk roses, that’s your new quest.” He grinned as she rose back up. “So my father has a wonderful Lejorania roasted hawk as our featured meal tonight. Would you all be interested in trying it?”

  Jazz began to translate Kalis’s recommendations to his Hashmedai friends, as well as the rest of the menu, as it was written in Radiance and Rabuabin language.

  … … …

  ►► Huilo, Morutrin Prime

  ► Morutrin System

  Huilo was the Linl word for rain, more specifically torrential downpour. It was also the name of the largest city facing the west coast of one of Morutrin Prime’s most populated continents. Given how often it rained on Morutrin Prime, there was bound to be at least one city named after this weather phenomenon. As with most largely populated cities on this planet, it was dominated by skyscrapers, drowning out every star in the night sky with their lights and height.

  The city also became an obsession of Phylarlie and her en
dless search for her younger sister, Noylarlie. Phylarlie had spent the better half of the last year since returning from Earth tracking down Noylarlie to the point of making Morutrin Prime her new home, which was also Noylarlie’s last-known location before vanishing. She wasn’t too concerned with her safety per se; after all, Noylarlie was an Archmage, a powerful psionic who apparently made a few people within the empire tremble in her wake.

  Then without warning, she vanished. Sure, she could just be on a deep-space assignment. After all, traveling through space could take years, even centuries, depending on your method of travel. But Archmages were also supposed to check in with Empress Y’lin before and after entering cryostasis or a lengthy space bridge teleport. Noylarlie did no such thing; furthermore, her ship, the Crimson Arrow, was a small ship. Any ship that size shouldn’t take a long time to rematerialize after a space bridge port, a few days at the most. Did someone from her past catch up with Noylarlie? Did Noylarlie follow in her mother’s footsteps, by going rogue? These were the answers Phylarlie hoped to discovery here. However, tonight didn’t seem to be the night, as indicated by the clear drink in Phylarlie’s hand.

  Phylarlie sat at the bar of a loud and highly active establishment. Hashmedai and Linl mostly populated the tables and barstools up front next to Phylarlie. Earsplitting music, sporadic flashing lights painting the walls, and patrons red and green, and of course smoldering heat. The sooner Phylarlie could find Noylarlie, the sooner she could leave this planet and places like this behind.

  Her fingers wiped sweat off her pale blue forehead before finishing her drink. She tried to dress to stay cool by wearing a pair of white shorts, and a sleeveless top. It wasn’t working; neither was the alcohol in her drink.

  She raised and tilted the empty glass to get the attention of the Hashmedai bartender—the only Hashmedai working in this bar and the only one busy taking orders from other Hashmedai. There were two Linl bartenders, but neither of them spoke Hashmedai, and Phylarlie’s knowledge of Radiance speech was limited. Her knowledge of Linl language was nonexistent, except for the swear words, the first words everyone learns. The Hashmedai bartender’s hands elegantly shifted from bottle to bottle, pouring all kinds of drinks that would make people temporarily forget about their problems and possibly wake up naked next to someone they didn’t know. The male-to-female ratio tonight was perfect.