Excerpt for The Dispersal, Part II: The Flight by , available in its entirety at Smashwords


Part 2

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2018 by Greg M. Hall


Smashwords Edition License Notes: Share this story as you wish, but if you use the characters or settings for your own work, please give me proper credit.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

Cover Photo by Joshua Fuller on Unsplash


Other Smashwords Ebooks by Greg M. Hall

Traffic Control (Action)

Stunted (Fantasy)

Closure (Fantasy)

Identity Theft (Fantasy)

Rick’s Hostage (Horror)

The Gig (Horror)

Night Sentry (Horror)

My Pal The Bug #1: For They Know Not… (Sci-Fi)

My Pal The Bug #2: Drug Lab of Death (Sci-Fi)

My Pal The Bug #3: Bait (Sci-Fi)

The Water Peddlers (Sci-Fi)

City of Light (Sci-Fi)

The Epicenter (Sci-Fi)

Martian Water (Sci-Fi)

Revival (Sci-Fi)

The War Where Nobody Died (Sci-Fi)

Meet n’ Greet (Sci-Fi)


In Part I, Imperial soldier Toval is part of a unit charged with resettling the Narixan people, who attempted to rebel against the Emperor’s authority. In the group of “repatriated” citizens are members of the Narixan royal family, including a haughty princess that Toval can’t keep from admiring. When he overhears a midnight scuffle and discovers one of his comrades attempting an assault on the princess, he loses his temper and kills the man.


I’ve just murdered my commanding officer.

The world lurched, and Toval’s stomach readied to spill its contents.

A small hand rested on his head, while another pinched at the base of his neck, instantly switching off the nausea. He turned his head, but could not read the Narixan woman’s features in the dark.

He forced himself to stand while she whispered: “We have to run.”

He tried shaking his head, but that only served to toss the world off-kilter again. “No… we can still sneak back into camp—pretend we slept through the whole thing. Portius can take command—”

She pressed her palm to his face. “He talked to the sentry before he led me here.”

Toval could only stare at her, those arresting eyes now more dangerous in the moonlight than attractive, his mouth working up and down around words that his brain couldn’t supply.

From the direction of the road came scraps of speech: two men spoke with each other. Had he recognized either voice as belonging to Portius, the whole thing might have gone differently; instead, the snort-laugh that Leubens often used after delivering an insult carried through the branches.

With one resolute nod, he stooped to the Polemarch’s body. He reached for Suvak’s belt, but of course his fingertips only clasped an empty scabbard.

Hurry, she whispered, and to reinforce her point, Leubens’ voice came through the branches. “….pretentious arse-face...he’ll see soon enough….”

Toval left the gold chain, the insignia of the rank the man had so recently dishonored, around his commander’s neck; too many questions would be asked if he tried to barter it. He then thought about whatever coins the man kept, but discarded the notion. He instead swept the area around the scuffle looking for the knife the Polemarch had held to the woman’s neck.
A twig snapped nearby, and branches swished against each other.

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