“Affirmative, it will be done,” the voice replied. The transmission ended with a fading whistle.
Zearic had spent two decades in search of both the missing and hidden orbs. This quest had driven him to the depths of madness. To him, the orbs’ transcendent powers were the keys to his unquestioned rule over the system.
After just a few short minutes, the communication alert beeped again, disrupting his thoughts. “Lord Zearic, the queen has declined your request to send forces to Drisal for X88T retrieval,” the voice said.
“What?” Zearic’s eyes blazed with fire and hate. “What is her problem now?” he shouted.
“She says that she wants assurances that her forces are not getting wasted fighting off barbaric rabble for your own grandeur. She wants you to know that she is still queen over the Marck forces.” Zearic secretly worked with the Queen for many years and owed much of his power and influence to her generous cooperation. He still hated her and viewed her as nothing more than a necessary evil.
“You tell her . . .” he started with a harsh rebuttal, and then settled on a tactical approach. “Tell her this is for the lost blue orb, and if she permits me to use her forces, we will assure her access to its power.” Of course, Zearic thought quietly to himself, he would never share such power with anyone, especially the queen.
“Yes, Lord Zearic, right away.” The communication faded out again.
Zearic gazed back at the dark figure. “She has her plans, and we have ours. We will follow her just a little longer to further our cause. Return to your forward command and await my signal. In light of these events, we must hasten our plans.”
CHAPTER 4
S lowly recovering from being smacked onto the ground with raging force, the blackness began to subside. Crix found that he could not move his arms or legs and a sharp pain in his neck throbbed. He could hear breathless screams crying out. Crix’s thoughts were still foggy; he felt as though he had awoken from a terrible nightmare. Yet, as his eyelids opened and adjusted to the light around him, he saw this was all too real.
The young woman pilot from the sinking ship was located a few meters in front of him buried up to her neck in soil and mud. She was unable to move, and it had become apparent that he was in the same situation. The cold ground felt like a heavy, wet blanket had wrapped around his skin and tightened with every move he made. She gasped and struggled while looking off to her right side.
From the corner of his eye, he observed an unnerving sight: a large number of partially flesh-covered and fully skeletonized heads were scattered on the surface; the area was crawling with extremely large, lively, translucent spiders.
This must be where the savages of this land cruelly dispose of trespassers.
He watched the spiders feeding off of the bits of flesh that remained on the skulls. The odor that emitted from this death hole was similar to the stink glands of a male droona beast. The domed cavern in which they found themselves buried and abandoned had an opening in the ceiling that allowed a single beam of light to illuminate the horrible scene. The cautious spiders appeared to avoid this direct light, which fortunately fell upon Crix and the frightened pilot, at least for the moment.
It is just a matter of time before the light moves away and the spiders make their way over to us.
He observed them quietly. The abnormally large spiders were mostly clear with tiny, black eyes; they gnashed and crunched as they picked away at the flesh and carried it down a nearby hole in the cavern wall. The young pilot, with a look of wild terror in her eyes, noticed that Crix was awake.
“You’ve got to get us out of this!” she shouted.
“I don’t know how; I can’t budge!” Crix replied, frustrated over his helplessness.
One of the hungry spiders started to approach the young woman, but it reared back and hissed when it came to the edge of the bright light. She struggled to free herself with desperate futility. Another spider, eager to acquire its besieged prey, leaped through the light and landed on her head. She thrashed her head around and knocked the spider on its back; it reared up aggressively for another attack. Several other spiders scurried in to assist. She had no hope to fight them all off in her current state. However, Crix noticed, she looked like she had the willingness and fight within her to give it a valiant effort.
The spiders pounced into the air to swarm her, but something quickly knocked them away before they could reach their target. The aggressive attackers flailed brutally against the walls. Crix heard a strong but familiar grunt, and then he saw their unlikely rescuer, the saber boar, as he heroically charged after their voracious aggressors. He must have sniffed out Crix’s location and found him in the cavern.
Several spiders converged on the boar as he snapped his head wildly back and forth; he easily knocked and bashed them around like young Andor’s play dolls.
From a small hole in the cavern wall, arachnids poured into the area. The boar smashed many of them into the ground and crunched their outer shells, sending bodily fluids spewing across the cavern floors and walls. The onslaught continued as even more highly agitated and massively large predators flushed out of the hole and swarmed the boar. It squealed in angst over its mounting adversaries.
Crix knew that, as vicious as this beast may be, he could not fend off this many. The relentless attackers had begun to pile up on the boar and bite chunks of flesh from his back and sides. Crix once more made the decision that he must use the orb’s power.
He released himself to the orb’s power, and once again, he felt it surge through every muscle within his body. It tingled like electrical energy across his skin. He looked up at the high ceiling and imagined himself there. The area started to shake, and his shoulders broke through the packed mud and dirt. He rose up slowly into the air surrounded by a vibrant blue glow. The saber boar belted out one last groan as it exhaled its last breath, and the spiders then started back to their original prey, the young Mendac woman.
Crix pounced down and began striking the spiders back from their intended meal. They jumped at him from every direction, but with his strength and speed hardened by the orb’s energy, he was able to repel them easily and efficiently. Several of the spiders surged through his offense and gave him a nasty chomp, but the orb’s energy shield minimized the damage to his body. During this short battle, he found them to be little match for his enhanced assault.
The quarrel soon ended. Dead and incapacitated spiders littered the cavern. Crix looked down toward the dark-haired, green-eyed stranger who, from her expression, was astonished over what she had just witnessed.
“You’re a Tolagon?”
“A wha . . . are, uh . . . No, not really.” He bashfully shrugged; he wanted her to be impressed but did not want to be deceitful.
“Well . . . get me out of here, quickly!” she demanded in a somewhat irritated tone.
Crix scanned the area and was unable to find anything that could easily help him free her from the soil. He thought of using the orb but was uncertain about his ability to control the power and was concerned that he might injure her in the process. Therefore, he attempted to allow the orb’s energy to release into his arms and hands. He wedged his glowing blue hands into the compacted soil and easily pierced down underneath her arms and pulled her out.
Much of her flight suit ripped away due to the heavy weight of the mud sticking to the loose material. She peeled the rest of her torn flight suit off and tossed it on the ground. Beneath it, Crix noticed that she wore a black, tightly fitted outfit and was captivated; the fabric gradually transitioned to a nearly sheer material at her legs that she accessorized with a reflective grey belt around the waist and corresponding grey ankle boots with flat soles. She adorned herself in the fashion of the youthful female urbanites of Teinol, the epicenter of art and style of Soorak. Crix found it strange that she was piloting such a ship; pilots were not usually so fashionable, yet he was also pleasantly surprised.
Spellbound by her silhouette, he instantly snapped
back from his thoughts as two hulking Monoglades crawled in through the entrance of the cavern. As they entered, they stood erect with long, grey, muscular legs, dressed in various beast hides, and wielding what appeared to be long, blunt objects that consisted of mammoth-sized bones infused with crude spikes. Their fanatical eyes were cloudy with little sign of color, which gave them an almost lifeless appearance, as well as little hope that they would be reasonable. They both took an offensive posture and carried their Mongolic weapons drawn behind their wiry-haired heads.
Crix and the woman stepped back, trying to keep their distance but quickly ran out of space behind them. Filled with bravado over the presence of his new companion, Crix charged up and lunged toward the closest one. The Monoglade lurched back and swung his weapon; he smacked Crix in the chest and launched his body into the wall. As he hit the wall, he felt everything inside him smack together. To his astonishment, he was physically unharmed due to the orb’s shielding power but still had the wind knocked out of his lungs from the shock of the blow.
He remained down on a single knee, attempting to catch his breath. He felt the tightness and burning in his lungs. The other Monoglade charged after the young pilot, and she brazenly squeezed herself down a nearby spider hole and narrowly escaped. Crix labored back onto his feet again and, this time, carefully approached the Monoglade. Just as the creature swung his bone club, Crix ducked to evade, and then struck him between his legs, hoping that these creatures were vulnerable in the same places most were. The Monoglade let out a beast-like roar and fell to its knees.
Two more Monoglades entered the cavern, likely alerted by the commotion. Crix hastily slid face-first into the small spider hole after his new companion. One of the Monoglades smashed its club against the hole in an attempt to splatter Crix, just missing his legs. He squirmed with his elbows down the narrow tunnel with a feeling of temporary solace that the enlarging horde of Monoglades outside could not fit through the passageway. Space was tight and the ground somewhat spongy. His elbows sunk into the ground as he moved forward. It was cold and constricted his movement.
He continued to wiggle forward, and the growls of frustration from the Monoglades outside faded into the distance. Ahead of him was darkness to the point of pitch black with still no sign of the enigmatic and elusive young woman.
Who is she? Crix thought.
He kept going forward; space had become so tight that he had to suck in his chest in order to squeeze through the murky tunnel. A musky stench with a hint of decay permeated from the air ahead.
He questioned, Did she go down this hole? He had to know.
“Hey, are you there?” There was no reply. His mind started to race. Where is she?
All of a sudden, he came upon a drastic downward slant. He frantically gripped the walls to keep himself from sliding. The slant leveled off, and his face pushed into what felt like the bottom of someone’s shoes. Unexpectedly and rudely, one of the shoes kicked him back. He then noticed that there was a trace amount of light bleeding through the tunnel ahead.
“Don’t . . . move,” she whispered back to him.
Crix was confused as to why she had stopped. “What are you doing?” A minute of silence went by, and he grew restless by her lack of reply.
“One of those spiders is in the tunnel . . . right in front of me. It is staring right at me. I’m hesitant to move,” she said in a remarkably calm voice. Inside this tight space, she understood that she could do little to fend it off or flee.
The ground above them had begun to shake, and the tunnel vibrated. A heavy rumbling rolled in and out from the surface. Fearful that the tunnel might collapse, Crix loudly whispered out the first thing he could think. “Just . . . punch it in one of its eyes as hard as you can.”
“Are you nuts?” she sarcastically questioned.
“Just do it!” The ground shuttered violently, and fragments of the tunnel showered down upon them and caused him to cover his eyes.
“Okay, fine!” she relented before thrusting her fist sharply into one of its eyes. Crix was happy and surprised she acted so quickly. The spider scurried back into the darkness. “It’s gone!”
“Follow it!” Crix hurriedly pushed her forward. They both struggled through a small opening that led out into a large cave, which was barely illuminated. They saw shapes and movement but little detail. It was a relief that they could finally stand up.
Another shockwave hit the ground, and the tunnel behind them collapsed. She wrinkled her face over the pungent odor of decay. The air was stale and old. However, the walls danced with life, and they observed a strange movement. A column directly in front of them appeared to shift side to side, especially when the rumblings above intensified. They both pressed their backs up against a wall, uncertain of what laid ahead.
Crix noticed two other similar columns in the cave, possibly more. The lighting was poor. He saw a steep dropoff on the cave floor and carefully slid forward to have a look at how far the drop was to the bottom. As he peered over the edge, he observed thousands of those delightful, flesh-eating spiders they loved so much from their earlier situation and quickly noticed that the alerted spiders were scampering across the walls, heading in his direction. He slowly looked up, and then carefully backed away with a look of terror on his face. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
“What? What? What did you see?” she questioned.
“It’s better if you don’t know.” He grabbed her soft hands and placed them around his neck. “Hop up and don’t let go.” His body gave off a brilliant blue glow, and with a couple of quick steps to the ledge, he leaped across the cavern to reach a small ledge on the far side. Just as he made the jump, a strong feeling of uncertainty flashed through his mind. His glow dimmed. He just missed the ledge and grasped the edge with the tips of his fingers.
Above them, a lurid hiss echoed throughout the cavern. The woman tightened her grip as she gazed up and let out a panicked breath. The hissing intensified; Crix struggled to keep hold of the ledge as his fingers slipped and burned against the gritty stone. Perched above them, a gigantic spider encompassed the area; its long legs curled down the walls and past the ledge he frantically clung to. It was now apparent that the swaying columns they observed earlier were massive spider legs. Its rubicund body was large with a round abdomen that swarmed with life as thousands of smaller spiders crawled about the giant mother. The smaller spiders clumsily climbed over each other due to the crowded space and spilled off the abdomen onto the ceiling and walls.
The “mother” spider gave another loud hiss and lowered its body down into the cavern. Crix’s grip started to fail.
She whispered in his ear. “Just believe.” Her breath tickled and made the hairs on his neck stand straight up. A chill chased down his spine.
Reenergized, he focused on the ledge above them. With a quick jolt, they sprung up and landed squarely upon the ledge. She hopped down, and both looked over the swarming cavern, and then, with one glance directly at the large red spider’s jaws which hung wide open in front of them, it screeched and hissed as it chomped in their direction. Still charged from the orb, Crix’s reflexes allowed him the ability to spin around, grab the Mendac woman, and dash into a narrow path that led away from the precarious ledge. The spider gnashed down again, crashing its mouth into the passage opening. Enraged, it crunched back and forth at the opening in an attempt to consume its prey. Dozens more of the smaller spiders jumped from the abdomen and poured into the passage after them.
Pushing her forward, they scraped and clawed their way through the uneven and tight passage as the spiders took chase. They frantically reached an incline and climbed a few jagged steps to the top, only to find a dead end.
“There’s no way out of here!” She panicked and pounded her fists at the rocky end then turned around to face her fate. Crix positioned himself between her and the fast-moving, enthusiastic spiders. He charged up for a last stand. She braced herself for the battle.
An unexpected explo
sion jolted them to the ground, and a wide-open exit appeared behind the shocked woman. The light from the sky blinded their eyes. The world around them fell into absolute chaos. The jolting of blaster fire and detonations shattered their senses. Then, the screeching noises from the spiders subsided, the dust settled, and everything gave way to a sudden silence.
CHAPTER 5
T he two slowly rose to their feet and pushed the fallen rocks and loose debris out of their way. The female pilot blocked her hands over her face and tried to adjust to the sudden blast of daylight. Together, they observed several Marck troopers blazoned in red.
The troopers glistened in the sunlight; their rifles pointed in a threating manner. One of them dropped its rifle and cautiously approached Crix, clenching a circular apparatus in its hand; the Marck trooper pointed it at his chest. The device spun around and illuminated, as did the orb in Crix’s chest.
“Orb located,” it sounded off, its voice deep and refined, but it still had a mechanical undertone that would discern it from a living being.
Outside, the ground smoldered, and dead Monoglades were scattered across the area, their hapless bodies charred with anguished expressions frozen on their faces.
“Load them onto the transport,” a nearby Marck ordered. Its armor appeared slender yet somehow still unwieldy.
Hovering just above the ground a little distance away was a heavily guarded ship that waited with its cargo elevator lowered. Troubled, Crix took notice of the fire and billowing smoke that sprinkled across the region. The ground still shook as the Marck legion carried out its campaign of subduing Drisal. Crix flexed as though he was about to charge the power of the orb within his chest, but his new friend quickly grabbed his arm.
“Don’t, it’s the Knactor Legion. They have a notorious reputation and will not hesitate to kill us both; besides, there are too many. We need to wait for a better opportunity.” She recognized their legion colors and insignias. Crix noticed that she was highly perceptive as well as discerning for someone her age.
Age of the Marcks Page 4