Corin entered cautiously. He passed several security-class Marcks as he made his way down the corridor to the control center. Their heads turned slowly, following his approach and passing. He entered the command center room and observed eight more security Marcks standing by. Plexo sat on a small, metal stool in the center of the room. Several other science and engineering officer’s bodies laid motionless on the floor. Plexo’s head was down, and the look of dejection resonated from his face as he looked up at Corin.
Next to Plexo stood a tall, slender figure dressed in a UMO Galactic Marshal uniform. His face was creased and pitted on the left side; the remnants of old scars that cut down from his brow to his cheek. Zearic! His left eye shimmered red against the reflective light as he turned his head. The synthetic eye was a replacement of his original that was lost long ago when one of his immoral lab experiments went wrong. Corin’s turbulent history with Zearic hit a boiling point at the start of the Thraxon invasion of Nathasia.
“Zearic, who do you think you are? You seize my rear science command post and kill my science officers! My command authority comes directly from Galactic Marshal Singsly, and I will witness your execution for this!” Corin shouted with his index finger pointed straight into Zearic’s face.
“And my authority comes from Realm Chancellor Caabor himself. Singsly’s command has been absolved, and full transitional command has been granted to me!” Zearic snapped with contempt, his voice froggy like someone who shouts often.
“You should have no authority!” Corin’s eyes flared. “Your lust for the yellow orb has already destroyed everything around us. Deceiving me into using my influence over the UMO console to defer aid to this world was your lowest point until now. I have done everything within my strength to free this world from your betrayal, and it has cost me my soul.” He shook his head, frustrated. “Has the UMO become so corrupted that they would put a power-mongering sociopath in such a high-profile role?”
It’s bad enough that he controls the largest Marck weapons development corporation in the Oro System, but now he is also in control of the unified and mechanized system forces? Corin fumed to himself.
Ignoring the insult and accusation, Zearic turned and pulled up a dead science officer that was slumped over a control panel. He let his body crash down limp to the floor. “As your superior, I am most grieved by your lack of subordination. You directly violated a priority one command to hold and preserve the Meutor Valley at all costs. All costs!” He violently slammed his fist down on upon the panel, cracking the display. “Do you even understand what that means? The objective is worth more than your lives!” Zearic took a sturdy, harsh kick to the body on the floor as if to show his opinion over its value. “Instead, what I see is a cowardice commander that has abandoned his principal objective for the sake of self-preservation!”
“Self-preser . . . ? You don’t have any idea!” Corin’s face turned red with frustration. “My legion has been fighting and dying to preserve this valley and this burned-out world for six months straight, and no one has had the courage to come out here and tell us why this particular valley is so damned important!”
“Not that I owe you any explanation, but that valley held the last reported location of the lost yellow orb according to the Nathasian official we interrogated. At least it was until you sent it to complete oblivion. Now, we’re uncertain it even exists.” Zearic had a look of hate and discontent pouring from his eyes.
Corin pushed out a heavy exhale in disgust. “Of course, I should have known. You’re a lunatic.” He was too exhausted to get further into a verbal confrontation.
All of this loss, all of this pain . . . for what? Zearic’s power grab and his quest to be the unquestioned dictator of the Oro system.
“You’re not even supposed to be in control of this self-governing mechanical force. Wasn’t that the deal?”
“Until the transition is fully completed, they are mine! Right now, you are only slowing this transition.” Zearic pulled a thermal blade from his jacket and held it at Plexo’s neck. “And this piece of toxic waste will be the next to pay for your costly blunders, as the one who executed the illicit command to decimate the valley.” The blade singed Plexo’s neck as it burned a black line in his glowing skin. Plexo barely flinched as he lowered his head as if to accept his fate.
“Marshal or not, killing Plexo will be the last thing you’ll ever do! You’re responsible for far too many lives lost already. I’ll bury you on this forsaken world! That you can count on!” Corin assured as he intently stared at him from across the room. The threat against Plexo instantly reignited his fighting spirit.
Zearic cracked a self-assured grin. “If you care so much for the remnants of your pitiful throng, you will back down and do as I command. The Marck force outside has been ordered to exterminate your troops if there are any signs of insubordination during the handoff of military control.”
Corin, now furious, stepped back, kicked over a table, and screamed out of frustration. Scientific instruments scattered across the floor as the Marck guards raised their weapons toward Corin. His eyes welled up with seething anger and emotion, but he regained his composure. He could not live with the guilt of more lives lost because of him.
“No . . . I will take full responsibility and ownership. The destruction of the valley falls on me.” He looked down with dismay. “My soldiers were following my orders.”
Zearic lowered his blade. “Good, and with your cooperation, they will be spared and allowed to return to their loved ones.” He stepped forward with his hand extended toward Corin. “First, you will relinquish your orb, and you will be hereby stripped of your title as the Tolagon of Soorak.”
“Commander, no!” Plexo pleaded. “Don’t!” It was at this moment that he realized that his deceptions were returning to inflict their inevitable toll on everyone and everything he believed in. This was not the Luminar way. His eyes welled up with tears for the first time in many years. He felt like an empty shell.
“Silence, you toxic wretch!” Zearic shouted at Plexo. “In addition, the Vico Legion will be disbanded, and you will be court-martialed for your insubordination. Perhaps the council will take pity on you and allow you to spend your remaining days in the Dispor moon as a subterranean scab harvester.”
“Do as you will with me, but my soldiers and my family are to be spared,” Corin insisted.
“Oh . . . they will. Now start by handing over your orb.” Zearic gestured his hand out.
Corin cupped both hands together inward in front of his chest, summoning the blue orb from his body and into his hands. The blue, iridescent light emerged from his chest and gave out a high-pitched squeal as if reluctant to let go of its host.
Zearic’s eyes lit up as he snapped his finger and motioned to the security Marck behind him. The Marck holstered his blaster and grabbed a clear box that had a solid metal base from a container nearby. This box was specifically designed to pacify the orb’s power and keep it in stasis.
“Now, place it in the containment box for transport back to Soorak.”
Corin hesitantly stepped forward and dropped the orb into the box as a white stasis field grabbed hold of the orb and held it captive. The Marck slammed the top down and then turned a switch on the side. The box let out a hiss as if drawing the air out.
“Put him in custody!” Zearic ordered. He stormed down the corridor for the exit. His Marck security units swung forward and fell in behind him one by one.
A remaining Marck pulled a shiny metal cylinder from his belt and held it behind Corin. A bright yellow ring emitted from one end to the other, surrounding Corin’s midsection in a barrier of energy that gave off a persistent hum. Corin tried to turn and look behind him, and in doing so, his elbow brushed against the energy field, burning his sleeve and searing the skin beneath. He felt a push behind him that nudged him forward.
Just as Corin reached the outside door, a roaring boom shook the walls and echoed throughout the compound. The Marck gu
ard that was leading Corin stopped suddenly and pulled Corin back. He heard metal crashing to the floor behind him, and the energy ring opened, freeing his arms. Corin turned around. Plexo stood there with his luminescent hand grasping a fusion cutter; it’s arching blade popping and snapping. Corin looked down to see the Marck’s headless body lying on the floor like an abandoned heap of metal.
Plexo gestured toward the door. “Commander, have a look outside.”
Corin touched the tiny screen located next to the door. As the door slid open, smoke and fumes billowed inward. As the smoke cleared, he observed Creedith standing over Zearic with his tectonic blade pointing at the lower backside of the highly agitated marshal’s head. The battered remains of the Vico Legion surrounded them. Littering the ground were smoldering heaps of Marck security units, along with a crashed transport that was formerly positioned above the compound.
“Commander! Please forgive me.” Creedith was sincerely worried that Corin might be upset over the disregard of his orders. “I had one of my soldiers follow you at a distance when you left. When he reported that you were attacked, we came to assist. That’s when we found Zearic and these Marcks carrying your blue orb. We instructed them to hand it over, and they foolishly attacked.”
Corin looked over and noticed the blue orb still in the containment box lying on the ground. “Corin! You and these . . . these thugs will forfeit your lives for this treachery!” Zearic attempted to bat away Creedith’s blade, but the strong Andor gave him a swift kick in the face. Blood spewed from Zearic’s mouth while he inhaled dirt from the ground.
“You horse-faced dreg, the moment you so foolishly attacked that transport, a distress signal was sent to the Marck command fleet, and a rescue force will be dropping in any minute now!” Zearic snarled.
“Thanks for the warning,” Creedith replied.
Plexo looked down at a small observation globe in his palm. “He is correct, sir. I am detecting a massive armored force heading this way from the south.”
The Tolagon kneeled down and picked up the box containing the orb. He disengaged the stasis, and the Tolagon reunited with the orb once again. “We need to get out of here quick! Plexo, is your ship ready?” Corin asked.
“It is ready. I recently upgraded its Radiant Drive, and it should effortlessly outrun anything in the Marck fleet.”
Corin and the legionnaires made their way down a narrow channel that led them into an underground hangar. A sleek, bronze ship stood awaiting its restless passengers. Plexo approached the control platform and flipped a switch. At that moment, a lurid vibration rumbled from above the subterranean hangar. Corin looked up toward the commotion.
“Too late, they have arrived.”
CHAPTER 14
Current day . . .
P lexo found it difficult to clear his thoughts. The sacrifice that Tolagon Emberook made that day still haunted him. He had to stay vigilant for Crix. The Oro System needed a new hero, a new Tolagon. Crix would need his guidance, and only a clear, logical mind could provide that. Plexo returned to Arc Stasis; he felt relieved when they still appeared to be preoccupied with the intimate view of Nathasia and the menacing fleet that surrounded it, except for Kerriah. She stared straight at him and clearly was not in Arc Stasis, but she did not say a word. It was as though she could see his pain and allowed him to have his moment.
They felt drawn back into their physical selves once again as their minds released from the clench of Arc Stasis. Their eyes slowly focused back to their real surroundings. Plexo calmly slapped his hands on his own lap in an attempt to regain his composure.
“Now, if things have gone as they should, you should now be in possession of the Phantos Bracer, which is a critical part of what you will need to gain access to the numinous council of Gabor.” Plexo noticed Crix attempting to hide it earlier after he had changed his garments. The bracer was the last thing that Haflinger gave him before he passed, so for that reason alone, it was important to Crix.
“What?” Krath grumbled, agitated by Plexo’s cryptic words.
Plexo smiled and focused his attention on Crix. “What you do not know is that the council was sealed off by the last two Tolagons before they were to resign their orbs. From my understanding, the seal cannot be opened without at least two orbs. Therefore, one of the reasons the yellow orb is important is that you will need it to gain entrance to Gabor.
“That is only the secondary reason that we must retrieve it, though. We must keep it out of the hands of Zearic. If the orbs were to fall into his hands, then all hope would be lost. With the Marck’s tight control over Nathasia and all the activity that appears to be surrounding that planet, I fear that it’s only a matter of time before they happen upon it.”
The mythical lore was that inside Gabor contained an ancient alien race that once lived among the Luminars. A race they discovered on one of their interstellar quests many generations ago. It was from this race that the knowledge of how to control the orbs eventually came.
For a minute, they all remained in silence, trying to digest everything they just learned, and then an uncertain voice broke the quiet. “I—I have so many questions. How am I to wield two orbs by myself? Is that possible? What is Gabor?” Crix was just beginning to become acquainted with controlling the power of the one, much less two.
“When we Luminars discovered the Oro System, we were elated. However, what we found was a system immersed in a multi-generational war. Our solution was to find the best living examples of each world and bestow upon them an orb of Cyos, a gracious gift indeed. It was, however, that important, and we determined that it was the ultimate purpose of the orbs.
“The newly cast Tolagons would now be trained though Gabor. Trained to lead the way for peace and defend the system from future wars. Gabor is your future. It is the place that you will learn to be a Tolagon. It’s where all Tolagons have been taught and where many of your questions will be answered.
“Each of the four orbs possesses a certain uniqueness in their powers. As you have already discovered, the blue orb has power over mass and gives its bearer the ability to create and manipulate solid objects, motion, and certain forms of energy. The yellow orb has power over thought and perception, the red over natural elements, and the green . . . light energy. Therefore, for that reason, there isn’t a one-size-fits-all training for the Tolagon. Also, I’m afraid that without this knowledge, prolonged use of the orbs power, will eventually prove fatal to its host.
“As far as wielding two orbs, I only know that Tolagon Emberook is the only living creature that has ever done so and only for a short time after Tolagon Ridol of Nathasia fell in battle. So yes, it can be done, but how, I do not know, only that it must be done. You must gain access to Gabor and reactivate the council that resides there; this will give you all the rights, training, and knowledge so that you may fully harness the orb’s abilities. With this knowledge, you can restore the Tolagons and their great order. I also fear that your continued use of the orb’s power without this training could lead to your demise. There is no one else to teach you, no other Tolagon to aid in your journey,” Plexo explained.
Crix sat there in deep thought for a moment, and then asked the only question that came to his mind. “How am I to find the orb on Nathasia? I mean, I have never even been there.”
“Someone, who knows of its location, will have to escort you,” Plexo replied.
He felt some relief in that answer. “You?”
“No . . . to leave my ship would be my demise. I know that statement must confuse you. You see, Luminars have extensive lifespans in comparison to your own due to our altered state of being. As you may or may not know, my world was in the direct path of a gamma-ray burst. This event changed our world forever; the radiation blast killed most, initially, but the survivors developed a heightened mental capacity and unnaturally long lifespans. We also inherited this wonderful radiance you see today.” He stopped to extend his luminescent arms out and swooshed his hands around, only to no
tice that no one gave any positive feedback to his statement or gesture, and then continued.
“Well anyway, my species lives some two thousand or more years depending on the individual and his internal tissue regeneration rate. This tissue acts as an organic battery within our bodies. Not a battery as you know it but an organ that serves as a mechanism that collects and stores gamma radiation. However, like any battery, it holds only a finite sum of this energy. This energy maintains our life force. Internally, we know when the energy is getting low, and when we will ultimately expire, we can feel that within us. Therefore, to my point, mine has expired, yet I am still here. About a decade ago, I realized that my time here was drawing near an end. Customarily, I would have to accept that end, only there was much still to be done, and consequently, I knew I could not leave yet. In that, I found a way to preserve my existence with only the small inconvenience of being isolated here, where the energy source I found now exists.”
Until now, Crix had only heard faint tales of the Luminars and certainly nothing of this detail. Plexo took on an intriguing persona: someone that he needed to ask countless questions of, but of those questions, one is the most important. “Okay, then who is my escort?”
“He is an Andor, best friend, and first officer under Tolagon Emberook.”
Krath perked up, knowing of whom he was referring to. “Creedith? Yes! But I heard that he was captured and killed shortly after the Vico Legion dispersed.”
“Captured, yes, but not killed. He has spent the last twenty years doomed to hard labor on Dispor. Zearic tortured him for months, yet he would never divulge the location of the blue orb. With the hope that he could find different ways to force the information from him in the future, he was to be kept alive, if you can call it that.”
Krath rubbed the top of his head, still unhappy over its shiny glisten of cleanliness. “So tya thinkin’ we can just do the ole jailbreak there on Dispor, eh, Plexo? That’s one thing I always liked about tya, always good for some gut bustin’ laughs.” Krath’s tone was drenched in sarcasm. “Look, I was always good with Creedith, never had any problems with Andors, and I would love to see him free of that place, but tya ain’t getting’ anywhere close to Dispor unless tya an incomin’ prisoner or lack a heartbeat, and then tya ain’t gettin’ out; that’s for sure. No one has ever left that place. I mean no one. After twenty years in that place, there’s really no sayin’ that he’s truly still alive anyhow.”
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