Age of the Marcks

by Gregory Benson

  “Fear not, my friends, our faith will spare us,” Creedith said, trying to calm the frenzied nerves of his doomed companions. As he settled back to pray and make his inner peace, the stillness was shattered.

  “There!” Kerriah shouted with the fervor of a person that had spotted a long lost love. A ship veered from around the horizon and turned directly in their direction. The bulky vessel dipped forward with a pointed nose. Around its sides were large, wing-like sections that drew upward as it accelerated toward the doomed escapees.

  Creedith squinted; this ship was familiar to him. “I recognize this ship. This is an old UMO corvette class. It was one of ours during the war. We should be cautious.”

  Kerriah stared carefully at the ship, looking for a marking. “The insurgents took over some of those old ships. It could still be ours.” Then a smile crept across her face. “It’s ours! I see the old UMO and Tolagon emblems.”

  A blinding light broke open from the ship’s belly as it passed over them. They felt a sharp tug upward that caused them to pile atop each other.

  “You’re crushing me, get off!” Kerriah complained as she attempted to push Krath’s backside off her torso. He lifted himself away, giving her a chance to draw a breath from the thinning air.

  The blinding light from the ship glared down upon them, masking their surroundings. As they moved upward into the ship, they dropped upon a solid surface, and the light dimmed. Crix dropped the bubble, allowing them to breathe freely again. The cool, clean air was sweet as they took it into their lungs.

  “This can’t be.” Creedith noticed a large cobalt V painted across the bay doors, the crest of the Vico Legion. His mind raced with possibilities.

  Kerriah cupped Crix’s face in her hands, eagerly kissing him, and embraced him with all her strength. He held her tight.

  Krath gave Creedith a friendly elbow to his side and chuckled. Could it be some remnant of the Vico Legion? As far as they knew, the last two members of Corin Emberook’s Vico Legion were sitting amongst them. Still, it was easy to become elated, given that just moments ago, their deaths were almost certain.

  An orange beacon lit up as a large door groaned open at the far end of the hangar area. The lighting was softer beyond the doorway. “Congratulations on completing your quest and liberating the Andor. I have engaged the atmospheric support systems for you so that you may breathe,” a voice echoed out over the ship’s loudspeakers.

  Plexo? Kerriah relaxed her embrace of Crix.

  “Do not be alarmed. Please exit the hangar for your debriefing,” the voice continued.

  Krath’s brow furrowed and he firmly placed his firsts upon his hips. “Plexo? How ‘bout tya get out here and give us a proper greeting?”

  Kerriah recalled the story Plexo told them about his failing health. “Well, he can’t actually be here. Remember what he said about the green orb and that he couldn’t leave his ship?”

  Creedith rubbed his chin. “We should be cautious, of course. However, if their intention was to harm us, they simply could have allowed us to die in orbit. They could also release the air dock retention system and blow us back out into orbit and kill us now. I’m not yet convinced that this reception is nefarious.”

  “One way to find out.” Krath started through the doorway, in his normal bold swagger.

  Crix looked over at Kerriah and then Creedith, who both appeared somewhat concerned and less than eager to just traipse through the doorway. He shook his head, exhausted, and then hurried behind Krath. “Wait up!”

  The corridor was warm and inviting, with the perfect temperature and lower lighting. “Please proceed to the forward briefing lounge; I will be with you shortly.” A small door slid open, and light peeked out. Krath slowly stepped into what appeared to be a well-weathered briefing room, with worn high-back seats, and encircled a center podium.

  He felt at ease and let down his guard. “Tya can come on in. Nothin’ to worry over.” He announced to the others that followed in behind him, their curiosities peaked.

  “You’re right. We are going to be all right,” Crix agreed.

  They all entered and took a seat. It was nice to finally relax. The chairs were cozy and they all felt at ease. Collectively, they all somehow knew that everything was going to be fine except for Kerriah, who still had doubts.

  Crix took notice of her unease. He smiled at Kerriah and gripped her hand. She was safe, and they were together. His touch helped to calm her nerves. The last of the noble Andors, Creedith, was rescued, and they were all together again.

  Outside, the tattered war ship’s engines spun up, and bright blue cones jutted from its rear thrusters. It slowly pushed away from Dispor’s orbit, leaving behind it creeping debris and dissipating smoke, which floated out from the charred remains of the prison. The old corvette’s next mission was still not known to its new passengers, but one thing was certain, their journey was far from over . . .

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Gregory M Benson grew up in the Midwest and married his high school sweetheart, Dawn. He graduated from the University of Missouri-Saint Louis and works in the technology field.

  As far back as he could remember, he would spend much of his childhood daydreaming about alien worlds and immersing himself into science fiction and fantasy. As an adult, he’s enjoyed adventures traveling with wife Dawn and his son Luke, as well as sword fighting, pinball, and of course, writing sci-fi/fantasy.