Age of the Marcks Read online

  TOLAGON

  AGE OF THE MARCKS

  TOLAGON

  AGE OF THE MARCKS

  Gregory Benson

  © 2019 by Gregory Benson. All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book, except for brief review, may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without the written consent and permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, dialogues, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, whether living or dead, businesses, locales, or events other than those specifically cited are unintentional and purely coincidental or are used for the purpose of illustration only.

  Published by Blue Giant Publishing, LLC

  The publisher and author assume no responsibility for errors, omissions, or contrary interpretation of the subject matter herein. The author and publisher assume no responsibility or liability whatsoever on the behalf of any purchaser or reader of these materials. The publisher and author do not have any control over and do not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  First edition.

  Print ISBN: 978-1-7340196-0-5

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-7340196-1-2

  gregorybensonbooks.com

  tolagon.com

  To my beautiful wife Dawn. Without her patience and support, this would have never been possible.

  For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

  – Ephesians 6:12

  CONTENTS

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE THRAXON WAR

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PROLOGUE

  THRAXON WAR

  A s a Tolagon and bearer of the blue orb, Commander Corin Emberook drew a heaping breath and clenched his fist; he brought forth a blue aura around his body with a fluxing hum. Sweeping his gaze behind him, he observed the steadfast stare of his most trusted commandant, Creedith. The tall, long-maned, and muscular Andor stood closely behind Emberook with one leg propped up on a large stone. As an Andor, short, smooth fur covered his body, and his face was long and chiseled with pronounced cheekbones and large, flaring nostrils.

  “It appears that Tolagon Tenier and the Solarans must have failed to take control of the outer gammac corridor, and thus allowed an auxiliary Thraxon force into the system,” Creedith proclaimed in his thick, Andorian accent. The corridors used for travel between systems had proven to be a blessing and a curse for Nathasia.

  Plasmatic fumes swelled over Corin with every rising gust of Nathasia’s thin air.

  “We’ll stick with the attack plan,” he said, keeping a focused stare upon his forthcoming adversaries. The tall leader’s short, white hair matched the white stubble on his face. “Are Krath’s troops in place?” he asked, referring to the secretly positioned Hybor shock force. The muscular, thick-hided warriors of Thale were the perfect heavy ground forces as long as their temperaments held steady.

  “They are ready on your signal,” answered Creedith.

  As the Thraxon warships entered the planet’s atmosphere, a heavy rumble filled the air and became a deafening thunder as they neared.

  “Engage your battle armor and be ready!” Emberook announced through his comm unit. “Remember, as far as they are concerned, this is the whole of our force.” A thousand multi-world soldiers stood directly behind him, slammed down their helmet visors, and mounted an assortment of embattled XA-type attack vehicles. The XAs were slender, wedged-shaped, single-unit attack vehicles that legions used for low-altitude strafing attacks.

  A deep reverberation came from the Thraxon cruisers as they hovered about two kilometers from the planet’s surface. In the distance, a luminescent red glow that emitted from their forward observation portals delivered the eerie sensation of eyes staring. The cruisers covered the ground beneath them with a crimson hue quickly engulfed by an enormous, living shadow and a spine-shivering screech.

  This massive, black shadow swirled toward them like an ocean wave during a raging storm.

  “Brace yourselves!” Emberook called to his soldiers as he pushed out a wall of blue energy from his power orb, covering his troops in a protective shield. The black wave engulfed them. His stomach tightened as his feet dug into the rocky surface. With a clenched jaw, he strained to keep the menacing force at bay. His blue shield receded and exposed his forward troops. The exposed troops frantically commenced firing into the darkness with their plasma rifles. Several near the edge of the barrier screamed in blistering agony as they fell, overtaken by the swarm.

  These overwhelming, shadow-like assailants consisted of billions of nearly microscopic organisms known as entrocrows. This biological weapon recently adopted by the Thraxon forces became their first line of attack. The early encounters with these nasty organisms were disastrous as they burrowed through armor and devoured the host in seconds.

  This time, Emberook’s forces were ready for them. “Release the thermal grid now!” ordered Emberook. Timing his commands to allow the majority of the entrocrows to enter the battlefield, he initialized the counter-drone attack. A thunderous boom throbbed out as a half dozen forward-swept-winged TR300 class attack fighters roared down and dropped a rainstorm of drones. These drones hovered together and formed a cube-like grid directly around the entrocrow wave. Then, instantaneously, they stitched a bright-red beam between each drone and created the grid. This powerful new weapon generated a blinding light and an immense surge of heat, which pounded down upon everything and produced a shimmering appearance over the landscape.

  The enormous shadow gave out a hawking shrill as it retracted, leaving behind billions of tiny black flakes that fell to the ground. The hundreds of drones, now depleted, dropped like rocks. Cheers from Emberook’s Vico Legionnaires rang out over the briefly silenced attack. They did not let these small victories slide past uncelebrated for they understood, by this cunning feat of technology, their losses were greatly reduced.

  “Commander Emberook,” the eager communications officer had run forward and yelled, “Federation Command just informed us that the new Marck relief force is approaching with an ETA of sixty minutes. Our orders are to hold off the Thraxon attack force until they arrive, and then stand down our defensive position.”

  Emberook’s brows wrinkled with rebuke. “These politicians have some audacity,” he growled, angry over the new mechanized force, the Marcks, stealing away the glory of accomplishment from his legion at the last minute; they had lost so many to get here. “They obviously have no understanding of how to fight battles and certainly discern nothing of honor and sacrifice. Lieutenant, you tell them we will do as ordered, but not at the expense of my soldiers and the honor they leave on this—” Before he could finish, a large rock about twenty meters to his left struck the ground, ruptured. The explosions continued as the Thraxon cruisers opened fire on them with their pulsar cannons.

  “Spector Five . . . Spector F
ive . . . Do you copy?” Emberook called to his orbital command ship.

  “We copy you, Commander,” a hurried voice answered.

  “We require immediate suppressive bombardment on the Thraxon cruisers!”

  “Copy that, Commander; hang on tight to whatever you can down there,” the command ship replied.

  The sky blazed a deep green as a barrage of energy beams rained down upon the Thraxon cruisers, jolting them in a bouncing motion as their shields attempted to absorb the impact. At that same moment, an intense hiss emitted from the battlecruisers as Thraxon warriors swarmed out, gliding on their winged attack apparatuses from various access ports.

  “Their ground forces are descending,” a Federation soldier yelled over the comm. Thraxon heavy ground troops also poured down from the cruisers; their light propulsion packs slowed their descent.

  Commander Corin Emberook stood with his hands cupped in the air and sent a vivid blue beam of pure light from the orb into the sky to signal his science officer Plexo, the Luminar. Plexo stood ready, well away from the field of battle.

  As the inky-skinned Thraxons descended and took their place on the battlefield, iridescent waves of energy from Plexo’s transporter filled the rock-strewn valley. The energy subsided and revealed Hybor shock troops that had weaved in and behind the unsuspecting Thraxons. The freshly transported infantry fired their rifles upon their foes, dropping them by the hundreds. The Hybor troops from the water-covered moon of Thale looked wild; their large eyes, thick necks, and immense, muscular forms were truly a fighting force to behold. The remaining ally forces, led by Creedith, engaged from the air in their XAs, taking down the flying Thraxon warriors, each with the grace of a dancer.

  Commander Corin took flight, propelled by the orb’s power, and started to grab and fling the Thraxons into the rocks below. Just as the Thraxon cruisers’ energy shields began failing, the orbital barrage from the command ship inexplicably dissipated.

  “Spector Five, why have you halted your attack!” Corin demanded an explanation.

  A distorted and broken response came back. “Be advised—we are unable to—Thraxon hive ship—ent—” A flash of light pulsed in the sky. Moments later, flaming debris had begun to shower down from high above.

  “Creedith! We just lost our command ship, and we now have a Thraxon hive ship to deal with,” Corin yelled as he looked upward in horror at the emerging black silhouette of the hive ship high above them. “Have your XAs focus on the Thraxon cruisers’ propulsion stabilizers and take them down while their shields are still weak.”

  Creedith was a bold and cunning pilot. He bore down on the nearest enemy cruiser from his XA assault fighter and called out, “On my mark, target the propulsion systems with your barbed atomics.” He fired a single, spiked projectile that stuck into the skin of the cruiser near its stabilizer. The other XA pilots followed suit, and then as they pulled away, plumes of fire blasted from the aft section of the doomed Thraxon cruiser. Like a beast trying to throw its mount, the burning ship had begun to spin violently out of control. Its hull crashed into the front of the other Thraxon cruiser, and their fiery masses both plummeted toward the crowded battlefield below.

  “Plexo!” Corin called.

  “Parallaxing our ground forces now, Commander,” a firm, whispering voice replied.

  The strategically placed parallax projectors positioned around the valley glowed bright, and the Hybor forces phased out, leaving only the Thraxon’s forces below to face devastation from their impacting cruisers.

  A black object that had the appearance of a large umbrella shadowed the sky above. Its eerie manifestation made even the most hardened soldiers’ hearts sink into their stomachs. The side profile of the umbrella slowly turned inward toward the planet as it, the hive ship, prepared to launch its attack force. Thin red beams showered down from the massive ship, each leaving a six-legged attack vehicle on the surface. Within just a few minutes, these scurrying, mechanical attackers littered the landscape.

  Creedith swooped down on his XA and delivered precision blasts from his plasma cannons, bringing down two of the enemies’ units immediately. Just as he was about to soar back up and assume another attack position, one of the Thraxon vehicles leaped up and latched on to the bottom of his XA. All six legs pierced into the armor and pulled the ship back down to the surface. As it was about to spew its amber substance—called “thax”—that dissolved metals on contact, Corin surprisingly dropped down on top of it and ripped open the canopy; he flung the Thraxon pilot out into a nearby rock. The damaged attack vehicle went limp and crumpled to the ground.

  “What would you do if I wasn’t around to save your hide, old friend?” Corin smirked.

  “Behind you, Commander!” Creedith shouted as he jumped from his now-disabled XA that ruptured into fiery bits. Plasma blasts struck all around them, and they observed the sky above filled with an unending mass of Thraxon fighters; they were like incoming plumes of gigantic gnats.

  The battle turned into a vicious struggle to survive. The UMO Federation desperately fought the onslaught to hold the valley. The Hybor ground troops once again returned to the battle from their hidden location, but this time, on foot. They charged onto the field ferociously with their shoulder-mounted plasma cannons and magnetic charges to repress the relentless spitors that the Thraxons had unleashed. The spitors scurried around and spewed their acidic dissolvent on wounded UMO troops to reassure their demise on the battlefield. The Hybors were motivated to destroy them all.

  As death amassed on both sides, Corin observed a new wave of Thraxons that descended from the hive ship orbiting above. There appeared to be no end to the attack forces that the Thraxon hive ship could unleash.

  Finally, seeing his forces depleted, Corin made the difficult call. “Plexo! Do you copy?”

  “Yes, Commander, awaiting your order.”

  “I need you to parallax us out and scorch the valley.”

  “Commander, I feel it is my duty to remind you that obliterating the valley by use of sionic detonators will fail our mission.” His Eesolan inflection sounded distant, as if from a dream.

  “Plexo, just do it! It’s my call, and I will take full ownership of it.” The ground forces of the UMO Federation shimmered and faded out from the battlefield. Corin shot down like a missile and snatched up Creedith from the top of a Thraxon spitor. Before his saving lift upward, the dedicated Andor drove his tectonic blade into the fuselage, killing the six-armed pilot inside.

  “XAs, pull back to the rear command!” Creedith called out to his units. His eyes sternly focused on the battlefield below. As they exited, a dozen shiny spheres sparkled into the valley, hovering about fifty meters from ground level.

  “Engage blast visors!” Corin shouted. The valley behind them flashed an eye-blistering white. The ensuing shock jarred every bone in their bodies and launched debris past them at lethal speeds. The sheer blast of air escaping the valley slammed everyone not far enough from the epicenter to the ground with bone-crushing wrath. After a few minutes of sustained chaos, the land settled to a gentle vibration and, finally, stillness.

  Grounded from the blast and covered in soot, Corin slowly pulled himself up and opened his visor. The protective blue energy field from the orb slowly dimmed away from around his body. The air swirled thick with dust, and their lungs burned with every new breath. A few minutes went by before Corin gave the order.

  He rasped, “Sound off!”

  “Forward ground force meridian online,” the Hybor Krath answered.

  “This is Battalion Master Fotan. XA Air Intercept Forces stand ready, but Captain Creedith is currently unaccounted for,” another voice replied.

  “No worries, I’ve got him right here with me.” Corin pulled his Andor friend into an upright, seated position and unsnapped his helmet. Creedith’s eyes drew upward and gave him a brotherly smile. Corin slapped him on the back with a friendly pat, happy to see that his friend was still in the living world.

  Plexo
followed up, “Science and Engineering standing by, sir.”

  “Plexo, give me a status of the valley and the Thraxon force,” commanded Corin.

  Linking up to the orbital observation platform, Plexo was able to use its advanced filters to get a clearer view of the valley.

  “I’m just now getting a visual of what used to be the Meutor Valley. Visual coming in now . . . Yes, yes, as I anticipated, the valley has been flattened, as are all the deployed Thraxon forces.”

  The remaining units of the Vico Legion were scarcely combat effective. They amassed around the ruins of a large, stone-built home located on the outskirts of the Meutor Valley. The valley, in its zenith, was once a beautiful haven of wildlife, turquoise rivers, and emerald trees surrounded by rolling hills that were flamed with dark-orange flowers—before the war laid siege to it.

  The wounded lay scattered. An Andor medical officer hurried about, attempting to stabilize the wounded. Corin sized up the remains of his force. He struggled to fight off thoughts of dismay.

  Handing over military control to these Marcks is to be the worst decision the UMO has ever made. Our fighting forces are mostly depleted . . . I get it . . . still.

  He watched as a Hybor gave sips from his canteen to a Solaran that struggled to maintain consciousness from his wounds. These soldiers are the best of the best. We can and will fend the Thraxons off once more, but this Marck force is not the way.

  Generations of hate and war between these species meant nothing now. There was only the brotherly bond between soldiers fighting a common foe. Before this Thraxon War, none of the factions would have given a friendly glance to one another. The Mendacs ruled over their worlds as though they were all some sort of primitive, barbaric species. They sat back and casually watched the Hybors and Solarans destroy each other, once they were provided the technology to leave their respective worlds. Even though Thale, Solara, and Soorak were all neighboring moons of Oro, they didn’t act very neighborly. That changed. Now there was hope—a perseverance that would not succumb to this current evil.