OGENUS EARTH 🌎 🌊 {Dystopian Sci-Fi Adventure}

Unwell

Harrison gathered Meg up at the waist to hoist her into the air with a happy grunt. Her release of laughter pealed like bells in his ears as he buried his face into her curtains of raven hair. Some sort of foul chemical mired her usual aroma, but it was still her. His heart slammed into his ribs so hard he could swear she could feel it too. Meg tried to squeeze her arms tight around his muscled frame, but her limbs felt like jellyfish tentacles.

"Cracked ribs and a sprained wrist, but no internal bleeding or other physical trauma," MAX delivered its evaluation to anyone listening. 

"No wonder it hurts to breathe," Meg mumbled, glancing around the cramped space. 

She wasn't familiar with this part of Matthias' ship, if that's where they were. They certainly weren't in any sort of medical wing. The machinery surrounding their group clanked and ground its gears like an engine room, but this wasn't a vessel she was familiar with. Her mangled escape pod (or what was left of it, at least) was still docked to a man-sized portal in the oddly bronzed wall. 

"This isn't the Black Marlin?" Meg asked Harrison, locking onto his wide brown eyes. "Or an Aegis?"

What aren't they telling me? Meg wondered, watching the twitchy reactions of her friends. Something was troubling them deeply, so much so that she could feel the uncomfortable apprehension saturating their happy reunion.

"I needed something with decent shields to get to you in time," Harrison chuckled amicably, squeezing Meg ever so gently one more time (because he could.) "This hunk of junk is a loaner."

Meg glanced past him at the beveled walls in rusty, Old Earth-like tones. She could spend hours studying the exposed cogs and gears that fit together perfectly and somehow seemed connected to the way the ship bobbed in the ebb and flow of the water outside.  

"What did he call my ship?" An indignant (and strident) female voice screeched over the speakers, echoing feedback into the tiny room.

"Why not put the girl down?" Big Joe suggested. 

Harrison lowered Meg to the damp floor and she turned her attention to the new figure that had materialized in the projected hollocast, one that radiated authority. 

The tall, curvaceous woman flaunted a wide grin. Her dark skin looked like supple velvet wrapped in a pair of tailored breeches and a fitted blouse. Hundreds of intricate braids were piled on top of her stately head, peeking out of a bound scarf. Chantilly was at least fifteen years older than Harrison and she wore that lifetime of experience exceptionally well. Meg tried not to stare at the gorgeous woman's sumptuous figure or her dark, curious eyes that burrowed into her over the projected communication like a hungry shark.

Chantilly wanted to drink in the sight of the tiny girl that Harrison was willing to grovel for. He sailed into enemy territory and risked the fury of her best raiders for that whispy little spec of plankton? Even more, he'd promised that his mother, the high and mighty Persephone, wanted to bargain with the likes of ocean's most fearsome privateer just to save what was left of her pathetic followers. 

Of course, she'd gotten a new fleet of ships, a crew full of (disgruntled) sea monkeys, and secured a mass of hoity-toity slave labor for her troubles, so she couldn't really complain. Still, Chantilly wondered incredulously, why her?  

"We didn't think Harrison would get to you in time," Matthias remarked, leaning into the  hollocast and eyeing Meg with the respect she so rightfully deserved. "You're one tough sea biscuit." 

"Damn right she is!" Harrison cackled, ignoring the way that made Chantilly's impressive brow arch.  

"My parents?" Meg asked. "The citizens of Arc City One? Are they safe?"