Warrior Spirit

by Laura Kaighn

  “Does Vesarius know?” Coty asked into her hair.

  “I do now,” came the Vesar’s gravelly reply from the open doorway.

  Dorinda jerked away from Coty to see his broad silhouette framed in the captain’s cabin entry. Her throat cracked against her surprise. “Vesarius, I was -”

  “You said you could be patient. I see now you could not.” The Vesar growled his discontent, striding forward.

  “What?”

  Throwing up his arms in Dorinda’s defense, Coty stomped to block the Vesar’s approach. “Commander, she came to me with this.” The captain shoved the evidence under the taller man’s hawk nose. The Vesar froze, his mahogany visage dark with Fury, his coal-embered eyes unfocused on the paper before him. “It’s a PSY printout,” Coty added quickly even as Vesarius swept him aside. The Pompeii’s captain smacked against his study desk then crumpled to the deck.

  Dorinda saw that Vesarius’ eyes were black pits. She had to cool his fire quickly. “I was with Dr. Sheradon,” Dorinda uttered as Coty sprang back to his feet to obstruct the Vesar’s reaching, steel arms. Wriggling between the two men, Dorinda grabbed the Vesar’s fist. Vesarius lurched away.

  “Where were you all night?” He snatched Dorinda against his fiery frame.

  “What? Last night?”

  “I checked on you.”

  “I was with Lonnie,” Dorinda yelped as the Vesar’s grip tightened painfully. “The vision came again. I was worried.” Though her voice was pitched in discomfort, she would not pull away.

  “Commander,” Coty snapped, voice dangerously deep. “Look at this printout.”

  Vesarius blinked at his captain, but Dorinda recognized his lingering rage. What could she say to instantly cool his Fury? Laying her free hand upon his chest she blurted, “I’m clairvoyant!” The Vesar kiss was an intimate gesture, and it evoked the correct response.

  Vesarius blinked back toward reality. He sucked a ragged, adrenaline-dropping breath and focused on her emerald gaze. “A vision seer.” His molten steel hands cooled to hot lead.

  “Yes,” she explained with a relieved sigh. “I came here from the med center to tell Coty. You would have been the first, but Lonnie said -”

  Nodding in understanding, Vesarius finished for her. “He is the captain. It is proper procedure.”

  “I sent Noah to tell you I hadn’t forgotten about you.”

  Vesarius scowled; his shadowed eyes betrayed his discomfort. “I did not allow him time to explain.” Slowly the warrior lowered his arms to his sagging sides.

  “You thought she’d been here all night,” Coty voiced quietly.

  Vesarius didn’t answer. Instead he brushed Dorinda’s palm from his chest and spun, disappearing in an instant through the cabin’s yawning door.

  “He’s embarrassed,” Coty lamented when the wall solidified once more.

  “Yes. He blames himself for even accusing us of ...” Dorinda couldn’t continue. Warm, salty tears tumbled; Dorinda’s heart rollercoastered. She shrouded her face in her palms. “Michael, I ... We ... I can’t keep hiding this.” Her hands dropped. “Now he thinks I’m turning away from him.”

  Coty was at her side, arm around her shoulder. After a moment, his pained voice admitted, “It’s because he knows I love you too. Knows I would take you in an instant ... if I could.”

  Stifling a sob, Dorinda buried her face in Coty’s dark tunic. “I’d never hurt him like that.”

  “He knows that,” Coty whispered into her hair. “He didn’t want to find us together, didn’t want to believe we could betray him.” Pushing her away gently, Coty ducked his eyes to hers. “We didn’t. Vesarius knows that now too.”

  Dorinda wiped her face quickly and forced her emotions down into her gut. “I should go to him.”

  “Yes,” Coty agreed, “but first clear your eyes. There’ll be people in the corridors.”

  Nodding, Dorinda slowed her breathing and swiped her tears once more, sniffling quietly. Her mind a flurry of conflict, she was unsure how to approach Vesarius. He’d be furious at his own actions, his own thoughts. She must let him know how she felt ... about Coty, about him. “Michael, what do I do? What do I say? I think he knows this is terribly hard for me. Hard on you.”

  Michael nodded slowly but at first said nothing. Turning away from her, chin drooping, Coty finally admitted, “I am happy for him. He’s no longer a lonely man.”

  “But you are,” Dorinda countered. “You’re still unattached. Your family is this ship, her crew. I don’t think it’s enough anymore.” Dorinda took a step toward him eyeing his stiff shoulders. “Michael, I feel like I’m hurting you ... Every time I walk by, every time I talk to you, every time you even look at Vesarius. I’m ... sorry about all of this. If I could just be sent back home to my own time, maybe everything could be fixed.”

  “Impossible,” Coty sighed, his dark head flopping back, half-closed lids toward the ceiling.

  “I know that.”

  Coty spun on her clarifying. “Impossible for me to forget.” Dorinda saw that his eyes were round with hurtful compassion. This was eating him from inside to explain it. “You could be halfway across the galaxy, and I’d still feel it here,” he declared pounding his chest once with a bronze fist. “I’m an empath, Dori. What I feel won’t go away ... even if I could send you back.”

  Dorinda faltered, clasping his forearm in emphasis. “You must wish I’d never come through that Arch.”

  “No.” Michael Coty flinched a sardonic smirk. He encircled her in a quick embrace. “I love you too much to ever wish you away.” The captain’s gaze was like polished jasper when he held her at arm’s length. “You and Vesarius are my dearest friends. How could I not let you be happy? Be together? I’m grateful that you understand.” Coty’s smile tightened with conviction. “Your compassion lifts my spirit … When I see you in action defending Vesarius, arguing with Jonas over the environmental controls in the agro-lab, discussing botany with Yuri, learning new medical procedures from Yolonda. And now,” Coty added beaming, “I find out you’re a PSY. I couldn’t be more proud of you.” Coty chuckled and squeezed her arms. “No one could guess that you were born in the latter half of the twentieth century. You seem to fit right in here.”

  Clasping his wrists, Dorinda then pushed away. “I better go. Can’t let Vesarius berate himself too long. He might smash something.”

  With a curt grin, Michael Coty agreed, “Better stop him before he wrecks his cabin ...”

  “Or the ship.” With a quick kiss on Coty’s cheek, Dorinda bounced out of the captain’s quarters and headed for the Vesar’s. He’d be brooding more likely. Vesarius wouldn’t want to be in public view. But when she tapped the door chime of the commander’s cabin, there was no answer. Considering her options, Dorinda decided to be old-fashioned. She knocked. “Vesarius? Can I come in? I need to talk to you.”

  A few people walked by, fellow crew on their way to a late breakfast or their duty stations. Another frowned at her in transit. One woman simply snapped a polite “good morning” and strode away. If any other crewmembers passed her, Dorinda was unaware. Vesarius had not answered his door. He didn’t want to see her.

  Dorinda’s gaze drooped toward the deck plates as she trudged away. With her mind a flurry of emotions, she didn’t notice the Alaskan malamute approach. Tundra sauntered to her side and rubbed her leg with his great, square muzzle. Absently Dorinda moved her hand to rest it upon the malamute’s rounded skull. Silently they entered the nearest magnelift, and Tundra padded the button designated level four. Dorinda blinked at the gesture and focused on the dog’s gray eyes. “Are we going somewhere, boy?”

  Tundra’s answer was a subdued yip. Then the two were in the corridor again heading to the arboretum. Dorinda frowned, uncertain. This was a public place. At this time of day, the park-like environment would be full of joggers, yogis and green-thumb hobbyists. In fact Dorinda soon noticed Moxland Darby up ahead with her tiger Kinpanion Neesha in tow. The communic
ations lieutenant gripped a garden trowel in repose, and the pair stopped outside the arboretum door.

  “Lt. Darby,” Dorinda called quickening her pace to intercept the woman. “Good morning. Are you planning some early gardening?”

  Moxland stalled her entrance to turn at the hail. “Hello, Jade,” the woman acknowledged, using Dorinda’s adopted surname. Darby’s olive-complexioned, round face smiled, brown eyes twinkling. “Eva’s got us in charge of a new herb garden.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. We’re growing a new strain of rosemary with a slightly minty flavor and prickly texture. Coty’s birthday’s coming up soon, and we want to surprise him with a special dinner. Want to help?”

  Grinning also, Dorinda jerked her shoulders at the proposition. “I never was much of a gardener. Guess I didn’t care for dirty fingernails.”

  Chuckling, Moxland patted her Kinpanion affectionately. The tiger purred deeply and blinked her golden eyes in content. “Neesha doesn’t like getting dirty either. But give her a tree to debark, and she’s in her glory.”

  “When is Michael’s birthday? I’m still not adjusted to your space calendar. Too many variables.”

  Moxland nodded and gestured with her trowel. “Birthdays are easy to remember. We just use standard Earth time. Today is October 20th. Coty’s birthday is the 24th of November.”

  Dorinda leaned in toward the taller, slightly older woman. “How ancient will he be?” she whispered conspiratorially.

  “Forty-five,” Moxland hushed back then checked the hallway for spies. “He’d like to think he’s ten years younger, but we can’t change that. Not even in the twenty-second century.”

  Dorinda smirked. “Nor in the twenty-fifth no doubt.” Then she sobered. “I’d like to help you, Moxland, but I’m looking for Vesarius. We’ve got a training session scheduled, but I was sidetracked. Seems I’m your new PSY trainee.”

  The communication’s officer widened her eyes. “You, a PSY? What kind?”

  “Vesarius called me a vision seer. Yolonda told me you were a borderline telepath.”

  “My PSY rating’s a six point seven. The average PSY has only a four point rating, the average person somewhere less than one. Dr. Sheradon tested you this morning?”

  Nodding, Dorinda kept her own PSY rating of five point two to herself. She wouldn’t brag, but she’d tell Moxland if the woman asked. The communications officer was a down-to-earth sort, with common sense and expert talent in her field. Moxland Darby would have made an exceptional teacher.

  “The captain’s going to train me. I hope we can get together too, to talk. I don’t quite know what to do with this gift. It’s like someone just handed me a Tloni computer and asked me to translate.”

  Chuckling again, Moxland took a step toward the arboretum door. It hummed open to allow her entry. “For you I guess that would seem overwhelming, but you’re complaining to the wrong person.”

  Sighing, Dorinda contended, “Yes. I suppose you translate Tloni in your sleep. Better yet, speak it fluently.”

  Moxland shrugged in modesty. “Everyone has a certain talent. We’re only unfortunate if we never realize what that talent is.” She checked the arboretum with a quick roving eye. “I see Eva and her three. I’ll talk to you later, Jade. Oh, and congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” Dorinda called after her as the brunette strode inside. Dorinda tugged thoughtfully at her own auburn braid then was shoved by Tundra toward the now closed door. “What? I told her I’m not a green thumb, Tundra. I need to find Vesarius.” In response, the dog yipped and sauntered into the arboretum. Curious, Dorinda followed.

  Noah met her along the footpath. “Hi, Slink.” Chirping once, the otter bounced off to romp with Tundra on the grass. A few other Kin were there as well with their Bondmates. The arboretum was a morning meeting place. Dorinda meandered after them through the lighted trees – her thoughts inward, her inclinations not much toward play.

  Then, from the corner of her eye, she caught a dark shape, low among a small copse of rhododendrons and dogwoods. He was a figure frozen in time, an ancient shaman. Sarius? Stepping off the well-trod path that wove through the garden, Dorinda ducked in under the hanging branches. She trod over several squat shrubs to stand beside the silent warrior who appeared in deep meditation.

  The Vesar was always surprising, always wonderfully different. How could he concentrate amid the clamor of the nearby, rambunctious Kin? Without a sound Dorinda sat, copied his folded stance, and closed her own eyes. If her PSY rating was so astute, she’d see what it could do.

  Behind her lids, Dorinda pictured the Vesar’s mahogany face. She concentrated on every chiseled detail right down to the tiny scar above his left brow and the length of his double-dense, coal-colored lashes. Vesarius? Could he sense her presence? Dorinda wanted to test the scope of her talent. Quickly she thought of a clue, proof that she had touched his mind.

  Hunger. Vesarius’ stomach was growling. She imagined a tray of warm food: Vesar eel eggs, coffee, and toast with baked apples. Dorinda focused on the image for several moments. Then slowly she opened her eyes to check Vesarius’ mahogany visage.

  He sat, brow crinkled with some inner concentration. Little crow’s feet of unease creased the corners of his lidded eyes. Suddenly, one eye winked wide to regard her. “What were you thinking? I felt as if you had said something.” Her quick smile must have betrayed her mischief, for Vesarius opened his other eye and half-smirked her way.

  “I was trying to give you a suggestion. Did you hear me, what I was trying to tell you?”

  “I felt a tickle at the back of my neck. Nothing more. Your closeness must have caused duck bumps.”

  Beaming at his misuse of the colloquialism, Dorinda corrected him. “Goose bumps. Did I really?”

  Unfolding his legs, Vesarius rested his arms upon raised knees and considered the people nearby. After a silent moment, he drew in a deep breath and exhaled. His ebony gaze was now rimmed in a darker emotion: shame. “I ask your forgiveness, Dorinda,” he rumbled then glanced back out through the low branches at the passing joggers and the various Kinpanions playing on the open grass. “I deeply regret my accusations.”

  “It didn’t happen, Vesarius. It never will,” Dorinda offered placing her hand on his bare forearm.

  Sighing again, Vesarius allowed his head to drop to his chest. “The Fury grips me like a vise. I am dangerous to you. Only another Vesar could defend himself against such … urges.” The Vesar’s voice was grave when he added, “I fear someday I will break my promise ... not only hurt you, but ...” With a burst of sudden energy, the Vesar launched himself to his boots. “I must be alone. Our training session is postponed until -”

  “No, Vesarius,” Dorinda interrupted. “Don’t walk away. You’re trying to teach me control. We both need to work on our emotions. Please, sit,” she entreated when he stalled but would not look down at her. “Teach me. Let’s calm our minds together.”

  “Coty would be a better choice for teacher,” Vesarius observed, yet with little authority. “He has learned to control his feelings.”

  “I don’t want you stomping off to your cabin,” Dorinda continued ignoring his suggestion. “It usually means a bloody fist and broken furniture.”

  Vesarius grunted at the remembrance. “You are beginning to predict my behavior.” Resignedly he glanced down at her with a twisted frown. “We Vesar are known for unpredictability. Humans are not supposed to be smart enough to anticipate us.”

  With a smirk, Dorinda retorted, “Maybe I’m not human.” She tilted her head in challenge.

  When he knelt before her, Dorinda saw that Vesarius’ eyes were round with a softness he did not often show. “You possess a warrior’s spirit, Dorinda Jade. Though it may not be enough. Within, you are mighty. But on the outside …” He exhaled again, softly, resignedly. “You are very beautiful.”

  Leaning toward him, Dorinda raised her hand to stroke his mahogany cheek. Its sun and sand weathered surface was
pliant with trust. But the wide, redder mouth tilted in disapproval. “People,” she answered for him and drew away. “I wish we could stop off on some virgin planet for a month, forget anyone else existed. Then I wouldn’t have to stop myself from touching you.”

  Lowering his gaze, Vesarius conceded, “I do not want this upon us, but it has to be. I must follow protocol as you did this morning.” Quickly he continued though his voice was gruff with uncertainty. “The Vesar Council has forbade my citizenship until I participate in a rigorous test.”

  “You got your answer from them,” Dorinda surmised leaning back to rest her hands on the ground. “They refused your request. Vesarius, what is this test? From what I’m starting to understand of Vesar honor ceremonies and customs, this can’t be a simple task.” Then she saw the shadow behind his raven gaze. “It’ll be dangerous, won’t it?”

  “Yes,” he answered simply raising his chin to stare down his hawk nose at her. “It is a month-long trial of many hazards. Yet if I refuse, I will be damned to an eternal blackness, with no honor or purpose. My spirit will float in a nothingness the Vesar call Huaj´im.”

  “Hell,” Dorinda echoed eyes narrowing at the comparison. “You must do this? Can’t you just stay on the Pompeii like you’ve always done?”

  “Not if I am to take a mate, keep my honor, and regain the soul lost to me upon its taking.”

  “But you said your father -”

  “My father’s spirit restored my honor,” Vesarius clarified. “Only the Vesar Council can restore my citizenship, Dorinda. My soul to the Vesar people. I am a renegade, a pariah to them until then. For our love to be consummated by Vesar ritual, I must be Vesar once more. Not just in blood,” he argued tapping his heart with a fist, “but also in spirit. I must undertake the Vwafar´ee ordeal and survive for that to happen, for us to be bonded.” He shook his raven head. “There is no honor in proclaiming my pledge to you publicly until I have succeeded in the Vwafar´ee.”

  “Then we really aren’t mated as you’ve said?” A chilling dread constricted Dorinda’s heart.