Warrior Spirit

by Laura Kaighn

  Shaking his head once, Vesarius clarified. “In here we are.” He tapped his crested forehead. “But to my people, it is not ... authorized? Not sanctioned by the council. Until I am Vesar once more, I am nothing in their eyes. I have no soul tie to them, no right to claim a mate.” Vesarius’ lips tensed with the bitter truth. “I have committed such a crime that redemption is beyond anything but the Vwafar´ee.”

  Laying her hand upon his knee, Dorinda asked quietly, “Will I be allowed to be there? To watch you take this … test?”

  “No,” Vesarius regretted with a weighted breath and drooping chin. “You must participate also.”

  Dorinda gasped. “Me? Why?”

  “It is required. I ... did not know how ... when to tell you.” The warrior’s eyes were ebony crescents of concern. Within them Dorinda perceived a tinge of uncertainty and something else. Was it fear? “I must train you to the best of my ability. Prepare you for the uncertainties ahead.”

  Dorinda swallowed her apprehension. “But I’m not a Vesar, not physically. What’re my chances of survival if you’re concerned about your own performance?”

  Silently, the warrior seemed to consider his options. When he answered, his voice was but a whisper. “I never intended for you to have to sacrifice so much for me,” Vesarius explained. “To love Coty would be easier, openly accepted, with far fewer restrictions.” Frowning deeply, Vesarius cradled her chin in his long fingers and abruptly uttered the words Dorinda never expected. “I cannot ask you to participate in Vwafar´ee. I would rather die dishonored, than allow you to perish with me. I ... I release you from my pledge, Dorinda. You are free to love Coty if you wish it.”

  “You ... you release me?” Dorinda’s lips trembled when she spoke. “I ... But I don’t want to be released.” She scrambled to her feet. “I’m just afraid, Vesarius. Tell me what I’ve got to do ... for this Vwafar´ee ordeal. You said you’d prepare me.”

  With a vigorous head shake, Vesarius stood also. “You do not understand ... what will be expected of you.”

  “Damn it, Sarius! Make me understand.”

  Snapping up an open palm, Vesarius scanned the surrounding greenery, seemingly for any available ears. It appeared only Tundra and Noah had stopped their play to listen. Dorinda saw others of the Pompeii crew politely avert their eyes from the pair cradled beneath the tree, half veiled by its dangling curtain of leaves. Lowering his silencing hand, Vesarius argued quietly, “The danger would be great. You are right to be afraid. I will not risk your life for my affections.”

  “But, Vesarius,” she countered through tensed lips, “how can I know what’s too dangerous if you don’t tell me what I’m to do? Explain it to me. Then I’ll decide whether to let you release me of your pledge.” Huffing in barely controlled anger and forcing her volume to a subdued holler, Dorinda added with conviction, “Until then, you’re very precious to me. Don’t you forget that.” Smacking him a quick kiss, Dorinda pivoted and strode out into the artificial sunlight. Before anyone could notice her flushed expression, she marched from the arboretum a chirping Noah as her shadow.

  * * *

  Dorinda left behind a breathless and stunned Vesar. She does not understand. The Vwafar´ee ordeal was near impossible for a Vesar’s endurance to withstand. Dorinda was right. She was not Vesar, did not possess the improved senses, the higher muscular ratio she would need to survive the trial. He had witnessed the fear in her eyes, known instantly she was unprepared. The first trap alone would kill her, trick her into trusting senses she did not have to warn her. If Vesarius allowed Dorinda to stay pledged to him, he was asking her to die. He would not do it. His soul was not that important.

  If Dorinda rejected him, there would be no Vwafar´ee, no need to restore his citizenship. Vesarius would simply remain a rogue, an outcast. All would be as it had been for nearly a decade, he the first officer of the Pompeii, its tracker and navigator. All would be back to normal … except Dorinda would still be here. She would be with Coty. The boot would be on the other foot.

  Could Vesarius live as well as Coty with his feelings, then? No. Vesarius blocked his fists, jaw tightening to concrete. No; he could not. Only one alternative existed. Mentally Vesarius recalled Tundra and marched from the arboretum. He must talk to Coty.

  * * *

  Within the Pompeii’s conference room – one deck below the bridge – Vesarius watched Coty’s eyes narrow in stern disagreement at his request. “You can’t be serious,” the captain blurted. He crossed his arms, feet firmly planted to the deck. “You called me down here for this? Why? Because of this morning? Vesarius,” Coty hissed, “nothing happened. Dorinda and I would never -”

  “It has nothing to do with my outburst this morning,” Vesarius retorted. His spine was a plank of steel and buzzing nerves. “I simply must go.”

  “A transfer?” Coty’s bronzed hands dropped to his thighs. “What ship do you want, Sarius? Would a freighter be more your style?” With a huff, the captain smacked his leg. “Tell me what you’re not telling me, because I won’t even consider your request until you’re straight with me.”

  “I ... received instructions ... from my government last night,” Vesarius stuttered. “In order for my citizenship to be restored, to bond with a mate, I must face the Vwafar´ee ordeal.” He paused knowing subtlety wasn’t his style. “And so must Dorinda.” He avoided his captain’s critical stare.

  “The Vwafar´ee? Do Vesar still submit to that? I thought it was outlawed.”

  “It is still viewed as a valued means for redemption. My deviation from tradition, the manner of my dishonor, and my request for bonding require that both Dorinda and I submit to Vwafar´ee.”

  “So, to avoid making Dorinda take the same risk, you want a transfer off the ship? Vesarius, have you had time to think about this? Has Dori?”

  Scowling Vesarius rumbled on his reasoning. “Dorinda is human. She will die if she attempts the Vwafar´ee. I have already released her of my pledge.”

  Coty’s eyes swelled. “You did what?” He guffawed without humor. “I can imagine how she took that. I know what a pledge of bonding means to a Vesar. I also know how a broken engagement affects most women.” Pulling out a conference chair, Coty plopped down on the smooth black surface of the table and refolded his arms. Vesarius remained a mahogany pillar of silent resolve. “Dorinda told you she’d go with you? Do this Vwafar´ee, didn’t she?” Coty frowned, awaiting his officer’s answer.

  Vesarius waggled his braid. “She does not understand the difficulty, the danger.”

  “You don’t think she’s capable of learning from you? I know you’ve been impressed with her training so far. If you need an extended leave to finish her training, Sarius, you’ve got it.”

  The Vesar’s doggedness melted into a granite glower. “At first I thought perhaps she might be capable. That I could protect her. But then I considered her human physiology.” Vesarius sighed. “She will die, Bear. Many Vesar – fully trained warriors – have failed this trial. Dorinda is human. She has not experienced the life-long training of a Vesar warrior.”

  “Why do you even have to do this at all?” Coty slid from the table lowering his arms to gesture. “You and Dorinda are already mated. Why go through the formalities of a traditional Vesar bonding ceremony? For the sake of future generations?”

  “It is tradition,” Vesarius snapped back.

  “So break it,” Coty countered hotly. He swung an arm at the Vesar’s face. “You did it once before.”

  “Yes,” Vesarius agreed in a gravelly bass. “And I lost my honor. I will not risk Dorinda’s life to keep that honor. I would rather live without her.”

  Throwing up his hands and eyes in frustration, Coty stepped away from his resolute officer. “You really are a piece of work, Vesarius,” he blurted to the air. “You’re given the chance of a lifetime: true love and understanding. And you reject it on a technicality?” Twisting back to the Vesar, Coty stomped to shove his face in the taller man’s. “Reque
st denied.” The captain waved the warrior out. “Dismissed.”

  With a timber stiff spine, Vesarius lurched forward and launched himself from the room. Fury fueled his incinerator heart. He must make Dorinda agree with him. He must show her the deadliness of the Vwafar´ee, the futility of the attempt. She must agree that separation was the only alternative. He could love her no longer.

  Two choices: Lose his honor again and be damned at death if he stayed. Honor but loneliness if he left. Dorinda would learn to love Coty. She was strong; with time, she would learn to forgive Vesarius for what must be done.

  But the mission. He could not leave yet. The Alliance was depending on peace with the Orthops. Vesarius was to be the key to that peace, the catalyst. He must stay until then. After the mission he would tell Dorinda he was leaving. Vesarius would tell her why so she understood. Releasing Dorinda from the pledge would allow her the freedom to live, to love Coty, to be happy. Vesarius could then fade from their memories.

  In retrospect, Vesarius admitted he should have stayed dead. Striding through the corridor, the Vesar headed for his cabin. His mission orders were due in this morning before his duty shift. He would wait for them. Perhaps they would give him some sense of direction, some purpose.

  Tundra met him at his cabin door. “A visitor? I do not desire to see anyone, Tundra. Send them away.” Vesarius grumbled at the intrusion and marched into his quarters, dimly lit and in shadow. Dorinda. She was here, and she had come during the dayshift when people had seen her enter. “I told you not to -” He stalled for his eyes had adjusted to discern, not a person, but an object upon the bed, something dark and slender. Striding forward, Vesarius picked the object from the wrinkled bedcovers and turned it in his hands.

  It was a thin tube of ebony wood, a third of a meter long, and perforated with eight holes lined along just one side. One end of the tube had been carved into a narrow, flattened cone with a slivered opening perpendicular to the round, chamfered holes along the instrument’s top. A Vesar ritual flute! Fringes of leather and totem beads dangled from the far end of the tube, and Vesar hawk feathers were tied to the tapered end of the mouthpiece with a thin, tightly braided, leather cord. Where had it come from?

  Yipping in impatience, Tundra strode forward to nudge him. “Dorinda left this?” Vesarius considered the expert craftsmanship. “But why?” In answer, the malamute Kin groaned in irritation and nosed the black storage crystal also on the bed. He whined lowly. “You have been waiting to answer the same questions,” Vesarius realized and took the disc from the dog.

  Turning to his computer, Vesarius placed the storage disc into the horizontal slot below the thin monitor, then sat down at the desk, flute in hand. As he watched, Tundra by his side, Vesarius absently fingered the flute’s holes and carved Vesar symbols.

  Dorinda’s calm, ivory face coalesced on the screen. “Vesarius,” she said. “I meant for you to have this as a bonding gift. Coty and I were able to order it from the Vesar archives, and it was shipped by light freighter a few days ago.”

  Vesarius recalled the small vessel which had docked with the Pompeii. He thought it had only brought Jonas some special tools for his enhanced ion drive units. The engineer was ever-perfecting his design, coaxing even more power from the Pompeii’s triple engines.

  “But when you wished to break your pledge with me,” Dorinda continued on the screen, “I figured I better give it to you now. Please. Come see me in the arboretum after your shift. I’ll be in the usual place. We need to talk.” Dorinda’s face was awash with concern. “I want you to know just how I feel. If there’s a more private place, please have Tundra tell Noah. I’ll be working in the library most of the day.” Her face looked away as if to turn off the recording, but quickly she added, “Oh, and if you want the meaning behind the gift, look up the name Kokopelli in the Earth history archives. I think you’ll be pleased.” Dorinda’s eyes rounded to emerald velvet. “I love you, Vesarius. Nothing can change that.”

  The image faded from the screen, but not from the Vesar’s mind. Vesarius leaned back and closed his obsidian eyes with a heavy sigh. Her voice still echoed in his head, her words fought battles with his conscience. He must make her hate him.

  Grimly, Vesarius rose from his chair to lay the flute upon his desk. He popped out the storage ring to set beside it. Next he checked his wrist chrono. Alliance Command’s orders would arrive in another hour.

  Suddenly Vesarius could not just sit and wait for them. With one last glance at the ebony instrument which was to be his bonding gift, Vesarius realized he needed to work out his inner turmoil. “Tundra,” he rumbled and strode from his cabin for the recreational facilities one deck below. The warrior had learned from experience, a strenuous workout would help burn his Fury without causing damage to the ship or himself.

  Chapter 3: Grim Revelations

  Vesarius received the call from the bridge just four minutes later than he had expected. He finished braiding his hair on the way from the recreational showers and strode onto the Pompeii’s control deck letting his eyes survey the room.

  Coty acknowledged his arrival with a nod and slid from his center seat. “Play the transmission, Moxland,” he instructed.

  Moving to stand beside his captain, the argument of an hour ago forgotten, Vesarius watched the forward viewscreen. The dark monitor lightened, coalescing into an office with an elderly, gray-haired Asian at the center desk.

  Maj. Gen. Taylor Chan folded his arthritic hands before him and nodded at his intended audience. “Capt. Coty, Cmdr. Tankawankanyi. I have researched all available information on Orthop culture and the Mytoki civilization and have concluded that there are only two proposals we need present.

  “The Pompeii will proceed to the Orthop homeworld as scheduled. There you will present our peaceful intentions, then take on a small assembly of Orthop diplomats to ferry back to Tlonnis for the official terms of the treaty. Since we know Orthops regularly monitor our open interstellar transmissions, their delegation will remain in the public eye, ensuring the Orthop homeworld of their safety.”

  Vesarius frowned. What about the alien delegates’ health? Orthops too long from their queen perished. Perhaps only the most powerful queenkeepers could sustain themselves so removed from their leader’s thoughts, their hive-generated life-forces. Vesarius swallowed his straying thoughts as Chan continued.

  “Meanwhile, an equal-sized group of Alliance representatives will remain on Orthop to negotiate trading and visiting privileges within the sector.” Chan unfolded his hands to lay them flat upon his desk. “As always, Capt. Coty, you are in charge of the Pompeii. Cmdr. Tankawankanyi, your duty is to the Alliance delegation sent to open negotiations with Orthop. As a show of good faith, both of you will be present on first landing to ensure an open welcome.

  “Peace, gentlemen, is our goal. Under no circumstances will the Pompeii open fire on any Orthop ship or on the planet itself. If, for any reason, there is a breakdown in communications, the Pompeii will withdrawal with all Alliance personnel. You will contact me immediately before taking any further actions.”

  Maj. Gen. Chan took a deep breath before adding, “An Alliance transport will rendezvous with the Pompeii within two days. You’ll extend all generosities to our delegates. They must be in the best mind frame to open a positive line of communication with Orthop. A dossier of each delegate is provided in both of your encoded orders.” The general sighed and nodded once. “I expect success, gentlemen, and I’ll be anticipating your reports and the Orthop emissaries within the month. Their safety is your responsibility, Captain.” The transmission faded.

  “That’s it, Sir,” Moxland stated from her post to the left of the captain’s seat.

  “Cordial, isn’t he?” Coty quipped sliding back into his chair. “Chan never did care for pep talks or warm goodbyes.” The captain swung his seat around to consider his communications officer. “Are our orders available for private viewing, Moxie?”

  “Yes, Sir. Yours and the
commander’s.” Moxland pulled two computer rings from her station’s recording terminal. “They’re encoded for each of you.”

  Rising, Coty leaned over to take the rings. “Good.” He passed his first officer his copy. “I hope there aren’t any contradictions here, my friend.” The captain swished his storage disc in illustration. “Gen. Chan doesn’t always consider our best interests.”

  “He is too preoccupied with Alliance interests,” Vesarius agreed with a grim nod. Inwardly the warrior disliked the subtle smoothness of the crystal ring perched in his mahogany fingertips. What conflicts were surely stored upon it?

  Considering the woman sitting expectantly at the computer station between navigation and the forward viewscreen, Coty dismissed himself and his first officer. “You’ve got the bridge, Zan. We’ll be in our respective quarters reviewing these. If there’s anything worth sharing, I’ll let you all know.”

  Vesarius followed his captain into the lift. The warrior also hoped his encoded orders were not in opposition to his captain’s. He already knew by Chan’s general guidelines that he would most likely be one member to stay behind on Orthop with the Alliance delegation.

  Perhaps that could be fortuitous, Vesarius realized. Dorinda would stay with Coty on the Pompeii. Vesarius would turn her away, then become absent from her life, perhaps forever.

  The lift doors opened onto level two, and Michael Bear Coty stepped out. “Good reading, my brother,” he said and strode away. The captain’s immediate future had been reduced to an encoded storage disc.

  Clenching his own destiny in one mahogany fist, Vesarius rode the lift one more level down to his quarters. The Vesar’s conflicting thoughts formed plans, his emotions smashed them. He must wait. Wait until he knew for sure of his orders, then he could plan his meeting with Dorinda.

  She would be waiting in the arboretum at shift’s end. Vesarius could tell her then he no longer desired her in his life, explain to her the alienness of their bonding. A human was, after all, an unacceptable mate for a Vesar. Vesarius frowned. In actuality it would not be a lie. He had not told the Vesar Council that his mate was human. He wanted to wait until they had approved his citizenship before divulging his intended partner. Now that they had demanded Vwafar´ee, the Vesar Council would know the truth.