Warrior Spirit

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Warrior Spirit Page 11

by Laura Kaighn


  Nodding her agreement, Dorinda rubbed her arm again. “Sure. I’ll just be hanging around the gym, working off my frustrations.” Coty was already through the anteroom doors and heading down the corridor. She huffed. Damn, how indignant! Why did Coty think she’d go snooping around the delegation quarters asking a lot of questions? With a tension-releasing sigh, Dorinda inwardly conceded the truth.

  She’d want to know all about them. Want to know why Vesarius was not considered a Vesar citizen, and why he must die in the Vwafar´ee to regain a soul he had never lost. If indeed she allowed her curiosity and temper to run rampant, Dorinda’d probably get herself thrown out a disposal chute.

  Culture shock. No, she corrected. Culture block. Vesar culture held different beliefs – one of which said a Vesar’s soul was lost if he broke an old tradition to follow a dream. How primitive! How pagan! And how confining. Different, she conceded grudgingly. Yet no less valid. The Vesar had every right to their own beliefs, just as Muslims, Hindus, Catholics, and Jews did. And Dorinda Jade had every right to believe it total bunk!

  She knew Vesarius had a soul. His was nobler than many. Customs were written in stone only until the tablet took a fall. Perhaps it was time to rock the table. With a huff, Dorinda strode from the transport bay anteroom and headed for the recreational facilities one level up. She needed time to think, time to consider her best approach. Vesarius would need her help.

  Chapter 5: Dire Reunions

  His forehead constricted by tensed muscles, the Pompeii’s first officer marched into the ship’s observation lounge. He waved his charges toward a set of cushioned chairs near the room’s starscaped portal. “If you will excuse me a moment, I will order your refreshments,” Vesarius growled between clenched teeth then strode to a wall intercom to buzz the galley. After ordering several trays of sandwiches and snacks, and two pitchers of Vesar darktea, Vesarius spun back to his guests. He took a deep breath in defense of what he knew was coming. “Now, Vesariuses. What is it you desire to discuss?”

  “Sit down, Commander,” Tolianksalya ordered deeply. He rose from his own chair to glare down at the Pompeii’s officer. “I did not expect to ever see you alive again. I would have thought the shame alone enough to kill you.”

  With a hooded stare, Vesarius grumbled back from his seat, “I would have never taken the coward’s way, even without my honor.”

  “But now it has been returned,” the ambassador announced with more than a hint of lofty mockery. He shoved the cape back from his second shoulder to display yet another stylized tattoo. With fists planted atop hips, he declared, “We must hear of this meeting with your parents, since only they could return what you defiled.” When Vesarius only breathed a silent execration, Tolianksalya snapped a fiery retort. “I am judge of your soul, Tankawankanyi! Just as I was arbiter of your life and estate over eight years ago. You will tell me, or Vwafar´ee will be denied.”

  Rising from his offered chair, Vesarius snarled his answer. “I had a vision, Ambassador. My father was trapped between Huaj´im and the stars. I freed him, and he released me of my obligation. He restored my honor. Mother had done so in life, gifted me both family crests.”

  Tolianksalya’s wide brows leapt. His silver-streaked head jerked back. “Both medallions? Why?”

  “Mother knew I would not be returning home. I had been touched by ohk-shnái Vhahl-Shaukk, Fury’s gale. She accepted that I had been chosen to live among the stars.”

  “Despite tradition? Your duty to her? You did not share this before.”

  Squaring his shoulders, Vesarius replied, “My shame was great, the council’s justice swift. I accepted my guilt and your verdict ... at the time.”

  “But not now.”

  With a frown, Vesarius considered the three Vesar aides. “Must they be present? My return to citizenship does not concern them.”

  “My safety does,” the ambassador retorted. “Fury is a deadly weapon, as shame is a lethal motive.”

  “I feel no shame now, Vesarius,” the Pompeii’s first officer countered. “My parents have forgiven me. I need only regain my place in Vesar society.”

  The ambassador was nodding. “Yes. Your request.” Sighing in obvious antipathy, he slid onto a cushioned chair arm and added, “I was the dissenting vote. But then you realized that when the communiqué returned from the homeworld requiring Vwafar´ee.” Tolianksalya’s obsidian pits narrowed. “You believe, now that this vision has arrived, that we can overlook your breach in tradition nearly a decade old?” When Vesarius remained rigid, Tolianksalya pursued further. “Commander, you are an outlaw, in violation of Vesar society. I would have had you killed, but that your mother was my kin. Do not expect absolution. I have done all that I could. Vwafar´ee is the only alternative.”

  “You hate me ... that much,” Vesarius asserted with regret.

  “I believe the sentiment is a shared one,” the ambassador countered from beneath hooded brows. “There is no benefit to Vesar in your return.”

  “Then I will remain an outlaw,” Vesarius growled throwing his shoulders back and huffing. “Vwafar´ee is impossible.” Quietly he added why. “I would not be alone.”

  “Yes.” Tolianksalya’s brow tilted in curiosity. “Who is this female with whom you desire to bond? I was unaware a Vesar would have you.”

  “She is a noble woman, Ambassador,” the commander defended. “She sees the warrior inside, the one without shame. She is powerful and wise ... Honorable. A match to bond with me.”

  “Do you love her? Or is she simply a means to regain lost property and wealth?”

  Vesarius ignored the conflagration flushing his cheeks. Tolianksalya thought greed and security were behind this most serious request? His parents’ homestead had been lost to him for nearly a decade, the wealth barely felt before it was gone. That power had no meaning. “She is dear to me, Vesarius,” he asserted, again using the Vesar title to initiate a more favorable response. Tankawankanyi would kill the older man if he called him Grilcmzáe.

  “Commander,” the ambassador started with forced patience. “The council’s decision is final. You must prove that you have returned your heart to us. A Vesar cannot betray his heritage, break from tradition. You did once. Forgiveness must be earned. An example has been set for the rest.”

  Vesarius’ chin slumped to his chest. This was a useless argument. “Then I withdraw my request,” he said firmly, raising solemn eyes to stare into obsidian orbs so much like his own. “I will remain a pariah.”

  “A Grilcmzáe with no soul?” Tolianksalya was on his feet again. “It is unreasonable. You have lived this long, been a valuable member of this ship’s crew. Now that you have your honor, why do you not take the next step?”

  “Because failure would mean her death, Ambassador.” Vesarius’ voice trembled with adrenaline despite his attempt to calm his emotions. “I cannot ask her to do this.” His hands had hardened into steel orbs at his side.

  “Why not?” Tolianksalya waved a massive arm at Vesarius’ face. “Any Vesar matriarch who has agreed to your pledge would be honored to face the Vwafar´ee by your side.” He pounded his heart with a fist. “Your souls would merge at death. Why condemn yourself when there is redemption together?”

  “I withdraw, Ambassador Tolianksalya,” Vesarius reaffirmed with a growl of finality. “I will not talk of this further.”

  The older Vesar leaned into Vesarius’ face, his eyes steaming coals. “Then await Huaj´im, Grilcmzáe,” he hissed between gritted teeth. “We work together only under Alliance orders. I will call you if you are needed. Dismissed.”

  Stifling a furious urge to seize the man’s throat, Cmdr. Tankawankanyi snapped a crisp, ironic salute then spun to march from the room. In his retreat, the Pompeii’s first officer wondered: If Tolianksalya was unwilling to revoke the decision of Vwafar´ee, why had he even spoken of it? Could the ambassador have wanted Vesarius’ motivation? Now that he had it, the ambassador seemed even more determined to have them undertake th
e test.

  Vesarius could not reveal that his mate was human. The ambassador would refuse even the Vwafar´ee. Tolianksalya must not know to whom Vesarius was pledged. He must talk to Dorinda before she unknowingly spoke of it within Vesar hearing. Coty must know as well. The commander was immediately impelled to seek Dorinda’s company.

  He found her otter Kinpanion bobbing in the crystal clear water of the Pompeii’s pool on the recreation deck. “Noah, where is Dorinda?” The otter simply chirped a reply, the picture words beyond the capability of one not within closer proximity nor bonded to him. Vesarius clenched his teeth and fumed impatiently. Tundra was more adept at trans-communication, perhaps because the malamute Kin had his own version of a high PSY rating. Noah, however, would be of little help.

  Next Vesarius tried Sheradon’s office. Only Arabbi Tjon, Yolonda’s second, was available. The Indian woman shrugged at the inquiry, consulted her orangutan Kin Sumatra then shrugged again. “I’m sorry, Commander. Yolonda’s at a staff meeting. She won’t be back for an hour.”

  With a stern nod, Vesarius strode into the corridor. Dorinda could not still be hiding from him. She must have heard the announcement of the transport’s arrival. Silently, Vesarius consulted his Kin. Tundra, who was busy reviewing last year’s tracking competition holograms, could only picture Dorinda’s face among the welcoming party for the Vesar delegates.

  She had been there? Then she knew he was disgraced before his people. She knew he was an outcast, a Grilcmzáe, a soulless being who haunted the very fiber of Vesar society. Dorinda must also now know why Vwafar´ee was the only redemption possible for him, for her.

  Though skin, features, and Fury might still exist, to the Vesar he was no more than a shell of their world. His soul had been stolen away, and it would take nothing less than Vwafar´ee to regain it. Others so disgraced had tried, faced the same peril for lesser crimes. Some had found redemption, some death. Perhaps someday Vesarius would accept the test, but not before he was alone. A tentative strategy simmered in his tortured brain. He must consult Coty.

  The captain would be on the bridge. Stepping to the nearest intercom station, Vesarius buzzed Moxland’s post. He requested a moment with his captain. Coty answered his call. “I must speak with you in private,” Vesarius told his friend.

  “Professional or personal, Commander?”

  Vesarius blinked. He had never before been asked to specify when seeking an audience with his human brother. “Both, Captain.”

  “All right. I’ll give you five in my office.” Shutting off the intercom, Vesarius took the lift from level four to Coty’s private office one sublevel below the bridge. The captain was waiting for him, propped against his dark wood desk, navy-sleeved arms crossed before his chest. “You know I have no power to influence Central Command,” Coty started with a scowl when Vesarius moved to stand before him. “I can’t tell the ambassador to shove it, either. You have to work with him.”

  “Unfortunately,” Vesarius agreed flatly. “I must know what you know of him ... of us.”

  “Well,” Coty started shoving himself away from his desk. He sidled around to plop down in the chair. “Since that warm greeting he gave you, I’ve had a more detailed dossier retrieved from the computer.” Coty sighed and waved his friend to a seat across from him. “He’s your uncle, your mother’s brother. So?”

  “He is mated, bonded,” Vesarius clarified sliding into the offered seat, “to a very powerful woman who owns much wealth and prime stock land on the homeworld. Ambassador Tolianksalya was also a prominent member of the Vesar Council. Apparently, he is still.”

  “Ah,” Coty uttered leaning forward and resting his hands on the desktop. “Your friendly neighborhood lynch mob. Is he the one who voted against granting your citizenship?”

  “Yes,” Vesarius mumbled lowering his eyes. “He was also the one to inherit my mother’s homestead when I was dishonored. The council runs the property as a government resource, but Tolianksalya holds its deed. A profitable zircontian crystal mine sits within the mountain behind the house.” Vesarius paused before adding, “Nine years ago, Tolianksalya was the deciding vote to have me outcast from Vesar rather than executed. By keeping me alive, the Tankawankanyi mine could still be owned by its kin.” Vesarius glanced up at his captain with ironic loathing. “I am supposed to be grateful.”

  “Because he saved your life?” Coty voiced for him. “Does he expect you to honor him for it?”

  “He was devoted to my mother,” Vesarius explained. “I disgraced him, her family, by allowing her death.”

  Coty leaned even farther forward. “Sarius, it’s past history, almost a decade now.” Then the captain sighed. “Leave it to a Vesar to hold such a grudge. I gather he still hates you.”

  “Yes.” Vesarius slumped to rest his chin on his chest. “I believe he wants Vwafar´ee simply to be rid of me. He did not know I was still alive. He had retired from the council. Tolianksalya must have heard of my involvement in the Orthop peace talks. Then my request came to his attention.”

  Smirking, Coty tilted his head in understanding. “You really pissed him off, didn’t you?”

  Vesarius was not so amused. “He would be enraged to discover to whom ... to what I am pledged to be bonded. Dorinda is yet another insult to his blood history, his birth name, Tankawankanyi.”

  Coty leaned into his seat and exhaled heavily, rubbing tired eyes. “You obviously don’t want him to find out.” The captain rose to his feet. “I can keep a secret, Sarius. You know that.”

  “Thank you, Bear.” Vesarius rose also and extended his arm across the table for a hand clasp. “Your friendship has kept me alive since my dishonor. Tolianksalya could never understand what I have gained in breaking from an ancient and restrictive tradition.” Vesarius took back his arm to nod in stoic fact. “You have given me my freedom.” He saluted his captain in the Vesar tradition then turned to leave. “I must now instill the same silence upon Dorinda. She cannot hint at what we have shared.”

  Coty stopped him at the door. “You didn’t know your uncle was still active on the council, did you?”

  “No, he had intended to retire from office after my dismissal. His grief ...” Vesarius swallowed knowing that same pain showed on his own face. “Perhaps he rejoined only because of me, because of my request. I had desired to keep it from him.”

  Shrugging in irony, Coty offered his wisdom. “Dirt gets around, Sarius. If you sweep it under the rug, it’s still there.”

  The Vesar twitched his wide mouth. “An ancient Lakota proverb?”

  Coty grasped the larger man’s mahogany shoulder. “A universal truth, my friend,” he corrected. “Try the gym,” the captain added with a slap.

  “Why?”

  “Dorinda.”

  “Oh.” Vesarius nodded.

  “She was hiding in the observation lounge, by the way. How bad she beating you, anyway?”

  Vesarius twisted a smirk. “She is the best pupil I have had since you, my brother. Perhaps your PSY abilities have something to do with it.”

  “Sure. Don’t give us lowly Khumahns any credit for our intelligence,” Coty quipped using the Vesar derogatory term. “Have you rethought your plans?”

  Vesarius flinched at the change of subject. “You mean my request for a transfer?”

  “If you haven’t, you will,” Coty assured with another smack to his shoulder. He passed Vesarius at the door to stride for the lift and the bridge without another word in explanation.

  As Vesarius headed for the gymnasium, he began to see the captain’s point of view. To avoid the inevitable was cowardly. Destiny was too powerful. His creator Brahmanii Sule had already written the Vesar’s history. Dorinda was in his life for a reason – perhaps to end his loneliness and isolation. Kindred spirits, Coty had called it. The three of them were alike in many ways. And all knew the love and companionship of the other. It was an understanding beyond tradition or custom, Vesarius realized. Their friendship traversed more boundaries th
an the ship within which they rode the stars.

  Upon crossing the threshold into the Pompeii’s gym, Vesarius froze. There on a mat stood two women, diametrically opposed both in skill and stature. Both opposite in conviction. Both facing each other in combat.

  Roshana Zlenko leaned into the embrace. With a powerful tug, she tossed Dorinda back over her shoulder and flat onto the mat. “Whoa!” Dorinda exclaimed jumping back to her feet. “That was great. You broke my grip.”

  “You mustn’t let your opponent trick you into relaxing,” Roshana explained. “Now, try this.” She took Dorinda’s arms again. “Watch for weakness, an opening or break in my concentration.” A moment passed while Vesarius watched from nearly a room away. He leaned against the wall and almost missed Dorinda’s chance. Roshana wiggled her foot for a better grasp of the mat. Seizing the opportunity, Dorinda bent her knee and twisted Roshana onto the floor in an angled throw. “Very good,” Zlenko panted. “You saw the opening. You learn quickly, Jade. It is a matter of balance and controlled power.”

  “Oh, I’m just beginning. I’ve got a lot to learn and too little time. Let’s do that again.”

  Roshana was on her feet once more facing the smaller, slighter woman. “All right. We’ll have you fit by your deadline yet.”

  Deadline? What deadline? As Vesarius watched the security corporal teaching his companion the basics of judo, he realized Dorinda’s goal and understood Coty’s words. She was preparing herself for the Vwafar´ee! He had done nothing with his coldness but make her more determined to prove him wrong. Warmth rose to his cheeks, and a smile broke his austere, mahogany complexion. If she was as stubborn as he, then the Vwafar´ee might actually be possible.

  But he would not break her concentration, Dorinda’s inner drive. Her conviction to prove him wrong would train her well.

  Quickly, Vesarius withdrew from the gym unnoticed. He could not let Dorinda know he was aware of this training. They would reach Orthop in eleven days. Vesarius must busy himself with the mission, must leave Dorinda little time for distractions. Alone, her skills would improve; they had to if she was to survive Vwafar´ee. Silently, Vesarius left for the observation lounge.

 

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