Warrior Spirit

by Laura Kaighn

  When he had reached the assembly, the Orthop spectators lumbered aside to allow him passage. Nodding at his twin walls of insect observers, Vesarius strode forward and quickly smiled. Beyond the reverent onlookers, Tolianksalya stood facing a towering creature nearly a meter taller than he. The Orthop gesticulated wildly in animated argument, its razor claws just centimeters from the Vesar’s face. The ambassador returned the sentiment, waving a dismissing arm and pounding his heart in Vesar challenge.

  So. Relations were improving. At least the ambassador was getting more words in.

  With a twinge of roiling stomach muscles, Vesarius watched Dorinda step forward to place her hand calmingly upon Tolianksalya’s arm. If she only knew what the Vesar ambassador had done to his life, his honor and self-respect. Vesarius should have been executed for his past crime, mercilessly and without the warrior ceremony. But Tolianksalya had seen living dishonor as the more profitable punishment. Vesarius’ cruel uncle had understood – for the fallen warrior – suicide was a dishonorable, cowardly option.

  Was that perhaps why Vesarius often chose the most dangerous situations? Was it a subconscious desire to perish that caused him to jump before plasma fire and risk injury?

  Vesarius recalled a day not long ago on Mytok. He had been helping the Pompeii’s crew defend the time Arch from Orthop control. Vesarius had climbed the oversized steps to the machine, to protect it directly from any invader drawing close to the control dais. A stray plasma bolt had shoved him back through the Arch, into another time and the care of a frightened human woman.

  Perhaps Vesarius’ inner desire to die in battle had ultimately been his salvation. For without Dorinda, his honor would still be lost to him. Dorinda had been the catalyst to his new future, one brightened by her courage and her love. She was his protector as the osprey was hers.

  With that renewed confidence, Vesarius straightened his spine and strode forward to gently clasp the woman’s shoulder in one long-fingered hand. Distracted from her attempt to subdue the ambassador’s ire, Dorinda pivoted from the argument and beamed. “Sarius!” Watching her stifle an urge to embrace him, Vesarius nodded approvingly at her relieved sigh. “I was so worried. You’ve been gone almost an hour. What’s going on?”

  Reassuring her with a raised hand and regarding the now expectant ambassador, Vesarius said simply, “I was addressed by the queen. Their voicer acted as speaker.”

  “You spoke to her?” Tolianksalya inquired, his wrath clearly not quite dissipated. The Vesar dignitary had simply rerouted his frustration.

  “Through a substitute, yes. She wishes me to read the law to her people.” Vesarius did not add that he was to be an honored guest. The ambassador was feeling useless enough.

  “Why you?”

  “Because it was requested of him,” the Orthop high chancellor interceded. “He is our honored visitor, spokesman for the Mytoki.”

  Vesarius watched Tolianksalya’s face darken. “We are here to open relations, Ambassador,” he quickly added. “I saw it as a prime opportunity to do just that.”

  “Indeed, Commander. Very well. Please continue.” Tolianksalya was anything but gracious in his agreement. Those coal eyes still smoldered.

  At the sweep of the high chancellor’s foreclaw, Vesarius swallowed his own pride and strode forward through the waiting crowd. Suddenly a rumbling of Orthop voices rose in intensity until Vesarius had to clamp his ears. “What is it?” he hollered over the din, eardrums rattling.

  “Our welcoming song. You are our newest pupa, a member of the hive.”

  Vesarius cringed at the grating chorus. “I am honored.”

  “Please, continue forward, Storyteller. All wish to meet you.”

  As Vesarius fumbled among the chanters, his teeth began to ache. Could he endure this auditory assault for the length of time it would take to traverse the throng? Were the others so affected by the discord? Surely his Vesar companions were feeling the resonance of the song as he was – to the very marrow of his bones. No variety existed to the song, only a steady rumbling of air, a vibration of matter, like the roiling of a great onrushing torrent.

  Now his legs ached with every step as if they were jackhammers. Vesarius grimaced. This singing would kill him, even as he was welcomed into the hive. “Do the others hear this?” he growled now unable to focus on the path before him.

  “The song is for you, Storyteller.” Vesarius barely heard the high chancellor’s innocent answer.

  “They ... do not ... feel ... this?” Now his knees buckled under his own weight. Dropping his arms, pack sliding from his shoulder, Vesarius sank to the plaza. Quivering palms futile weapons against the resonant onslaught in his skull, Vesarius could only bellow one last plea. “Coty!” Then there was a welcoming silence as a black fog engulfed him.

  Chapter 8: Chance Encounters

  Dorinda stiffened sensing sudden jeopardy. What was wrong? First Vesarius had yelled a question, then a sarcastic retort. He had asked if the others had heard it. “Hear what?”

  “I don’t know,” Coty offered from beside her. Taking her arm he tiptoed to a better view. “I can’t see him in this crowd.”

  “Coty!”

  Dorinda witnessed Vesarius’ bellow. It was a hail taut with agony and alarm. “No!” she shrieked. Propelled by her own angst, Dorinda shot forward into the towering crowd. Coty bounded beside her. They ricocheted off several of the stock column Orthops in their rush. “Sarius!” Dorinda’s frantic summons was shrill in her own ears. Where was he? Among the forest of creamy armor, there was no sign of her Vesar mate. “Vesarius!”

  “Where is he?” Coty yelled from not far away. “Dori, try closing your eyes. Feel him out.”

  “Feel?”

  “You can find him,” the captain insisted. Suddenly Coty burst through a pair of creatures and grabbed her arm. “Your gift,” he reminded. “Focus on Vesarius. Where he is. See him, Dori.”

  With a deep breath laced in panic, Dorinda closed her eyes and stepped forward through the Orthop horde. Another step. Another. Dorinda opened her mind to the blackness behind her lids, to the light beyond. Find Vesarius.

  “He is in hibernation,” an Orthop clicked through Dorinda’s wrist translator.

  “He does not move,” said another.

  Dorinda’s eyes flung wide and she shouldered between a set of carapaced aliens to squeeze into the center of their tight circle. “Michael!” Dorinda cried when she saw the crumpled body at her feet. Vesarius’ curled frame trembled. His face was contorted in agony, eyes pressed shut.

  “Here,” Coty answered a second later shoving into the ring of onlookers. He had shadowed her.

  “He has collapsed,” the high chancellor started to explain. “I do not know why.”

  “You don’t know?” Dorinda snapped. “He was in pain.” She knelt to feel for the unconscious Vesar’s pulse at the back of his neck. “He’s alive,” she sighed. “Michael, his heart’s racing. Really fast.”

  “Accelerated shock,” Coty affirmed nodding grimly beside her. “We’ve got to get him back to the ship. Sheradon needs to administer a tranquilizer.”

  “What happened?” Dorinda demanded cradling the downed Vesar’s head in her lap.

  Coty raised concerned eyes to the engulfing ring of onlookers. “High Chancellor, the commander needs medical attention. Your ... welcome caused an adverse reaction. We must move him to the transport, to the ship. Our doctor is on the Pompeii. “

  “He is in danger?” came a skeptical Orthop inquiry. “He is not merely in hibernation?”

  “No, Chancellor,” Dorinda countered. “Your singing attacked his central nervous system. He’s in shock.” Glancing to see Coty’s worried face, she understood the condition’s severity. With her own dark panic she added, “He’ll die.”

  “Storyteller must not cease,” an Orthop interjected.

  “He is needed to tell us the law, Chancellor,” said another. “Allow them to go.”

  “Of course,” the high ch
ancellor said leaning out of the way. “Step back, Brothers. Let the Alliance creatures take Storyteller back to their ship.”

  “Thank you, Wise One,” Dorinda breathed grabbing Vesarius’ tensed arm. She helped Coty haul their friend off the crystalline plaza. “He’s shaking like a leaf.”

  Grunting with the effort, Coty hefted Vesarius higher onto his shoulder. Soon the warrior was slung between them, his longer legs dragging the ground. They headed for the ambassador’s transport.

  “His body’s retaliating against an unknown enemy,” the captain explained. “He’ll burn himself out unless we get him settled down.”

  “Will he fight us?” Dorinda groaned. The Vesar’s head was flopped forward, face obscured in shadow. She remembered his expression, however, his mouth twisted in pain. “I heard nothing. Neither did the ambassador. Wouldn’t he’ve been affected by the song too? The other Vesar?”

  “Not if the Orthops’ emissions were focused. Directed straight at him.” As the two humans proceeded forward under their burden, their alien entourage moved aside to allow them passage.

  Though she grunted with the effort of dragging her cumbersome friend along, Dorinda exclaimed, “Like whale echolocation! They stunned him like a dolphin stuns a fish. When you’re … in the water with them you … can feel the whale’s song throughout your body.”

  “That’s probably it,” Coty huffed. “But a Vesar’s nervous system sometimes doesn’t automatically shut off when it’s overloaded. We’ve got to drop his adrenaline level.”

  “Sarius, it’s all right,” Dorinda panted trying to get a better grip of her friend. “They’ve stopped.” The trio weren’t even halfway to the shuttle yet. “Wake up.”

  “He won’t respond. I’ve tried it before. Once he was shoved into a live electrical field. We were nowhere near a medical facility.”

  “How did you save him?”

  Coty grimaced from the memory and lurched forward under the Vesar’s trembling bulk. “We dunked him in an ice bath. Cooled him off in half-an-hour. Then we had to warm him up again. Fought us the entire time.”

  Glancing about their desert surroundings, Dorinda groaned, “No ice here.” She grimaced at her mate’s drooping head. “We need a stretcher. Or a couple of Orthops. This’ll take too long ... To get to the transport.”

  “I’ll bring the shuttle here,” Coty decided. He shrugged the Vesar’s arm from his shoulder. “Sit with him, Dori.” With Dorinda cradling his head they lowered the quaking Vesar to the plaza tiles.

  “Hurry, Michael.”

  “Talk to him,” Coty suggested. “It might help.”

  With a grim nod, Dorinda watched her captain bound off for the avenue and the escalator that would take him up to the Vragjok’s landing platform.

  “Where has your captain gone? He abandons our storyteller.” One of the curious creatures now towered over the pair sprawled on the ground.

  “No, Wise One. Coty’ll bring the ship.” With his head in her lap, Dorinda again felt for Vesarius’ rapid pulse. She caressed his mahogany jaw.

  “Perhaps I can be of assistance,” offered another Orthop, one with a cryptic symbol painted across his left foreclaw. “I am a healer.”

  With a worried frown, Dorinda declined. “Forgive me, Healer. Vesarius needs the attention of an Alliance doctor. Someone who’s familiar with Vesar physiology.” Stroking some stray raven strands from the Vesar’s creased brow, Dorinda bent to whisper into his unresponsive ear. “Hold on, Sarius. Michael’s coming.”

  “What has happened?”

  Flinching at the harsh words and the sudden proximity of quadruple Vesar glares leaning over her, Dorinda fumbled with her explanation and her hands. “Ambassador. He’s ... in accelerated shock. The Orthops’ welcoming song attacked his nervous system.”

  “So you sit there? Let him die a stlás? I felt nothing.”

  Narrowing her eyes at the Vesar quartet, Dorinda retorted, “The chant wasn’t directed at you. If it had been, Ambassador, you’d be like him: a crumpled mass of muscle.”

  Blinking, Tolianksalya straightened. “Get him up. If he cannot stand alone, leave him. We must continue with the mission.”

  “What? No. Coty’s bringing help. Vesarius needs medical attention.”

  “The mission is more important,” Tolianksalya countered, palms planted atop vermillion-clad hips. He waved Saliaktayla forward. “Get him up.”

  “Wait! No!” The cobalt-adorned security officer bent to grab Vesarius’ arm. “Don’t move him. Sarius!” Abruptly Vesarius jerked an arm. His eyes bolted open. With a lurch, the downed Vesar swung a fist at the approaching face. Dorinda leaned from her friend’s attack, but Saliaktayla was swiped along the cheekbone. “Sarius, calm down. Stop it.”

  Shaking his head clear, Saliaktayla ducked another flailing arm to snatch at the passing appendage. He hauled the afflicted Vesar to his boots in one powerful tug. Dorinda jumped to her feet a second later.

  “Now, let him go,” Tolianksalya commanded. “He must stand alone.”

  “No. He’s in shock,” Dorinda tried to reason. “He’ll only collapse. You’ll hurt him.”

  No one listened. As the ambassador’s security officer released his steel grip on Vesarius, Tolianksalya leaned forward to jam stony knuckles into her friend’s heart. Vesarius spun with the momentum then landed roughly on his hands and knees. Dorinda dropped beside him horrified.

  “At attention, Commander,” Tolianksalya snapped.

  “Stop it!” Dorinda demanded. “Is this how you doctor your people? With violence?” Her hand braced her friend’s unsteady shoulder as she tossed the ambassador and his men an icy glare.

  “I am unharmed,” Vesarius gasped hoarsely. His head tilted to squint at the bright Orthop sun. A silver, streamlined silhouette was descending on the emptying plaza. Its engines thrummed. “Coty has brought the transport,” he observed raggedly. “Are we leaving?”

  “You’re all right? Michael said you were in shock.” Dorinda still steadied his chin.

  “The ambassador used the correct procedure,” Vesarius answered hoarsely and leaned back on his knees to massage his right shoulder blade. “The heart needed to be jolted back to a normal rhythm.” He locked ebony eyes with hers and must have seen the concern there. “I will be all right.”

  “Now. At attention, Commander,” Tolianksalya growled again. “The mission.”

  “Yes, Vesarius,” her mate coughed forcing his feet under him before lurching vertical. With a steadying hand Dorinda rose beside him.

  Coty was sprinting their way, but stalled when he saw his first officer regain his footing. “You cured him,” he panted to Dorinda.

  “No,” she retorted. Her thumb poked blame. “The ambassador did, with a right hook to the heart.”

  Coty’s dark eyes widened searching the assembled faces. “Punched him?”

  “Yes, my friend,” Vesarius answered squaring his shoulders and straightening his leather tunic. “It is how dautra´ree is remedied. My heart required a jolt. The effects will wear off shortly.”

  “Can you walk to the transport?”

  “No, I must stay,” Vesarius countered. “I am to read the law to the people.”

  “Dr. Sheradon’ll want to check you out,” Coty argued. “You’re my responsibility, Commander.”

  “I am unharmed, Captain,” Vesarius assured still breathing heavily and visibly quaking with adrenaline. “Dautra´ree lasts only a short time with proper treatment. Ambassador Tolianksalya has assisted me.”

  “We are not leaving, Capt. Coty,” the ambassador asserted with authority. “Positive relations must be established.”

  “Our storyteller is unharmed?” came a surprisingly concerned inquiry from the septuplet of wrist translators. The Orthop high chancellor lumbered toward them, his entourage of aides ambulating behind. From one curled foreclaw hung Vesarius’ pack.

  “I am uninjured, High Chancellor,” Vesarius explained for himself. “Your welcoming song simply caused
a malfunction of my body’s security system. It has been corrected.”

  “Then you will be able to read our people the wisdom stone. Come.” Handing Vesarius his pack the high chancellor waved them all back toward the open plaza.

  Nodding his thanks for the return of his belongings, Vesarius unsteadily slid the pack onto his injured shoulder and followed the queenkeeper to his assembled audience. “Will there be a need to repeat the welcoming song, High Chancellor?”

  “No, honored-guest-of-the-queen. We will not again risk your injury. All know that you are of the hive. All will hear your words from the wisdom stone and rejoice in its telling. You will be welcomed by our gratitude.”

  Following right behind him, Dorinda could see the unsteadiness of Vesarius’ strides. “He’s not unharmed,” she mumbled under her breath.

  “He wouldn’t lie to us,” Coty asserted. “Once the adrenaline wears off, he’ll be back to normal.”

  Dorinda stepped closer to her captain trying to avoid the ears of the accompanying Vesar. “I still don’t like how they handled that. I think Tolianksalya enjoyed punching Sarius.”

  “No doubt,” Coty agreed just as quietly. “But I can only protect my officers so much. Sarius can handle his own domestic affairs. These are his people. And the ambassador outranks all of us put together.”

  “No mistakes allowed,” Dorinda murmured.

  If Vesarius had protested his treatment, would the ambassador have considered it disrespectful? Would it have given Tolianksalya reason enough to deny them Vwafar´ee? Dorinda didn’t like the situation at all, and she was beginning to like the Vesar ambassador even less. Lord Acton’s adage flashed before her synapses; absolute power corrupts absolutely. She followed Vesarius to the raised speaking platform.