Warrior Spirit

by Laura Kaighn

  “Will the wound heal quickly?” Dorinda eyed the still bloody scar with its hidden lifeline beneath.

  “If he’s back to normal, Vesarius’ healing sense will kick in to seal the wound in a day. If not ...” Tjon shrugged. “It’ll just sit there ... and so will he, I’m afraid.”

  “Could there be any more of those implants? Those bugs?” Dorinda scrutinized the tiny, inert nodule lying on the surgical tray. “It’s so small.”

  “The whole-body scan confirmed it.” Tjon was shaking her head. “No more bugs.”

  With a tired sigh, Dorinda plopped down in the chair Nurse Igoni offered her. “I’m grateful, Arabbi. He’ll sleep now?”

  Nodding, the physician explained, “The anesthetic should wear off in a half hour or so. As long as he doesn’t stiffen up again, I’d suspect he’d just be sleeping after that. Vesarius’s been in need of sleep lately.” With one more glance at her bare-backed patient, Tjon tugged off her surgical gloves and left the two alone.

  “Sleep.” Dorinda leaned back and closed her eyes. “I could use some myself.” Then Dorinda regarded her friend’s slightly sagging features. The scene was vaguely familiar. Not too long ago, the tale had been reversed, and she had been the one with a hole in her spine. Recalling Vesarius’ guilt-stricken face leaning over her, Dorinda smiled. They had made it work. They would make it still ... together.

  Dorinda tilted to rest her weary head on the bed’s edge by the Vesar’s cheek. She gave one last squeeze to his hand and dozed off to a peaceful oblivion.

  Chapter 16: Recovery

  “Dorinda?” Someone beckoned her from sleep. She knew that voice. A hand settled gently upon her auburn crown. “Dori.”

  Smiling, Dorinda widened her eyes and gazed up to the bronze-skinned, jasper-eyed man standing beside her. “Michael!” Quickly she popped up to hug him. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was so worried, even after Jonas told me everything was all right.”

  Hugging her back, Michael Bear Coty admitted into her ear, “There were moments when I expected to be torn to pieces, and moments when I wanted to tear Vesarius to pieces.” He pushed her away to smile. “But everything’s fixed now. The Orthop chancellor’s agreed to postpone negotiations until after their civil strife has been resolved.”

  “He’s taking the rebels back with him?” Dorinda dropped her arms from their embrace.

  Coty nodded. “They’ll contact us again when they’re ready to talk peace. Seriously.”

  “We won’t be going back, will we?” Dorinda felt a tingle of her former dread returning. “I’ll not miss that place. The Alliance can send another ship.”

  “Agreed,” Coty countered with a chin dip. Then he tilted it. “Although, they may still request their storyteller.”

  Glancing down at her slumped charge, Dorinda sighed. “Well, if they ask, I guess I’ll be going back too. Wherever he goes …”

  “How is he? Tjon was too busy to give me the rundown.” Scrutinizing the prone Vesar draped upon the bed, Coty’s eyes were wrinkled in concern. He must have gleaned some of the story from Arabbi Tjon’s attitude.

  “Let’s find out,” Dorinda answered and reseated herself beside the unconscious Vesar. Taking his hand again, Dorinda spoke calmly, though her stomach was tightening into knots. If this didn’t work ... “Sarius? Open your eyes. Michael’s here. He wants to court-martial you for stranding him on Orthop.”

  The Vesar remained frozen in place, not a twitch or eye jerk to indicate a drift toward wakefulness. Standing again, Dorinda leaned over to check her friend’s incision.

  “What?” Coty asked peering also.

  “Arabbi said if Vesarius was back to normal, his wound would be healing already. Look. See? It’s already sealed itself along the outer layer, and the bruising’s lighter.”

  Coty harrumphed. “A good sign.”

  “Come on, Sarius,” Dorinda said again. She squeezed his hand and leaned to stroke his forehead with her bandaged wrist. She spoke quietly into his ear. “Time to wake up and make plans. We have their blessings, Brune.” Dorinda felt her own heart vault within her sternum. “Lonnie, Jonas, Arabbi, even Moxland’s said so. Jonas wants a little Vesar pupil to teach technical engineering. Moxland’s sure our baby’ll have a high PSY rating. A real star student.” There was still no reaction from the mahogany figure. “Brune,” Dorinda commanded. “Wake up. You’re going to get up off that bed and propose to me. Now, with Michael as my witness.”

  Vesarius flinched. Swallowing, he stirred to lift his head. “He told you?” the Vesar mumbled into his pillow.

  Dorinda was so ecstatic by his movement, she completely missed the question. Bending to kiss his cheek, she caught his sleepy gaze. “Good morning, Iron Man!” Vesarius took back his hand and braced his knee to roll over. “Slowly, Sarius,” Dorinda cautioned as he groaned into a sit.

  Stretching his spine, the warrior slid bare legs over the bunk’s edge. He tugged the medical sheet closer about his naked hips. “I do not recall losing my clothes.”

  “Long story.” Dorinda grinned at his sudden blush. She swatted the man’s arm away, though, when he raised digits to massage his neck. “Ah, ah. Dr. Tjon said no touching that. She extracted what she thinks was a mind control device from your spinal cord.”

  “That is why my head ached,” Vesarius reasoned, blinking and focusing on his surroundings. “How did I get here? What happened?” Then his dark eyes hardened to obsidian. “Dori, did I hurt you? Bear, you are unharmed? Forgive me. I should be executed for my actions. I ... mutinied.”

  “Not your fault, my friend,” Coty argued with a friendly pat to the warrior’s enshrouded knee. “You’d been programmed. Very effectively, I might add. It almost worked.”

  “Almost?” Vesarius straightened his sagging spine. He moved to rub his aching neck, but stalled his own rising hand before Dorinda could protest again.

  In answer, Coty puffed up his chest and reached to hug Dorinda with one encasing arm. “Dori saved the day.”

  Shrugging out of his grasp, Dorinda cleared her throat of embarrassment. “No I didn’t. Tundra and the other Kin did all the paw work.”

  Vesarius glanced between both humans. “I will have to hear this story in its entirety,” he avowed. “Perhaps once my brain can think straight enough to appreciate it.” Dorinda watched him glance down at his bare waist, his hands ready to slide him out from under the sheets. His cheeks darkened again. “And perhaps after my sandsuit has been returned.”

  “I can arrange that,” Dorinda agreed, chuckling to see his social discomfort. “As soon as I can clear you from the med center.”

  “Then hurry, Green Eyes,” Vesarius urged still a shade darker than normal. “I am rather chilled under here.”

  With a mischievous smile, Dorinda leaned in to kiss him. Quietly she professed, “But I rather like you this way.” Giggling, she left to retrieve his clothes and his medical clearance.

  * * *

  Vesarius watched Dorinda bounce from the isolation stall. He then regarded his captain with cooling sobriety. “Bear, I should be court-martialed,” he insisted. “Mutiny is a serious charge. Alliance Command will want a full report.”

  “Oh, they’ll get one,” Coty assured. “And they’ll no doubt present the high chancellor of Orthop with a citation of honor and award Dorinda full citizenship.”

  “Citizenship?” A sardonic smile traced the Vesar’s wide lips. “I must definitely hear this story.”

  Coty patted his friend on the knee again. “I’ll save that pleasure for Dorinda. Right now I’m going to check in on Yolonda and Sam, then get my ass back up to the bridge where I belong.” With a nod Coty too left his side.

  Alone Vesarius tried to replay recent events in his head. How could this have happened? When had the Orthop programming kicked in? All the warrior’s actions had seemed rational, logical, up to a point. But those taken during the past day had been incomprehensible! Why hadn’t he resisted? He was a Vesar warrior, not a marionette!
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br />   Resting his muddled head in his hands, Vesarius tried to rationalize why he was not now dead, or at least in the brig. He was to blame. He had caused their deaths. A vivid memory of the Orthop planet attack splattered his consciousness with nutmeg-stained, Vesar blood. The ambassador – his closest, living relative – decapitated before his eyes. The others slaughtered in his presence. Vesarius’ missiles launched over the Orthops’ heads. A distraction! He had caused the distraction which had gotten them killed.

  Moaning in agonized realization, Vesarius flinched at a cool hand against his crest. “Vesarius,” Dorinda said handing him his laundered garments. “I love you.” Frozen in indecision he could not react kindly to her impassioned words or her Vesar kiss.

  Scowling, Vesarius swiped her palm away. The clothing bundle scattered across the floor. “I killed them, Dorinda. Tolianksalya, the other Vesar. I created the distraction that gave the Orthops the surprise advantage.” He tried to blink blind the vision, but it lurked there still behind his lids. “I shoved you down, out of my way, and aimed the crossbow up over everyone’s heads! I should have killed Gluctg right then, but ... I did not. I ... I had not the will to fight the programming.”

  “Vesarius, you did what you could.” Despite his rebuff, Dorinda’s uninjured hand was again upon him, resting against his bare forearm. “You protected me. You kept Michael alive. No person on the Pompeii was killed. Only ... those four, the ambassador and his men. You even forewarned Voicer about the queen’s safety.” She squeezed his tense flesh. “We’re all safe now. The Orthop government will prevent this from happening again. Peace is still possible.”

  “You do not feel the loss? Their sacrifice?”

  “Of course I do,” Dorinda asserted caressing his cheek. “Tolianksalya. He … Well … He was growing on me. I think I could’ve grown to care about him. As an uncle, as a friend.” Dorinda swallowed and creased her emerald eyes in conviction. “But his death wasn’t in vain, Sarius. The Orthops learned a valuable lesson. With the rebel faction contained, peace will be the only alternative now.” Her eyes faded to a cloudy jade as her thoughts seemed to drift away.

  “Close the door,” Vesarius instructed.

  “Huh? Why?” Dorinda turned away to press the release button beside the cubicle’s open doorway. A translucent screen glided across the opening providing light but also privacy. Vesarius slid from the sheets and straightened his aching body to stand. When Dorinda pivoted back, her eyes traveled along his bare, muscular body, and Vesarius felt a sudden warmth in his cheeks. “Can ... can I ... Do you want privacy?”

  Vesarius snatched up his leather clothes from the floor then leaned to slide on his briefs. “No,” he answered straightening and regarding her suspended expression. She wanted what his own heart was drumming for in his shoulder. “Come here.”

  “But ... we’re in a hospital.” Dorinda stumbled over her words and her feet. Her ivory complexion flashed hot pink.

  “I know,” Vesarius countered quietly. “I just ... want to hold you.” He opened his arms to her. “It has been too long.”

  “Yes.” Dorinda’s voice as light as vapor, she stepped into those arms. “Did you hear me when -”

  “Yes, I did, Green Eyes,” Vesarius mumbled into her hair. “I am ... gratified.”

  She pulled away from him only far enough to meet his black-velvet gaze. “Then let’s get married, Sarius.” Dorinda’s own eyes were emerald flames, burning with eager desire.

  “It is not that simple,” Vesarius countered. He released her to reach for his leather trousers. Drawing them on over his smooth legs, he explained the delicacies. “Bonding cannot be attained without the sanctioning of the Vesar Council, and then only after we have successfully completed the Vwafar´ee ordeal. That first must be granted us.” He tugged the pants up to his waist.

  “Perhaps it has been, Brune,” Dorinda countered her eyes sparkling with some anticipation.

  “He told you?” Vesarius asked again. Dorinda flinched darkening a shade as if caught in the act of stealing a cookie. Vesarius tilted a smirk and tightened the lacings at his hip. “Did my uncle tell you what my name means in Vesahri?”

  Shaking her head slowly, Dorinda stuttered, “Only that it’s your birth name, your first name before the manhood initiation. Is it a crime for me to -?”

  “In Vesahri,” he explained pulling her toward him again and leaning his wide mouth down to hers. “Brune means ‘dark one’.” With a simmering passion that had until then been bottled inside, Vesarius pressed his lips against hers. He enveloped her in his mahogany arms. Dorinda melted into that embrace and moaned softly in response. The kiss might have lasted an eternity had not Vesarius released her. Dorinda wobbled on unsteady legs. “Am I free to leave the medical facilities?” he asked still holding Dorinda steady by the arms.

  “Yes,” she gasped eyes fluttering back open.

  “Then, let us retreat to your cabin.” His obsidian gaze twinkled, his mouth twitched. “I have a sudden urge to watch you sleep.”

  “Sleep?” Dorinda blinked at the word, then must have noticed the yearning in his stare. She smiled the sun’s brightness. “Don’t forget your shirt and shoes.” Dorinda disappeared when he twisted to retrieve them. With a cavernous chuckle, Vesarius tossed the tunic over his head. He tugged on his boots and laced them. Then the warrior was striding from the infirmary toward his lover’s earnest desire.

  * * *

  Within the hour, they were both indeed asleep, exhausted and content, two bodies entwined beneath the sheets. It was not until late that afternoon that Dorinda stirred from her slumber and, sensing his warm closeness, rolled over to kiss her mate. “Dark one,” she crooned in his ear.

  Vesarius’ wide mouth crept upward in a contented smile. His eyes slipped open, starlit ebony in the subdued lighting. “Good ... whatever-time-it-is.”

  Giggling, Dorinda wrapped her arm about his neck. “I don’t really care.”

  “I do.” Vesarius sucked a deep breath and moved to wipe his face of sleep. “At least what day it is.”

  “Why should you worry? We’re heading back into Alliance space, on our way to Tlonnis for our next assignment.” Dorinda blinked at his thoughtful gaze. “All work and no play makes for a boring warrior,” she accused and slid her hand to caress his sensitive chest ridges.

  Dipping his lids to that tickly touch, Vesarius murmured, “We have a delivery arriving.”

  Promptly, Dorinda removed her digits. “Michael’s birthday present!” Shoving the sheets aside, she sat up. “We better find out when that is. We’ll need to arrange for the rendezvous, intercept the shipment, without Michael finding out about it.”

  Vesarius moved to sit up as well. His hot breath was on her cool neck. “Later.”

  “What?” She leaned away from him. “No, Sarius. You’re right. We better find out how long we’ve been here. Where’s my watch?” When Dorinda tried to rise, however, a gentle but solid grasp of long fingers halted her retreat.

  “All work and no play?”

  Dorinda waggled a digit at him. “That’s not fair, Sarius.” He drew her down onto the bed. From above her, he leaned and kissed her throat. Chuckling in playful amusement, Dorinda tried to change the subject. “So, can I wear it now?”

  “Wear what?” he murmured at her ear.

  “Your pledge gift, of course. You do remember that, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he answered from her collar bone.

  Eyes skyward, Dorinda tried to catch his passing gaze as he moved to nibble her other ear. “Yes, you remember? Or yes, I can wear it?”

  “Yes,” he mumbled into her earlobe.

  “Sarius!” Dorinda rolled out from under him. “Get serious!” She slid from the bed and faced his kneeling, naked form only half concealed amongst the bedding.

  “Why?” he asked in earnest. “A Vesar is too serious too often. You have said so yourself. It is the way to die old and feebly.”

  Hands on her hips, Dorinda shook her head
. “Can I just take a look at my watch, please?”

  “Yes,” he answered simply and leaned back on his calves to regard her with calm, coal eyes.

  “Thank you.” Dorinda scrounged around her discarded pile of clothes. She found her chrono and considered the information there. “We’ve got exactly fourteen hours, three minutes before our return to Alliance space and any possible rendezvous.” Dorinda promptly dropped the chrono to the floor. With a brilliant grin over her shoulder at him she asked, “Is that enough time for you?”

  “No,” Vesarius quipped and settled back onto the pillows.

  With mischief-rimmed eyes, Dorinda stepped to the platform and slid down beside him. “Well, if we had our time machine back, we’d have forever to -” His mouth was upon hers again, and Dorinda gave in to his hot warrior passions.

  * * *

  No one said anything to him when Vesarius returned to his duty post the next morning. He simply slid into his navigation station chair and checked the Pompeii’s heading.

  “Arrival time in Alliance space?” Coty asked from the command seat.

  “Twenty-three point five minutes, Captain,” Vesarius answered after a quick mental calculation. When it seemed Coty was not going to ask him anything further, Vesarius ventured, “Sir, I have a supply ship scheduled to rendezvous with us. Do you require an invoice confirmation and docking schedule?”

  “No, Commander. Lt. Darby’s already taken care of that.” Coty considered his first officer with a tilted brow. “That’s old news, man. Where have you been for the last twenty hours?” Vesarius swallowed. Did his captain really want an answer? When the Vesar splayed his lips to reply, Coty only chuckled and waved him off. “Non-sequitur.”

  Feeling his forehead flush, Vesarius found protection from the curious stares around him by turning back to his post. There he reviewed Moxland’s docking schedule. The supply ship would arrive in less than two hours and dock along the Pompeii’s port cargo hatch. The invoice included foodstuffs, medical supplies, five cases of genuine Earth champagne, various pieces of maintenance equipment, a case of books (Dorinda’s), and several packages labeled ‘special order’.