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  Warrior Spirit

  Book Two of the

  Vesar Warrior Legacy

  by Laura J. Kaighn

  Lady Hawke Storytelling

  & Writer’s Services

  Warrior Spirit:

  Book Two of the Vesar Warrior Legacy

  by Laura J. Kaighn

  Lady Hawke Storytelling

  All rights reserved.

  Copyrights 1993, 2008, 2016

  Cover concept: Laura J. Kaighn

  Cover art: Irena Fonorow © 2016

  ISBN: 978-1533693112

  ISBN: 1533693110

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016912980

  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

  North Charleston, SC

  Produced and printed in the United States of America

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, stored or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, either written or electronic, without express written permission by the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Laura J. Kaighn reserves full copyrights to this book, its contents and any transmitted

  form, including future video, movie and other

  electronic and digital formats.

  Disclaimer

  This work is a piece of fiction. Though some locations referenced here are based on actual settings, any association to actual situations, people or places is purely coincidental. Since 1991, the Adirondack Park has been an environment the author dearly loves, enjoys, and respects. Some violence and mature content are included.

  Foreword

  When I was first inspired to create the tales of Dorinda Tanner and Vesarius in 1991’s Warrior Heart, I had no idea these characters would take on a life of their own. What started out as a single volume bloomed into a trilogy, split to a quadruplet, then continued on from there. May these continuing adventures inspire readers to love, accept,

  share and rejoice in the gifts we are each given.

  Without variety, life would be so dull…

  Peace,

  LJK

  Dedication

  As a lifelong educator, I’d like to dedicate this volume to those who share their wisdom, knowledge and enthusiasm for all things science, celestial, and nature-oriented. The glories of the outdoors, to me, are cathartic and sacred. I daily discover wondrous gifts in the simplest forms,

  objects and spirits of our singular Earth. To them,

  I am eternally humbled and grateful. Wado.

  Chapter 1: Reflections’ Past

  The spacecraft Pompeii’s arboretum was dim on purpose – set for a cloudy night with occasional stars to light the forested path. Dorinda Jade crept forward in that darkness with only her human senses guiding her. She kept her breathing calm and searched the grassy ground for signs of his passage. Like an adult game of hide-and-seek, Dorinda had so far tracked the Vesar warrior to a small gathering of oak and maple following the evidence of bent leaves and crushed undergrowth.

  Then her eyes discerned a flattened area of grass under a large tree. Kneeling, Dorinda allowed her fingers to trace the indentation – two boot prints, close together. Her hands delicately probed the surrounding sod feeling for another imprint, but Vesarius’ trail had ended abruptly.

  Standing, Dorinda closed her golden-green eyes to concentrate on her two remaining, more reliable senses in the artificial night. There was no breeze here; instead she listened intently for breathing not her own. She listened for movement, the creak of his leather sandsuit. The alien was here, hiding nearby.

  Then her nose sensed his presence, the warrior’s slightly musky odor, the scent of his bivanii cactus shampoo. Dorinda smiled. “I know you’re close, Vesarius,” she whispered teasingly, knowing his sensitive ears would hear her. Then her own ears strained for the sound of his smile, an intake of amused air. Opening her eyes, Dorinda glanced upward and at once caught the glint of the Vesar’s ivory grin among the branches overhead. “Got ya!” she quipped triumphantly.

  “Very good, Green Eyes,” came his rumbling reply from the sprawling oak’s lofty embrace. “But you did not consider the tree, feel for the scraped bark of my passage. What told you?”

  Dorinda crossed her arms and leaned back to consider the alien man perched on a thick branch six meters above her auburn crown of braided hair. “I know what you smell like.” With a jubilant shrug, she concluded, “And I heard you smile.”

  From the darkened treetop, Vesarius nodded his satisfaction. “I am impressed.” He started his descent, the oak groaning in protest of his wide-shouldered bulk. Two leather boots dangled momentarily above her; then the Vesar dropped to the grass with a soft thud.

  “You gave me a merry chase, Sarius,” Dorinda had to admit, using his warrior title’s shortened nickname. “There were large gaps in the trail. I had to check a perimeter over a meter wide to find any clues. What’d you do this time? Swing from the rafters like some Vesar Tarzan?”

  Vesarius grinned toothily again and tugged at his leather tunic. The totem stone beads at his family medallion clicked together from their dangling cords. “You might say that. You will see when I turn the lights up.” The Vesar tossed his long braid back over his shoulder and exhaled. “Your skills improve daily, Dorinda. Noah did not help you this time?”

  “No, he did not,” Dorinda insisted. She thought of her teammate, an otter Kin Companion. “I told him he’d be grounded from the pool for an entire week if he imaged even one clue.” With a mental command, Dorinda granted her anxious Kinpanion entry into the arboretum, and the genetically-enhanced animal flounced in from the corridor chirping his congratulations.

  Nodding his approval, the taller, mahogany-skinned Vesar squared his crested shoulders. “At this rate you will soon be ready to officially join the crew. That is, after we are done at Orthop.” That last statement was deep with apprehension.

  Noticing it, Dorinda frowned. “Which makes you uneasy.” She felt she needed to bolster her friend’s character as well. “Sarius, your diplomatic skills are improving too. You almost have the basics of logic down pat. It’s only been three weeks. And I’ll be with you when that Vesar temper of yours flares.” She squeezed his taut forearm. “Peace with the Orthops will be possible this time.”

  Time: the great irony. Time had been the vehicle which had started Dorinda’s great rollercoaster ride into this future a century distant from her own. Only two months earlier, Dorinda Tanner – now Jade – had been caught in a time machine conflict that had propelled her from 1999 into the year 2105 and the life she now led aboard the Galactic Alliance Vessel Pompeii. Here the once-middle-school teacher had chosen a new last name. Here Dorinda had found a new future, a new family.

  Michael Bear Coty – the Pompeii’s half-Lakota captain – was her dear friend, closer than even a big brother to her. Dr. Yolonda Sheradon had become her confidant and mentor, much like Dorinda’s long-deceased mother. Other crewmembers – humans and Tloni both – seemed like cousins or siblings and friends. They had kindly provided the bridge between her old world and this future of space travel and alien alliances.

  The otter Noah was Dorinda’s precious companion and teammate, bonded to her and able to communicate through picture words. The two had saved each other’s sanity since both had been viciously separated from their loved ones. Noah’s previous Bondmate Jonathan Torch had been killed by Orthop fire at nearly the same time Dorinda had arrived.

  Then there was Commander Tankawankanyi. How could Dorinda even place a label on Vesarius? The Vesar warrior was over two meters tall, strong-willed, arrogant, rugged, and many times unpredictable. He also possessed a sly sense of humor and, at times, could be most tender for his muscular bulk.

  Vesarius reminded Dorinda of her now
-dead husband, Michael Tanner. Tanner had been dedicated and passionate about his Adirondack woods, and it had been that compassion which had led to his murder. Dorinda’s former home, in upstate New York, still sat tranquil and safe in the beauty of autumn’s vibrancy. Closing her eyes, Dorinda remembered those recent events.

  Had it been just three weeks ago that Dorinda had revisited the Adirondacks? They had changed little in the century between her time and this. Those woods were where she had found Vesarius, injured and bleeding from plasma blasts. Dying. His strangeness had frightened her then. Now it intrigued her. The Vesar’s quick rage – a riotous condition known as the Fury – had once made her tremble with indecision. Now it only warned Dorinda that he needed calming, reasoning. For the purpose of the upcoming peace talks, she was even now teaching him to better control his Fury, just as Vesarius was training her in search and rescue techniques.

  Dorinda smiled at her friend and teacher. “So, do I pass, Mr. Warrior? Or do you have another lesson for me?”

  Vesarius grinned sardonically. “There is one more lesson I want to teach you today. It involves a meditative technique, a heightening of the senses. Like we Vesar, you must hone these skills if you are to react calmly in an emergency.”

  Dorinda nodded her agreement with enthusiasm. “Ok, show me.” She followed his towering frame to an opening in the trees. Here soft grass grew encircled by low sprawling rhododendrons and flowering bulbs from half a dozen different worlds. Here also was the bright spectacle of space – a transparent portal of plastiglass glittering with diamond starlight and the wispy fingers of the Milky Way. It was one of Dorinda’s favorite spots on the Pompeii.

  Sinking to the grass beside her mahogany-skinned companion, Dorinda studied his rugged features. As Vesarius folded his legs before him, facing the vacuum and stars beyond the portal, she smiled. His face was angular with a squared chin and hawk-like nose. Vesarius’ obsidian eyes shone beneath prominent raven brows. Closing those eyes, he seemed an ancient shaman summoning the spirits. His wide lips were flat in stoic concentration, his sculpted cheekbones rock steady. Everything about the Vesar seemed comfortably human except for the vertical line of rounded, bony ridges bisecting his dark forehead and the richness of his mahogany skin.

  To Dorinda, Vesarius was no longer strange, no longer a stranger. And the intensity of her feelings made her heart skip to ponder this alien, her friend. He was wonderfully exotic and surprising, her Vesar warrior. “Tell me what you want me to do,” she said almost breathlessly.

  The Vesar unveiled his eyes to consider her. “You must clear yourself of distractions, of emotions. Calm your heart and clear your mind of images. Only then will a vision appear to you, guidance from the Great Spirit.” Had he read her mind?

  Smirking crookedly, Dorinda folded her legs in copy. She shut her emerald gaze to the galactic firelight beyond the portal and focused on the blackness behind her lids. She began to breathe deeply. Dorinda had never meditated before though she was aware of the technique. Michael Tanner had often left her for vision quests. Sometimes he had shared his epiphanies with her. A private man, a Cherokee, Tanner had allowed his young wife a glimpse into his native culture, but Dorinda had always felt apart from that world. Now Vesarius was sharing his with her. Sighing, Dorinda again focused on the blackness, on the blankness behind her lids.

  “Good,” Vesarius rumbled approvingly when Dorinda’s breathing had slowed. “Now you must listen to my voice, follow my example. Let your mind drift. During meditation, we seek calmness and resolve but also wisdom through our visions. Allow your thoughts to float in the blackness. Know that you are safe and will not fall. Your body is relaxed. Keep your eyes closed.” Vesarius’ voice was as a serene Adirondack sunset or the mist upon a lake. It was the anticipation of a spring morning before motor boats and car engines, a low rolling storm cloud. “Calm, resolve,” he instructed. “There is a light, very distant. As you float in the darkness, glide toward it. It is wisdom and enlightenment. The light holds your visions.”

  As Dorinda let her thoughts drift in the blackness behind her eyelids, she envisioned a distant point of light. Allowing Vesarius’ voice to guide her, Dorinda slowly floated toward that brightness.

  “In the light you may see images of your past, those which have meaning to you now. Memories return to teach new lessons, give another perspective.”

  Dorinda neared the light. Opening around her, the brightness gave entry into a bare landscape of crystalline glitter. It was a city of low, curving architecture, of opalescent buildings and a blue-orange sky. Dorinda frowned. She held no memory of this place.

  Large, cream-colored creatures strode about: Orthops. They escorted her to a squat silver transport resting on glowing pylons of ion energy. Suddenly, she was pushed away by a solid foreclaw. As she spun around, Dorinda saw two of the massive insectoids grab a darker figure. Violently, he tried to shake off their grasp. Dorinda was propelled back toward the shuttle, away from the struggling Vesar who called her name. “Vesarius,” she whispered and opened her eyes.

  “What is wrong?” he asked from beside her. The Vesar’s mahogany face was shadowed in concern amid the arboretum’s subdued lighting. Her own ivory complexion felt drained of heat.

  Releasing a tense breath, Dorinda tried to explain, “You’re in great danger. I saw an image of the Orthop city. We were together, but then ... Sarius, I won’t be able to help you. You’ll be alone to face this danger.”

  “You are worried for me, Green Eyes,” the Vesar deciphered tilting his head. “In meditation, one’s mind must be free of such anxiety. To seek true wisdom, we must be clear of distractions.” Vesarius smiled slightly in reassurance. “We will try this again another time. I believe Tundra insists we eat. We have been training all morning.”

  Uneasy, Dorinda shook away the dread. Instantly the images, still framing her consciousness, faded into a haze and were gone. “I have a bad feeling, Sarius. I’m afraid you’ll be alone.”

  “We will be together, Dorinda. The Pompeii will be in orbit to defend us.” Vesarius nodded his pledge. “The ancient Mytoki reassured me that their descendants will be ready for peace.” Now his eyes creased in mock suspicion. “We Vesar are the unreasonable ones. Do you have reservations about my abilities?”

  Dorinda smiled at his sarcasm. “You’re always underestimating your own wisdom.” She sighed, allowed her shoulders to wilt, and patted him on the knee. “I guess it was just my turn to be the pessimist. I’ve got a vivid imagination.” Gathering her legs up under her, she climbed to her feet. “Tundra’s right. My brain needs food.” With a nod and a controlled burst of energy, Vesarius hopped to his boots to follow her. “After breakfast,” she suggested as they headed for the exit, “we can retreat to the library, and I’ll read you some more Whitman if you’d like.”

  “More Earth wisdom,” Vesarius mused. “I will need all I can get. Diplomacy was vacant from the Vesar school curriculum.”

  Led by Noah, the two headed for the Pompeii’s galley one level above them. The Vesar’s Alaskan malamute Kinpanion Tundra met them at the door, and the four settled down for a much needed meal. Isolated from the rest of the crew in a side dining area, Dorinda found their conversation centered on local happenings, Pompeii gossip, and her own newfound hobby.

  “You have ordered over forty books?” Vesarius’ dark eyes widened. “Printed ones?”

  “Well, forty-two that I could get a hold of. I compiled a list of more than two hundred pieces of literature that I think the library should have. Computers are useful, but a book is something to hold, cherish.” Dorinda splayed her palm in illustration. “More memorable than a storage crystal and datapad. Moxland agrees with me, though she does love her holo-novels.”

  “I agree as well,” Vesarius asserted scooping up another spoonful of cinnamon baked apples. “But Coty must agree to such an inventory. On a small vessel such as the Pompeii, mass means fuel consumption and space requirements. The arboretum and pool are already tax
ing enough. Has he set a limit to your acquisitions?”

  “Well,” Dorinda admitted poking her fork into her fruit salad, “I can choose fifty hardbound volumes. The rest have to be on storage crystals or holo-cassettes.” She skewered a strawberry slice. “So I’m picking the classics for print, concentrating on multi-volumes and complete works.” She nibbled before continuing. “My problem’s been finding copies still in print. Moxland’s linked me to the Smithsonian Library in Columbia State. They’ve tracked down twenty-three books so far. They’ll be shipped out tomorrow for Outpost Toolian Four.” Dorinda shook her hanging head as she considered her dwindling breakfast. “This’ll drain my Alliance honorarium to a pittance.” She sighed and shifted gears. “The Smithsonian forwarded my requests to three other major libraries on Earth. The search continues.” She cocked her head as her companion scooped up another substantial mouthful. “Have you ever read any Edgar Allen Poe or William Shakespeare, Vesarius?”

  The Vesar munched his hot Tloni crispies then swallowed. “Were they survivalists, like Thoreau?”

  Smiling Dorinda countered, “No, not at all. Poe had a unique understanding of human fear. Shakespeare was a playwright. He wrote Hamlet and King Lear.” Her shoulders jerked. “I guess you could say he delved into the human soul. The more literature you read, the better you can understand human nature.”

  “How then would one best know Vesar nature?” Vesarius’ eyes were focused on his empty plate.

  Dorinda froze; she had made a terrible mistake. “I ... I’m sorry. Sarius, I never thought ... didn’t even consider.” Frowning deeply, Dorinda tilted her gaze to her own food. “I’ve acted so selfishly.” She lifted stricken eyes to his distant stare. “I never thought to ask you. ...To consider Vesar literature at all.” Rising from her chair, Dorinda strode around the table to his seated frame. “Please forgive me. I ... don’t know what to say. I was thinking of the human crew, of myself. There are Tloni onboard too. Brend. Tlant. Oh, dear, I’ve forgotten them also.”