by Laura Kaighn
“And you do not approve,” Tlenck acknowledged moving closer to stand beside the half Lakota captain.
“I agree with some of your choices, Tlenck, not with all of them. No.” Coty leaned back in his chair, raised his left leg to cross his right, and tilted away from the Tloni diplomat. He rested his chin on his fist and considered the datapad in his free hand. “Waters and his team are fine. Security personnel are at my discretion, not yours.” He set the recording device down onto his lap before addressing Tlenck directly. “And my tracker’s name is Cmdr. Tankawankanyi, not Lt. Tlant.”
Tlenck shifted his weight back on his rear footpads. “I am quite aware of your officers’ monikers, Capt. Coty. My recommendation of Tlant is for evaluative purposes only. His instructors encouraged immediate exposure to a genuine search and rescue mission.”
Coty tilted toward the Tloni. “And just who is Tlant supposed to rescue?” The captain locked dark eyes with the ambassador’s blinking violet gaze. He continued without letting the Tloni answer. “We need to find the Orthop campsite. It may be under tons of rubble now. We didn’t exactly leave Mytok the way we found it.” Coty motioned toward his first officer with a chin jerk. “Vesarius has already studied Dr. Toh’s notes. Tracking down Orthops is his job.”
Next the captain lowered his head to sigh before lifting his gaze again. “Ambassador, I have no problem with Lt. Tlant’s assignment. I approve of your recommendation of him, but only as an assistant to my tracker. Vesarius and Tundra must be first-landers. We have only one transport left after our narrow escape, and they have the expertise.” Coty straightened in his chair and glanced toward the forward viewscreen, an indication that he was ready to get back to the important job of running his ship. “It’s vital that we find that campsite, to determine whether the Orthops have gained the knowledge to build another Arch.” He glared at the Tloni with a singular brow of irony. “I believe I’ve just echoed your own words.”
Tlenck rubbed his muzzle resignedly. “You are correct, of course, Captain. I was attempting to keep the landing complement to a minimum, for safety’s sake. You did insist on that yourself, due to the possible threat of Orthop survivors.”
Coty smiled flatly. “Yes, Ambassador. I remember.” The captain drew in a decisive breath. “I must also insist that Cmdr. Tankawankanyi be in charge of the mission, he’s the most senior officer involved.”
Vesarius watched from his post as the Tloni’s tail whisked sideways in obvious irritation. The Vesar’s frown deepened. Why was Tlenck hesitant to agree? Vesarius’ first impression of the ambassador was not of a bigot. Perhaps, the Vesar was jumping to conclusions.
“This mission,” Tlenck was saying with forced calm, “is not strictly a Pompeii affair, Capt. Coty. The orders, yours and mine, come from Alliance Central Command on Tlonnis. We must follow them. Therefore, in lieu of your absence, I am heading the search team.”
Coty blinked, narrowed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair. “Central Command specified that one of us should be present during the investigation?”
“You did review the orders, Captain.” Tlenck’s paws were held apart imploringly, his lispy voice more pronounced with emotion.
Coty’s fist fell atop the datapad at his lap. “I read the orders, Ambassador.” The captain’s retort was spiced with hot irony even as he met eyes with Vesarius’ searing stare.
“Since you are indispensable here,” Tlenck insisted obviously unaware of the silent exchange, “I must go with the search team. It is reasonable ... and wise.” The Tloni bowed slightly in finality. The gesture was also his species’ mark of deference.
Coty swallowed, visibly gulping against a vicious rejoinder. Instead, the captain grumbled, “Again, I object to your decision, Ambassador. But I seem to be powerless to change it.” Coty slumped slightly in his chair. Only someone who knew the captain as well as Vesarius would have recognized his sign of resignation. “The commander will answer as your second. I ask only that you keep him informed of any further decisions. He’s my representative on the planet, my ears.”
Tlenck’s response was soothing in tone. “Of course, Captain. Wisdom to you.” The Tloni set his forepaws together in a sign of respect. He then left the bridge.
As soon as Tlenck’s tail disappeared through the doors, Vesarius locked his dark gaze upon his frustrated captain. “I do not like taking orders from diplomats,” he grumbled. “They do not understand the warrior codes.”
Coty shrugged. He tilted a brow in reply. “I tried to distract him, Sarius. But you can’t bluff a Tloni. They’re too reasonable. And almost as stubborn as your people.” Michael Bear adjusted his seat then pivoted to his first officer and friend. “I am ordering you to take commands from Tlenck.” Stonily Coty pouted his own reluctance before continuing. “You’ll do everything he says, short of compromising the Pompeii. I’ll personally pluck out his whiskers if he endangers any of my crew. Am I clear, Mister?”
“Yes, Sir.” Vesarius nodded, then under his breath added, “Pluck his whiskers out.” He smirked at the mental image.
With a grunt Capt. Coty shoved himself vertical. He plopped the datapad into his now abandoned seat. “Well, then, let’s get to it. The scanner’s still showing no activity in or near the city?”
“Stone dead, Captain,” the Vesar answered, standing also.
“Good enough.” Coty turned to his computer expert. “Zan, the bridge is yours. I’ll be in the transport bay seeing them off.” Coty swerved to regard the communications officer across the bridge’s rear access tube from Zaneta. “Moxland, I want Alvarez, Peters, and Chauney in the transport bay with full armament and body armor in ten minutes. Make sure they’re prepared for hot weather, sand storms and possible Orthops survivors.”
Moxie nodded then spun to address her intraship communications linkup. Vesarius watched Coty take one more glance around the room before relinquishing command. “Down into the dragon’s belly, Sarius.” The captain strode to the lift doors. Following, the Vesar matched his captain’s purposeful gait. Together they were whisked to the Pompeii’s transport bay five levels down. Once the pair had cleared the massive double doors – which served as the cargo entrance and a pressurized barrier when the space doors were open to the freezing vacuum beyond – Coty and Vesarius were enveloped by noise.
The ship’s one remaining transport squatted in a bay designed to hold four more like it. The Pom-3 was plasma scarred and battered from its previous narrow escape, but its pilot was eagerly touting the silver vessel’s virtues. “She may not shine like new, but she flies like a falcon,” Trevor Dickson assured a reluctant looking Tlant. Dickson patted the hull where he stood just inside the Pom-3’s open hatch. The pilot noticed his captain’s approach and hopped down from the craft which hunkered beast-like upon the deck. “Captain. She’s all loaded and ready to go. I can take four passengers on the first trip, after that the full occupancy’s eight.”
Coty acknowledged his officer then turned to the Vesar beside him. “You ride copilot down with the security detail. Check out the area thoroughly before sending Dickson back for Tlenck and the rest of the team. If you need to get back to the ship in a hurry, scrap the equipment and squeeze everyone in for one ride.”
Vesarius nodded. “Aye, Coty.” The commander trod to the transport’s open hatch. Peeking inside he scrutinized the cases of archeological and sensor equipment. Vesarius was pleased to see his leather backpack among the cargo. It contained his personal scanner and tracking equipment, all the Vesar owned. Turning, he glanced back at the transport’s pilot with approval. “Dickson, you do know how to pack for a vacation.”
“Thank you, Commander,” Trevor Dickson replied without emotion. He waved at the waiting transport in illustration. “I hope Tundra won’t feel too cramped amid the clutter in there. With Orthops about, we don’t need any more anxiety.”
Vesarius considered the younger, sandy-haired human beside him. “Tundra is not claustrophobic, and he has more sense than some bipeds.
Neither he nor I intend to interfere with your job, Lieutenant.”
“Of course not, Sir. We’re all professionals here.” Dickson mumbled an “excuse me,” and stepped up to shoulder past the Vesar. He promptly disappeared deeper into the transport.
Vesarius simply shook his head and wondered whether at times Vesar discrimination was all in his mind. Abandoning the vessel’s side, Vesarius strode to his captain. Coty was inspecting the armament his three security officers had brought along. Judith Alvarez hefted a multi-phase rifle in her muscular arms evaluating its weight and balance. The dark-skinned woman, padded in regulation battle armor, was as tall as her captain with broad shoulders and close cropped hair.
“Whatever you do, Jude, make sure that rifle gets back to me. Even if it means suicide,” Coty was saying. He patted the weapon affectionately and half-smiled. “They don’t make these anymore, except perhaps on Orthop.”
“I’ll treat it the same way I do the commander here.” Judith Alvarez jerked her chin sideways at the man by Coty’s shoulder.
“With a grudging respect?” Vesarius asked smirking.
“No,” Alvarez countered. “With careful disregard.” With a wide grin she slapped the power magazine into its slot and tossed the meter long weapon up onto her shoulder. “I’m ready.”
Coty nodded, pursing his lips in irritation. “Where’s Tlenck? I expect he’ll be barging in here in a tizzy when he finds out he’s not part of first-landing.” The group all followed the captain’s eyes to the transport bay’s main entrance in time to see the ambassador and his aide tramp through. Their tails were jerking almost in unison. Coty shared a sideways leer with Vesarius then sauntered forward with an air of congeniality. “Ambassador. Are you ready to disembark?”
“Not funny, Captain,” the Tloni blurted, his foxlike ears flattening. Tlenck smoothed the diplomatic sash across his furry chest as if the gesture reasserted his authority. “I must replace the commander here as copilot on first-landing.”
Coty’s jasper gaze creased. “You know how to pilot a transport?” Vesarius harrumphed at his captain’s question.
“Pilot? But you have a pilot for the transport,” Tlenck argued. His foot claws tapped against the metal deck.
“A copilot is necessary in case of an emergency. The commander here is fully licensed.”
“Well what about-”
Coty shook his head and indicated his armored crew. “No, Ambassador. This time it’s my call. Vesarius and the security detail must scout the area first for Orthop survivors. I’ll not risk my crew ... or an Alliance diplomat.”
“But your scanners have already established that there’s no activity on Mytok.” Tlenck’s stubbornness had yet reached its peak, it seemed.
“Nothing beats good eyesight and a personal presence,” Vesarius countered. He hefted the large, triple-arrowed Vesar crossbow Alvarez handed him. Each bolt was tipped with a jagged, explosive head. The Vesar rested the metal stock along his left arm and sighted down the center projectile at a nervous Tloni ambassador.
Tlenck sniggered anxiously. “I ... I see your point, Commander.” Meekly the Tloni groaned at his own pun. “I bow to your wisdom, Captain. My aide and I will await the transport’s return.”
“Glon stays here,” Coty countered with a frown. “I need the extra seat for Lt. Darby. She and Neesha will round out the team and assist Dr. Waters in reading any Orthop text you find.” Vesarius saw his captain tense waiting for another Tloni protest.
But the ambassador merely jerked his furred shoulders. “As you wish.” Tlenck backed away to confide in his young assistant, leaving Coty and his people alone.
“Commander, take your team and keep in touch. I expect a report every half-hour during daylight, every hour after dark.”
“Understood, Captain.” Vesarius tossed the crossbow’s quiver strap over his shoulder. When he pivoted to lead the security detail to the transport, however, Coty grabbed his arm.
In answer to the Vesar’s inquiring brow, Coty jabbed a thumb toward the bay doors. “You’ve got a visitor.”
Vesarius glanced over his shoulder to see Tundra sauntering across the bay. Dorinda walked beside him wearing her jeans, a gray boat-neck tunic, and flat black boots. Her hand rested on the Alaskan malamute’s back for support while Noah waddled along at the woman’s other side. Handing Sergeant Alvarez his crossbow, Vesarius strode over to meet the fiery-haired human.
“Hi, Vesarius,” Dorinda greeted as the taller warrior bent to pat his Kin. The woman’s voice was still slightly hoarse from her near drowning ordeal. “Tundra told Noah you were going on a mission. It took me a while to understand when Noah translated.” She smiled down at the otter Kin’s twinkling eyes. Then Dorinda shook her head slightly and raised her own eyes to meet the Vesar’s. “It’s still hard to communicate with him. I really have to concentrate.”
“You are doing admirably,” Vesarius assured in his deep timbre. He grasped his hands behind him before explaining, “You must realize. We are trained for Kin communication. As soon as our vocations are realized, many of us are paired with a Kin Companion who shares that gift. Tundra and I have been together for six years. Before that I was Bondmate to a Vesar hawk named Sologin.”
Smiling, Dorinda’s gaze relaxed as if with a cherished remembrance. “I used to love to watch the hawks and eagles that circled Bald Mountain. Casey and I used to climb on autumn weekends. You must tell me about Sologin sometime.” When Vesarius agreed solemnly, Dorinda explained her visit. “Well, I came to wish you luck, and to give you something. Noah says you may be gone several days.” As Vesarius relaxed his hands to his side, Dorinda reached into her front jean pocket. She extracted a petite velvet pouch drawn with a golden cord. “The bag belonged to Jonathan. Noah says you can keep it as a thank you for saving his life.”
Vesarius negated, his thick eyebrows creased. “But I did not.” Nonetheless, he accepted the pouch from her outstretched hand.
“You did. By bringing me into the future, you gave Noah purpose again.” Dorinda’s eyes were calm and jewel-like as she continued, “What’s inside is from me.” Vesarius blinked and tentatively poked his forefinger into the pouch. Hooking the contents, the Vesar withdrew a flaming braid of fine hair tied with two thin strips of denim. “For saving my life.”
Vesarius raised ebony eyes from the eight-centimeter long lock. Then, reaching out, he fingered Dorinda’s shortened French braid. Her hair now fell just past her shoulders. “But only warriors honor life debts in this way.”
Dorinda smiled slightly. “Tundra told me I was a warrior. He said I’m battling anyone’s worst enemy and greatest challenge. Change.”
Vesarius considered this for a moment, then his lip twisted in understanding. “Tundra is wise. He honors you.”
Dorinda’s eyes dipped at the compliment. “Vesarius, please be careful down there.” She paused in her concern for an earnest request. “I’m curious. How do warriors say goodbye?”
Vesarius crooked a smile. “Warriors do not say goodbye.” Poking the hair swatch back into its pouch, he slipped the gift into his boot’s inner side pocket behind the jeweled handle of his knife. Then straightening he answered her query. “They salute in honor.” Squaring his shoulders, Vesarius slapped the base of his neck with a loose fist just where the Vesar’s heart pumped strongly.
Dorinda shared his smirk and laid her curled hand over her heart in imitation. “Dr. Sheradon doesn’t know I’m here. She told me to take a walk, but she didn’t say where.” Dori’s lips traced a frown. “She’s still angry with you, I think. She won’t tell me why.”
Vesarius shuffled one boot tip aware that they were standing in a very public place and that his captain hovered nearby. Quietly he offered his theory. “The doctor does not understand Vesar ways.”
“Can any human?” Dori asked lowering her voice and trying to catch his gaze.
Vesarius avoided her eyes. This was not a subject he wanted to debate. Mumbling his most honest answer, the
Vesar quickly regretted doing so. “Perhaps if one tried hard enough.”
“Like Coty does,” the woman asserted. Dorinda’s cooler regard finally locked with his obsidian orbs. Vesarius was suddenly trapped in those emerald pools. “Does it take much time?” Her hand was on his bicep.
In response, Vesarius cleared his throat and shoved back his shoulders. “You must leave now. The bay will be opened to space. If you wish, you may watch from the anteroom.” Vesarius’ gruff suggestion was accompanied by a jerk of his arm toward the exit door and anteroom beyond. “Excuse me.” He spun to follow Tundra in through the yawning hatch of the Pom-3.
* * *
Dorinda scowled in bewilderment. What had just happened? Had she somehow offended or angered her new friend? Were they friends? Or did Vesarius still view her as an unfortunate obstacle from the past? Was it guilt that had kept him from answering her honest question?
The transport’s door clanked, then sealed with a hiss, forcibly segregating Dori from the Vesar and her answers. Then someone gently took her arm. She blinked to focus on the figure standing beside her.
“May I walk you to the door, Ms. Tanner?” Coty’s voice was polite, soothing. His jasper-tinted eyes were rimmed with sympathy.
Dorinda replied absently, “Yes. Thank you, Captain.” As they pivoted toward the observation foyer, however, Dori glanced back at the cold metal shell of the shuttle with its crew of four humans and Vesar copilot. What did I do wrong?
Once inside the anteroom, the access doors were sealed. Depressurization of the bay commenced. Dorinda stood with Coty at the elongated observation port silently staring out through the thick plastiglass shield. Slowly the hissing and whining of reclaimed air faded, and a distinct mechanical growl announced through the deck plating the parting of the great space doors.
Halfway across the sixty meter bay, the Pom-3’s twin engine nacelles extended from their belly furrows lifting the transport off the deck. Inside Trevor Dickson activated the dual ion drive units. The trailing exhaust cone of each nacelle now glowed white with energy, adding a low thrumming percussion to the noise filtering through the Pompeii’s more massive bulk. The rumbling grew muffled when the transport powered up and the expanding black maw of the space doors enlarged enough to permit an exit.