Warrior Heart

by Laura Kaighn

  “I did not read about the medallion in Toh’s notes.”

  “No. Tlenck had that part omitted. He suspected a Vesar family crest and didn’t want you to find it first.”

  Grunting at this information, Vesarius paced past her, but stalled suddenly to spin around and grab her arm. “Wait. Dickson altered my scanner? What did he do to it?”

  Dorinda shrugged. “Tlenck just said he changed it so that it wouldn’t detect leather.”

  “Dorinda,” Vesarius exclaimed his ebony eyes growing in size. “Dickson could not have been that specific. He had to omit all organic information from the device, all animal-based indicators.” The Vesar released her to punch his palm with a fist. He took one step back from her to explain. “Orthop carapace is much like tanned leather at the molecular level. That is why my scanner did not pick them up.” Vesarius jabbed an open palm at her. “Peters was killed because Dickson deleted that capability from my instrument. Tlenck must not even realize this himself,” he added thoughtfully.

  Dorinda watched him frown then pivot and take two steps toward the cell’s exit. “I need to talk to Coty ... to Dr. Waters,” he said. “Waters must have known about the leather traces. He has been working with Tlenck since the ambassador arrived. Sam Waters would never intentionally omit information. He is an historian.” The Vesar whirled and paced across the room again. “I need to know when the ambassador plans to leave. I need access to the Pvokx’s logs. Someone was at that Orthop encampment ten years ago. He was impersonating me, wearing my crest. I need to find out who so Coty can have him questioned. And release me from the fire.”

  “We don’t have much time,” Dorinda reminded him. “And I have no privileges here. Who can get these logs for you?”

  Vesarius nodded his understanding of Dorinda’s limitations. “Take Noah. Talk to Zaneta Talyabo. She can make a hard copy of the log reports in a few minutes. Noah can bring them to me while you tell Coty about my scanner’s tampering and Tlenck’s involvement.”

  “Vesarius,” Dorinda asked her face a knot of confusion. “Wouldn’t Dickson have realized his error? Why didn’t anyone else figure this out before now?”

  Vesarius’ dark lips half-smiled, and he swung his chin. “Not everyone understands the workings of a Vesar-built scanner. It was a pet project of mine several years ago, after Sologin was killed by an invisible predator, a drahkict bird. Alliance scanners were incapable of picking up telltale air currents, so I designed my own. I have been making improvements ever since.”

  Dorinda grinned and shook her head. “You amaze even yourself, I see.”

  Vesarius lowered his eyes. “I tinker. I am a pupil of Master Jonas. He is our engineer.” Glancing up at her, the warrior continued, “Coty can confirm my scanner’s quirks by asking Jonas. He would know.”

  “I better get moving then. Have you communicated with Tundra lately? I haven’t seen him.”

  Vesarius nodded. “He is keeping an observant eye on the ambassador for me. I will know when Tlenck comes to drag me to the transport. Until then, I require those logs. Tell Zaneta I want the ones from the initial survey of Mytok, from all surface crew.”

  Dorinda acknowledged the instructions, then turned to leave but stopped short, considering. “Here,” she said pulling the tube of ointment from her pocket. “I don’t think I can use this as an excuse again. You better hold onto it.” Dori handed the medication to the Vesar then traced his crusted lips with her left forefinger. “That sand did a good number here. Better use it.”

  “Yes, doctor,” Vesarius countered quietly. Grinning Dorinda had Alvarez unlock the cell door. Then she was gone to help her friend.

  Coty intercepted her outside the lift to the bridge nearly an hour later. Taking Dori’s arm, he led her to the conference room and spoke only once they were inside. “Vesarius won’t be leaving the ship tonight,” he reassured. “Not if I can help it. I’m stalling as long as I can.”

  “Michael, that’s great. But I have information for you from Vesarius,” Dorinda insisted. “It’s about his altered scanner. He says-”

  “He knew?” Coty interrupted. “He didn’t tell me.”

  “No, he found out from me.” Dorinda blinked in embarrassment. “I, uh, overheard your meeting with the ambassador. Noah and I were in the airshaft.” She blushed, pointing to the vent near the floor. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Well I did. It’s just that I didn’t think anyone was really trying to help Vesarius.”

  Coty twisted a grin. “Why, that slimy muskrat. Noah showed you the access panel?”

  Dorinda nodded and promptly changed the subject. “Vesarius’ scanner is his own design. It’s different from other, Alliance scanners. When Dickson tampered with it, he omitted more than he planned. Michael, Vesarius couldn’t take readings on the Orthop survivors because of Dickson’s actions. Vesarius isn’t to blame for Peters’ death.”

  Coty tilted a nod as if in slight satisfaction. “That’s only one strike from his name, though. We still need to explain the existence of the dated artifacts.”

  Dorinda agreed. “Vesarius is checking the Pvokx crew logs from their survey mission to Mytok. He feels someone must have stolen one of his tunics, copied his medallion, and impersonated him.”

  Dorinda watched a hopeful twitch sneak across the captain’s lips. “Yes, that’s possible. But we’ll also need to explain the translator. We can’t communicate with the Orthops yet. This impersonator had to have had extended contact with those roaches. They may have even designed the translator for him. Orthops are excellent copycat artists.”

  Dorinda smiled broadly. “Yes. That makes sense.” She huffed in satisfaction. “I think there’s hope for Sarius yet.” Quickly Dorinda urged on. “Michael, can you talk to Sam Waters? If Tlenck’s acting alone, then Waters may be able to help. Vesarius’ recorder holds his notes from Mytok. Can Sam get it for Sarius? He feels there might be something important recorded there.”

  Coty nodded his assurance. “I’ll talk to Sam. Anything else?”

  Dorinda sighed. “No. I think we’re all doing what we can, even Vesarius.”

  Coty smiled and studied her determined expression. “You’re very good at this. Have you had much practice?”

  “At problem solving?” Dorinda bobbed her chin. “That’s what teachers do all day.”

  Coty grinned wider. “I meant the adventure part. You’re holding up wonderfully under pressure. Change isn’t easy, especially as much as you’ve had to deal with.”

  Dorinda returned the grin. “Well, you’re all keeping me so busy. I don’t have time to think of anything else, even sleep.” Then with a sigh she admitted, “Yolonda’s talked to me about regrets. She always seems to offer new wonders though. The arboretum for instance.”

  Coty squeezed her shoulder. “I’m glad to see you’re coping so well. Perhaps you’ll consider staying on with us as a member of the crew, a liaison of sorts.”

  “Me?” Dorinda blinked nervously. “What would I do, teach English literature to junior officers? I haven’t seen any teenagers here. Are there even married couples on the Pompeii?”

  “A few. But since we’re on call to new worlds, many times our couples fall in love with a virgin wilderness and decide to stay on. Help establish a colony.” Coty shrugged in his fleet jacket. “It’s the maverick in us I suppose. The Pompeii’s crew has always been an adventurous lot. We have to be, to remain sane so far away from our homeworlds.”

  Dorinda’s curiosity was piqued. “What about you, Michael? Have you ever wanted to abandon ship for some brave new world?”

  “Once,” he admitted, his jasper eyes softening sentimental. “Drianara Four seemed a paradise of canyons, rivers and prairies. Achilles and I were going to buy a little plot of plateau country and move there when colonists brought in Earth plant stocks. But after Achilles died, I just never went back. I hear Drianara’s still just as pristine. Perhaps someday ...”

  Dorinda smiled dreamily. “Sounds wonderful. Everyone should have a drea
m. Perhaps soon I’ll figure out what mine is.”

  There was silence between them for a moment. Then Michael rubbed his forehead. “I’ve got to get back to the bridge. Tlenck’s making it hard for me to do my job. If not the ship, he’s still in command of the mission.”

  “You didn’t get approval from your government? I thought you said Vesarius wasn’t leaving the ship yet.”

  Coty sighed. “No. Gen. Chan’s adamant about finding out the truth before we cease to exist. And if we don’t destroy the time machine, we won’t exist, not as a spacefaring race anyway. Many of us were born on colony worlds, Dorinda. Who knows what a different future would be like?” By his creased brow, Dorinda knew the captain was troubled by the possibilities. “The Orthops may conquer us, or just gobble up the colony worlds we now inhabit. In any case our future’s uncertain.” Coty shrugged then turned to go, but paused at the door. “Do you intend to return to Vesarius’ cell?”

  “Yes, of course. I’m eager to see what he’s uncovered.”

  “Good. Tell him I’ll do everything possible to keep him aboard. If he comes up with any information that might be helpful, let me know immediately.” Coty explained, “As his superior officer, it’s prudent I not visit him. Can’t be influenced by his pleas of innocence.” Michael Bear’s jasper eyes twinkled then. A crooked smile traced his wide lips. “So you’ll be my little bird?”

  With a pursed grin Dorinda assured, “I’ve always loved birds.”

  Nodding curtly, Coty left.

  Dorinda headed in the opposite direction, into the bowels of the Pompeii. When she reached the brig, however, Tlenck was there giving explicit directions to a new pair of security guards. Dorinda sank back into the shadows unnoticed.

  * * *

  Despite the mute setting on the speaker system outside his brig cell, Vesarius’ sensitive ears could just make out Ambassador Tlenck’s high-pitched conversation beyond the barrier. The Vesar scowled at what he gleaned. He nonetheless continued to review the Pvokx logs. Every second was crucial now.

  “Zlenko, he’s to have no visitors,” the Tloni dignitary was saying. “The commander’s still an influence to the crew. Someone’s allowed him access to log reports without my knowledge or permission. We must appropriate them and thwart any further breach in security. I already have Sgt. Alvarez on report. You understand my orders?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Roshana Zlenko snapped. “No visitors and no computer access. Bread and water.”

  “What was that last, Corporal?”

  “Sorry, Sir. An old Earth expression. Your orders will be carried out. You wish the material removed now?”

  “No, Zlenko. Yesterday.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Vesarius next heard the security corporal palm the release button and enter his cell. “Commander, I have orders to confiscate the hardcopy records in your possession.”

  Vesarius, seated in the chair facing the bed, had his back to the door. He did not turn to regard the woman. Instead he coolly continued his analysis of the computer printouts laid out on the sleeping platform. “Hello, Cpl. Zlenko. We meet again.”

  Gasping, the woman seemed unnerved at his instant recognition of her. The two had, after all, only briefly conversed upon her recent arrival onboard the Pompeii.

  “Tlenck’s orders?” Vesarius clarified.

  “Ye... yes, Sir,” she stammered behind him. “The ambassador is senior officer.”

  “Of the mission, yes. Does Capt. Coty know of these orders?”

  “Well, he must. Even if he doesn’t, Ambassador Tlenck is senior officer. You will hand the materials over to the private here and without resistance.” Vesarius had heard the shuffling of Zlenko’s burly partner. No doubt there were two plasma pistols, set to stun, now aimed at his defiant back.

  “And if I do resist?” the Vesar challenged, stiff spine his only physical reply.

  “Then I’ll be forced to hurt you, Commander. I am a crack shot.” Zlenko’s last statement was no doubt to boost her own confidence more than to intimidate the warrior.

  Vesarius sighed, shoulders sagging. Rising from his seat he swung one leg over the low backrest to face the two security guards with an embered stare. “Crack shot, eh? I wonder how cracked you really are, Corporal. I wonder,” he continued taking a step forward, “would you fire anyway, thinking me a barbarian?”

  “Don’t come any closer, Commander. Your posture could be interpreted as hostile. I will shoot.” Roshana Zlenko’s warning was accompanied by her left foot fidgeting backward, not quite a step.

  Suddenly there was another person in the cell with them. Dorinda moved to block Zlenko’s pistol arm. “Vesarius, don’t,” she ordered splaying palms. “You’re not helping. I’ll take the log reports. I’ll give them to Coty.” Stepping between the two guards, Dorinda stalked toward the Vesar. “Nobody fire.”

  “Green Eyes,” Vesarius acknowledged with a swallow, his voice suddenly deep with resignation. “You show great wisdom. I see now why Coty made you my guardian.” When the Vesar moved to gather the papers, Zlenko unsnapped the safety on her pistol taking aim at his midsection. Vesarius froze and raised his arms at her. “Just cleaning house, Corporal. I do so hate disorganization when guests drop by.”

  Huffing at his sarcasm, Dorinda edged past the Vesar’s bulk to gather the cumbersome stack of printouts into her arms. Before marching out, however, Dori dispatched an annoyed glower his way. Zlenko and her partner withdrew as well. The cell door shut behind them. A locking click left Vesarius isolated yet again.

  With nothing to do but stare at blank walls, the Vesar measured his swiftly diminishing options. It seemed he was unable even to defend his honor, his truth. In that realization, a darkness engulfed the warrior. Heat rose to his cheeks, igniting an inferno in his eyes. A cavernous growl erupted in his throat to burst forth in a volcanic howl. “I am innocent!”

  Fists clenched, Vesarius stomped about his tiny cell. His Fury swelled until his arms stiffened at the sight of his own contorted face in the mirror above the wash basin. The Vesar’s fist jackhammered that vile reflection. The mirror tinkled to the floor in a myriad of icy shards. Grunting, the Vesar withdrew his knuckles from the splintered opening. He continued his picket, marking his path in droplets of red-orange blood.

  * * *

  Dorinda’s Kin rejoined her outside the electromagnetic lift on Deck Five. “Noah,” Dori announced around her armload of folded printouts. “Vesarius is in real trouble. He’s the only one who could make a positive identification of his imposter, and now Tlenck’s prevented even that.” The elevator doors opened, and the otter followed his Bondmate inside. “I think the ambassador just wants a scapegoat. Vesarius’ll be executed to support Tlenck’s own political agenda.”

  As the magnelift escorted the pair to the bridge, Dorinda sighed angrily. “Things haven’t changed at all. Power still seeks to control and destroy.” When the lift opened, Dorinda stepped out onto the Pompeii’s bridge, her arms weighted down by the splayed evidence. “Sarius is a songbird about to sing his last concert.”

  “How very poetic, my dear,” a nasally voice crooned.

  Dorinda slammed on the brakes. Tlenck stood just centimeters from her armload. Only his tufted ears and dark violet eyes peered above the stack. “Excuse me, Ambassador.”

  “These are for me. Thank you for retrieving them.” The Tloni reached for the papers.

  “No!” Dorinda swung the pile away from Tlenck’s outstretched paws. “These are for Capt. Coty. They’re to help exonerate Vesarius.”

  “Young lady,” the diplomat clarified, “Coty has a ship to run. He has no time to sort through a data mountain of that size.”

  Dorinda quickly searched the unfamiliar room for Michael Coty’s dark features. Zaneta Talyabo was sitting in the bridge’s central seat. “Where’s Michael?”

  “The captain’s in a private meeting, Ms. Tanner. I’m not at leisure to disclose the location.” Zaneta’s dark brows arched a warning.

  “But, Lieut
enant, the ambassador isn’t letting Vesarius use the logs you ...” Dorinda stopped herself, suddenly aware of the reason for Zan’s expression. Tlenck had noticed as well.

  “Ah! The leak is up. I should have known.” Snapping his paw, the Tloni bounced in self-satisfaction. “Lt. Talyabo has conspired to aid the prisoner. Another name to add to my report.”

  Zaneta rose from her chair, her cocoa-brushed cheeks flushing darker in quick anger. “Now wait a minute. I had permission from the captain.” It was a half-truth, Dori knew. Zaneta had gotten Coty’s blessing once Dorinda had told him about the Pvokx logs sent to Vesarius.

  “I am the only one who gives permission to discuss this case,” Tlenck told everyone present. “Your job is to destroy the Orthop machine. A small ship such as the Pompeii is the Alliance’s best chance.” The Tloni turned back to Dorinda. “Now, young lady, may I have those files? They are of the utmost significance to the Vesar’s defense or prosecution.”

  “I can’t,” Dorinda answered with forced stubbornness. “I have to give them to the captain. I promised Vesarius.” She knew it was useless to resist; she had no power here. Neither did Coty, it seemed.

  “Ms. Tanner,” Zaneta warned. “Do as he says. You’ll only get yourself into trouble. That won’t help the commander.”

  Reluctantly, Dorinda complied. “But Vesarius’s the only one who really knew the Pvokx crew.” Her argument seemed hollow as the pile of papers left her weighted arms. “He was their captain. Isn’t anyone trying to defend Vesarius?”

  “You wish to assist me with these?” Tlenck asked her. “You are correct in noting their significance. And they are quite lengthy.”

  Dorinda’s eyes widened in surprise. “You want my help?”

  “You can read, can’t you, Miss … Miss ...”

  “Tanner. Dorinda Tanner,” she stammered. “Yes, of course. I’m a teacher ... was a teacher.”

  “Then you know all about following instructions.”