Page 32 of Warrior (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #2)
Daisy
Dignified transfer.
The solemn procedure used when a fallen soldier’s body returns to his home base. This was the most heartbreaking of all the things I had to do as a minister's wife.
One of the most poignant services I attended was with a wife not much older than I’d been at the time. When she followed her husband's casket from the plane, her grace and strength struck me. Days later, after the funeral, I commented on her behavior and how she’d impressed me.
"His sacrifice deserved respect and strength," she'd told me. "I will not dishonor him by behaving any other way.”
I wanted to do the same for Daicon.
His hand was warm, skin still soft and supple under my stroking fingers. Behind me, the children's sobs softened with exhaustion.
I’d held his hand since we’d placed him on the bed in the ship's poor excuse for a med-bay.
George did all he could with the handheld device, but by that time, over half of Daicon's blood lay on the ship's floor in thick, black puddles. The little healer wouldn’t say it, but I saw the helplessness in his dark eyes.
Daicon somehow managed to get a message to the Bardaga, and the ship set a course to intercept us as soon as possible, turning what might have been a voyage of a week or more into just three days.
It was still too long.
Too late.
I’d held Daicon’s hand as the last breath rattled from his body only an hour ago. An hour that I spent cursing this ship and the Bardaga for not moving fast enough. An hour I’d spend praying and bargaining and begging God not to take him from me.
When Gavin died, my stages of grief didn’t include denial. There was no time to consider it wasn't real. He was just gone, and I had to figure out how the church and I would move on.
With Daicon, even though my logical mind knew he’d passed, my heart wouldn’t accept it. I felt like there was a link between us, an unbreakable chain pulled taut as I tried to keep him from slipping away. When the chain finally broke….
The ship gave a low groan and shuddered, one final heavy thud heralding our arrival on the Bardaga. The massive battle cruiser came into sight a few minutes ago, making the children gasp with awe. I hadn’t cared to look, even when the jerk of the Bardaga’s tractor beam grabbed our small ship.
I couldn’t leave him.
Not yet.
I feared I wouldn't survive if I removed my grip from his hand. Crazy, but that’s how I felt. When Gavin died, I wondered how I would move on without him. With Daicon, I couldn’t see past this moment, as though my future did not exist in a universe without him.
“Kida?”
A gentle hand landed on my shoulder. I glanced at Ewok, the fleshly portions of his teddy bear face as red and swelled as my own.
“Kida, they wait for us to disembark.”
My gaze flickered from Ewok to Daicon. My love lay like an effigy. A Greek god carved from stone, the tawny mane lying over his shoulders in thick waves. The thought of leaving his side caused a drowning swell of grief and fear.
“We… we can’t leave him.”
“We won’t, kida.” Ewok squeezed my shoulder gently.
At his words, I heard the shuffle of little feet surround me.
“We will take him, kida,” Cuietsu said in a voice hoarse from crying.
“The younglings wish to show him respect,” George said, stepping nearer. His eyes weren’t red, but a deep dark blue, swollen and aching. “They will carry the warrior on this final leg of his journey.”
I wanted to argue. Daicon was huge, almost seven feet tall. How could a group of children, most half my size, carry him? Yet the small bodies crowded around the bed, grief, and determination etched on their faces.
I felt Ewok’s fingers close over my hand, gently but firmly pulling my grip from Daicon.
I wanted to scream at him to stop that I couldn’t let him go, but before the words burst from my mouth, a fissure of cool air slithered between my hand and Daicon's.
My breath felt like fire in my lungs, and my stomach rolled.
I survived, but the pain in my heart was unbearable.
Ewok’s furry hand gripped my fingers as tightly as I’d held on to Daicon. On my other side, George's cool fingers wrapped around my own.
“We must go, kida.”
George reached over, flicking the gravity switch on the bed.
It was a remarkable piece of technology.
The bed floated, rising and falling at the whim of the occupant or healer.
There was a whoosh and groan as the device lost buoyancy, and every child bore the weight of the man who died to protect them.
The children moved toward the doorway, feet shuffling under the weight they carried. Daicon was heavy, but no one made a sound. With Ewok and George by my side, hands clasped tightly in mine, we waited for the huff and groan of the ramp descending.
Four Vaktaire awaited.
They were large, like Daicon, tall and heavily muscled.
Warriors. The one in front was a smidge larger than the rest. He stood tall and straight, bright golden eyes following our movements.
His outfit was the same as Daicon wore. Leather-like pants, black boots, and a sleeveless black vest stretched taut across his chest. Hair hung over his shoulder, thick like Daicon's, but black and straight.
The others wore something leaning more toward a uniform.
Pants, sleeveless double-breasted tunics, and boots.
Each wore his hair in braids of differing lengths.
As the children approached the ramp's end, each of the men bowed their heads. The largest male stepped forward and thumped his chest in a salute.
"Your reverence is noted, little ones." He stepped forward, hand reaching to flip on the bed's gravity field, and a faint hum filled the air. "You have paid our war chief a great honor."
The little ones relaxed their grip on the bed, but none moved away.
The big guy gazed down at Daicon, his gold and cobalt gaze flickering with sadness.
He motioned to one of his comrades, and the shortest man stepped forward.
While he dressed in the same style as the others, his pants and tunic were in a shade of beige instead of deep navy.
His eyes held the same cobalt sclera, but the golden irises were ochre instead of golden.
His long fingers flickered over Daicon's body, touching pulse points.
When he looked up at the larger man and shook his head, I nearly bit my tongue in half to keep from sobbing.
In a deliberate movement, George let go of my hand, stepped forward, bending to one knee, and bowed his head.
“I am sorry, my lord Chieftain. I did everything I could for him.”
The large man—the Chieftain—stepped away from Daicon's side, laying a hand on George's frail shoulder. A gentle touch.
“You did well for one so young.” His voice was deep and authoritative as he drew George to his feet. "His death is not yours to bear."
The Chieftain's golden gaze met mine, and the empathy reflected on his handsome face stole my breath.
“My name is Khaion, Chieftain of the Bardaga. Welcome. It is our honor to care for you as Daicon would have.”
I blinked furiously, tears burning with the need for release. I managed a curt nod and opened my mouth to respond, hesitating as I feared my voice would warble.
“Daisy!”
She ran toward me, wearing simple navy slacks and a tunic with vibrant red curls bouncing around her face. She'd been beautiful at sixty, but since her trip through the machine rebirthing her twenty-something form—Emmy was utterly breathtaking.
She stopped a few feet away, her gaze dancing toward Daicon’s still body before finding mine again, her green eyes shimmering. I felt a tear streak down my cheek, and her expression slowly shifted. One long look…that's all it took for her to recognize my heartbreak.
Two more steps and her arms were around me. We were approximately the same height, so it was easy to lay my head against her shoulder, let go... and sob.
And sob and sob and sob.
Khaion moved close, his large hand reaching the middle of her back for support. A simple touch of comfort. A touch I would never again feel from Daicon.
“He got stabbed because of me.”
Ewok’s agonized confession brought a moan from my lips.
I pulled back from Emmy’s hold to reach for him, but the Chieftain moved faster.
He lifted Ewok, holding the child against his broad chest and patting his furry back as he sobbed.
My heart twisted watching the small furry darling wallow in guilt that wasn’t his to bear.
“It is not your fault, little one,” Khaion soothed. “Daicon died a warrior’s death—the type of death we all should want. We will honor his bravery and courage.”
The sound of the children sniffling rose like the crescendo of an orchestra. George wiped his eyes with a loud sniffle, his guilt causing deep creases in his pale blue skin.
“You did all you could for him, young one." The man who examined Daicon's body laid a gentle hand on George's shoulder. ,"You should feel grief as we all do, not shame.”
George gave a nod, but I could tell from the tight set of his shoulders that the words didn’t settle easily. He wiped his eyes again. “If we’d only had access to a 7tX 4729E healer, I could have saved him.”
“A healer? Like the one we took of the cat-aliens ship?"
Emmy’s question made me gasp, my eyes jerking to George.
The dark blue eyes met mine, flickering with something like hope.
“You have a healer on board?” George spoke slowly.
“Yes,” Khaion's brows drew together. "We took the one from the Trogvyk ship before destroying it."
George echoed my gasp, dark blue eyes meeting mine. In Khaion’s arms, Ewok twisted to stare at us.
"It's not too late, kida," George murmured.
Not too late.
Then why was George hesitating? Because of me. He was waiting for me to make the decision. It still made me queasy to think a machine had the power of resurrection, but at this moment, if the devil himself rose from hell and offered a way to save Daicon, I would take it without hesitation.