Draumastjarna Jabal al-ra'd Gerisè Sakre, AKA Medic

  Draumastjarna

  Jabal al-ra'd Gerisè Sakre, other wise known as Sakre or as Micha Bailey preferred simply Medic. Since true names held power for dragons it was rare for one to reveal it in its entirety. It satisfied the ancient beast within the healer to accept the simplicity with which the wily woman had dubbed him with his newest name.

  There was something stirring within him that told him there was something deeper in the name, a sort of faith that empowered it. It held the potential to fuse with his soul. It had been a long time since something had stirred such a longing in him. He had lived several millennia; had been young, for a dragon, at the rise of the Osirus Empire.

  Now he was a healer for a war pack; her pack.

  He had received word that they were arriving shortly, and like a youngling, had dropped everything to go and greet her. It made him laugh, made him lite. It was good.

  He stood next to the landing field and watched the shuttles descended. It did not take much for dragon eyes to perceive Alpha One leading the way. He watched as it shifted midair adjusted its width and length to reduce the space it took on the field.

  She was on Kè Lavi.

  Micha was the first to descend the ramp that came out the nose of the shuttle. She walked as though she was uncertain of her feet and from the closeness of the Shawling she was likely still adjusting to the changes. While he was unable to speak to the effects of the protocol, he knew from experience that as the dragon grew in size and power restructuring to the human form he so often wore required time. She was undoubtably similarly frustrated.

  He knew the instant she spotted him as her face warmed and she made her way over.

  Eyes alight, she whispered. “Hi.”

  Medic smiled equally as warm and nodded. “Welcome to Kè Lavi. How was the flight?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Had to take Max shopping for tech minded slaves and all the gear he requires to set up our own network.”

  “What’d he end up with?”

  “Jorōgumo,” she gave a pensive look. “They are…unusual, but he is pleased.”

  Medic looked back at the shuttle and watched as thirty of something that was a cross between black a widow spider and ancient Japanese royalty descend the ramp; the collars around their necks gilded with gold. Their torsos dressed in beautiful silks of varying colours. The women had their hair up in intricate designs that fascinated the eyes. The men sported long thin mustaches with a simple but elegant bun to hold their long hair up.

  While they were beautiful to look at, they were known for having odd habits like the way one might speak and another finish the thought. That Max impressed them was no small feet, their race often chose slavery in order to locate a master they were willing to use their skills for.

  “It speaks well of him that so many were willing to serve him.”

  “So I’m told,” Micha laughed wryly.

  On impulse Medic tossed a meichi fruit that she often referred to as an apple at her. “Shall I give you the tour?”

  Micha caught the meichi in her hands and crushed it. With a grimace she dusted the bits from her hand. “No one warned me I’d be unable to manage finite skills,” she muttered.

  Medic had an idea. “Instead of a tour, why don’t we go somewhere that wont matter how strong you are and I’ll teach you something I was taught a long time ago.”

  He was able to see her hesitation and nudged her with an extra promise. “It’s not something I’ve ever shown anyone, but it has the ability to aid with control.”

  “Go,” Ni’yell stated. “Until you can hold a quill and paper without crushing both, there is no real point in dealing with the running of the pack.”

  “Okay,” she laughed. “Where to?”

  Medic pointed at the moon above. “I have a compound up there and plenty of room to let loose.”

  Together, they caught up with Mitah and got him to fly them one of four moons. Mitah laughed and motioned them aboard. The flight was short and had Medic not been watching he doubted he would have know they had left.

  “Welcome to my sanctuary,” Medic looked at the unharnessed land and saw potential that was part of an ancient dragon’s power. He knew there was not much at the moment, but it was a start. The sand garden was visible with its winding trail. There was little greenery, but he had only begun.

  “I’m impressed. You,” she turned to face him. “Have done wonders with this place in such a short time. Can I?”

  Her excitement eased something in him as did having her within his domain. He nodded and watched her walk off to explore. He followed as she made her way along the trail of stones. That she was delighted was evident.

  “On Earth,” she spoke softly. “They have similar designs. Some had religious meaning, some were simply a means of bettering the self. Whatever this is, it’s beautiful.”

  “This is one of the exercises,” Medic murmured. “That helps with self-control, but this is not why I brought you here.”

  He motioned for her to follow him down a set of steps that led bellow the ground. Inside was a natural cavern that was large enough to house a dragon; though he had another place for slumber. He had grown accustom to luxury where he slept. Perhaps he might show her, but not today.

  Micha looked about like a tourist within the Louvre. From the ceiling hung lanterns that gave a gentle glow to the space. This was about ebb and flow, about balance. As such it required the right atmosphere.

  “What is this for?”

  Medic grinned. “Let me show you. Then I will teach you. The people who taught me, I met after a great loss. They were dying as a race and wanted to do one last thing. Teaching a dragon,” he saw her eyes go wide. “As old as I was to control one’s emotions through the stringent control of the body was no easy feat. They had,” he lifted a pole weighted it and nodded. “Had to find a metal I could not easily destroy. When they were done years later, I could do what I am about to show you with a pure gold pole without leaving finger prints.”

  Removing his boots and his shirt he stepped onto the warm sand and moved to the center. “The Kwaku Anansi were another spider people, but were passive. They had been ground down, by a more aggressive species, that learned to leave them be,” he had a savage grin when he spoke.

  Micha chuckled.

  Micha watched the half naked man walk across the sand, pole in hand and for a breath he did nothing. Then he moved. Moved seemed like such a crass word for what Medic was doing. It was as though he had become fluid, graceful. There was no wasted movement, no wasted power. His body and the pole were one extension, one being.

  As he danced across the sand a pattern emerged. One step into the next without impacting the one before. With each completion, he picked up speed and the pattern in the sand changed. He was an angel in flight at that moment. She was not even sure his feet still touched the sand.

  He was magnificent and utterly mad if he thought she was able to what he was doing.

  Medic

  He had to admit that at the end he was showing off. He had wanted her impressed and from the look on her face he had succeed. Now chest heaving he made his way to her. There was something in the air something that tug him to her. It was there in her eyes. For just a moment the desire, the need. All too quickly it was gone, but it was enough to know he was not along in that feeling. He was willing to wait.

  For now, he was going to teach her how to dance.

  He started by handing her the pole. When she had it in hand, he felt it give. She winced. He tugged gently.

  “Lose the boots.”

  “Once you know the kata by heart, the limit will be your imagination,” he smiled.

  He set her in the center of the circle and began the slow process of teaching her to feel the ebb and flow of the space around her. Time lost meaning as they each held one end of the pole and he guided her around the sand.

  Her laughter filled the space. Warmed it simply by being and after a time she began to relax and find her own rhythm and balance as they moved. Then he caught her by surprise and spun her until her back was nearly to his. He gently adjusted her hands on the poles and began to show her Kata; step by step.

  Bit by bit she started to show more confidence. She was still tense and the pole moved jerkily, but nothing worth doing was ever achieved over one night. Teaching her to move her feet took the most time. She either hesitated or pushed too much energy into the move, but she never gave up.

  They paused for several breaks, and she often asked questions about the Kwaku Anansi. He was honest in his answers and she laughed and said “it was a bit like the Budda meets Kungfu.” That led to her explaining what the two were and he had to admit there were some similarities. After they halted to eat, he suggested she meditate, not on emptiness, but on inner balance and see where her mind took her.

  As she settled in, he began the slow mantra of ebb and flown. Intoned in a tranquil voice about the power of the tide, the connection of the stars, the flow of time. All the while he moved with his own rhythm. When she surfaced from her meditation an hour later there was an intricate pattern in the sand and stars in her eyes.

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  They spent two months in intimate proximity. Medic knew without a doubt that he wanted to be part of her life in whatever way she was willing, but he had come to yearn for more. If the looks he caught when she thought he was not looking were anything to go by, so had she.

  Instead of the usual pole he grabbled a softer one and moved onto the sand. Micha followed. Nervously, she took the end and he waited for her to begin. She knew the moves, the rhythm. She just needed to believe she was able.

  “Poke me,” he grinned impishly. “Find the flow and poke me.”

  Micha looked uncertain and her first step showed that.

  He glided just beyond her reach. “Come now. You can do better.”

  Micha rolled her eyes and laughed, but put more confidence into her step and it reflected in her reach. There was quickly more effort in every attempt; miss as she continued to do. They began to find a rhythm that was their own. Him keeping just out of reach and her discovering safely the new limits of her enhanced body. Their motions grew a fluid as the tide and as steady as a heartbeat.

  Adding to the challenge, Medic caught the end of the pole and they playfully tussled to see who was able to touch the other first. The intensity was profound, as the dance ended with them a breath apart. Neither moved as they fought to slow their breathing.

  Uncertain he was able to stand that close and not touch, he started to step back. She surprised him, by following. When he stopped, she took another step and rested her head against his chest.

  “Much,” she whispered. “As I miss Renden, I am so tired of being alone.”

  Medic rested his cheek atop her head; leaving her room to step back if he misunderstood what she asked.

  Her lips touched his skin and he shuddered. “Careful, dragons are not known for casual connections. There are reasons people warn about dragon hoards.”

  She tilted her head and peeked up at him through long lashes. “I need someone to ground me. There is…an alienness within me,” she sighed. “I can feel it growing. I suspect it is why the other alphas are less than sane.”

  “Then be grounded.”

  Medic wrapped her tightly in his arms and began to gently sway, but Micha was not satisfied to just be held. Her fingers began to explore the expanse of bare skin within reach. The feather touch lighting a fire too long dormant. Stepping back, she reached for the buttons of her top and grinned impishly.

  Hunger in his eyes, he prowled forward. She slowly back up; teasing, taunting just out of reach. Then her back hit the wall. There he lifted her; her legs wound around his hips. For a heart beat neither moved. It was as though a bell had clanged. Their lips connected and all bets were off. There was no letting the woman in his arm go, not for all the gold in the galaxy.

  Micha woke slowly, an ache in muscles she had not used in so intimate a way in too long. The usual ache for her long gone lover was still there but she was realizing there was still life within her now scarred heart. She had lost count of the hours they had spent wound in each others arms.

  Next to her, Medic lay spent and mostly asleep. She could feel him stirring. Turning into him she closed her eyes and just existed within the moment. Medic’s arm around her waist, her head on his chest, his heart under her ear and their legs tangled. There with no one to hear her as she admited she had needed someone to be stronger than her. Someone steady and reliable. Never had she imagined it was to be Medic that anchored her, but she was glad that she was safe, there, in his arms. Whole in a way she had not felt since waking in that goop. It was as though she felt something in her purr at the comfort he brought with his touch.

  For one moment, she and the entity were one. Medic was theirs. If they could agree on this, there was likely to be more room to meet in the middle. At least she hoped there was.

  Micha bolted up right. Could it be that simple? Was that all that the alphas needed? Was finding an anchor, someone to bind the here and now to the mind truly an answer that might resolve some of her troubles?

  Because she had no doubt now that this was in part what the emperor had wanted. The cunning old coot thought to use her to wrangle the other alphas and blast it if that was not what she intended; but she was going to do it her way.

  Medic’s fingers caressed her shoulder blade. “Matter?” he mumbled half awake.

  “I was just thinking I might have away to balance the alphas, but that can wait,” she sighed as she lay back down. “Much as this interlude was enjoyable, needs must.”

  Medic grunted.

  Micha chortled. “I never imagined the mighty healer to be such a grump on waking,” she teased.

  With a burst of speed, he toppled her onto her back and growled. Micha chuckled at the vigor. Oh well, there was time a plenty and Mitah knew where to find them in an emergency. Satisfied she sank once again into the pleasure that only Medic was able to provide; sturdy as he always was.

  Ni’yell

  Ni’yell orchestrated the barely contained chaos around him as the leaders of each battle area gather to assess the curent strengths of the pack as well as address any concerns or needs. He waited for Ipino to arrive. From the look of those gathered he was the last.

  Searching for the wolf, Ni’yell was distracted by the tug that told him where to find his alpha. She was close. The tie that bound them drew ever nearer. He searched about and spotted her walking between the brothers. Her laughter rang smokey and true. A sound not heard since Renden died. He knew not transpired up on that moon, but she had retuned more alive than she left.

  It was a good thing and in his heart something loosened.

  “Quiet,” Ni’yell spoke softly, but the response was almost instant.

  He listened as one of the brothers said something that set her off again and smiled. Something had been bothering her; had been since she woke from that tank. Truth be told, bothered her still. Yet, there was also a lightness that had been absent.

  He watched the older bother go to tussle her hair and miss. The Shawling had almost missed her move. He was not certain she was aware of her speed, but still she laughed. There was time to solve all that was to come. For now, she was young. He allowed her that moment. Soon enough she needed to pick up the mantle of leader and there would be fewer moments of simple existence.

  She walked up to him at ease as the younger brother waved and headed for the medical camp and his own training. Ipino walked behind her. His eyes only for her. Ni’yell did not believe that she was aware of those feelings. Perhaps in time the wolf might garner the courage to tell her.

  “Good morning,” she smiled.

  Ni’yell nodded. “It is. We are about to discuss the status of the warriors.”

  She turned and with a grace that seemed new to address the waiting leaders. “Where are we at?”

  The meeting was not quick, she addressed each of the leaders, their concerns and needs and promised to find a way to address each. To be certain not to forget she asked that each submit a report to her by days end and reminded them that there were people prepared to assist any unable to write.

  Then she led Ipino and Ni’yell around the new compound. “It’s grown considerably.”

  “Our growth outpaces our supplies,” Ipino sighed all business.

  “That does not surprise me,” Micha replied. “I will look into new outlets for resources. What about building our own?”

  “Not enough smiths,” Ipino grunted. “Right now, we have three: one amour, two weapon.”

  Micha sighed. “This was never going to be easy. Wish I knew how Kevlar was made. Might have come in handy.”

  “The drain on medical supplies had dropped significantly,” Ipino continued. “But replacing the supplies is not so easy.”

  “Then we make our own,” Micha stated. “I will find us the material and teach people to make what I can. As for the rest, we find what we need to make our own. We settle for nothing less.”

  Ipino nodded. “Where do I start?”

  “By getting me a list of our most needed supplies first. Then we organize a warehouse purely for the sourcing of medical supplies. With it we build clean rooms, which I will explain and we will design accordingly. That will go where ever Medic and Desohta think best; likely close to the hospital.

  “We will also need engineers willing to explore new ideas and find solutions to problems. That might be harder than the rest.”

  Both men grunted.

  Micha paused. “Medic reminded me how valuable life is. Showed me that pain can push us to better places if we do not isolate ourselves. Taught me things that reminded of other knowledge I possess that might benefit us.”

  “Such as?” Ni’yell wondered.

  “Dance is good for balance, coordination and cooperation in teams. It teaches us to work in sync with another. So does soccer. It also teaches strategy, power control and larger field communication,” Micha ticked them off on her fingers. “My world, where I was born, might not be better or more advanced. Easy pickings even, but there are gems that will prove useful. It will be uncomfortable finding what works for us, but I intend to draw deeper on some of the information.

  “Kinesiology, physiology are other areas that will benefit. I spent a great deal of time learning the art of healing before I came here. All the fighting we have done might have buried it, but I am beginning to remember again,” Micha smiled radiantly. “Later Medic and Desohta and I are going to sit down and dig through that knowledge and find what might be of use to us.”

  “You seem lighter,” Ni’yell felt a small twinge of jealousy.

  She nodded as she lay her hand against his arm. “You are not him. What we have transcends what he had I share in different ways. Both I value above all else. He gave what I needed. Another time it will be you. Our ties glid both ways. You are my oldest friend. Without whom I’d have been lost. Do not think less of yourself,” she grimaced. “Were I not so lost in self pity we might have reached this place from a different path. For that I am sorry.”

  “There is no need to apologize.”

  Micha dismissed his attempt to rebuff her. “There is, but that is now done. What I need most is a way to prevent such a fog in our troops. On Earth there were mind healers. More advanced that what Keliv III offered. Does such exist here?”

  Ni’yell shrugged. “I do not know. We will have to find out.”

  “Empaths are what we seek. Emotions are far more tied to the mind than we often realize as we suffer. Someone capable of sensing the turmoil.

  “I might know of a race that can do that,” Ipino hedged. “They are often secluded because of the depth of their connection with others.”

  Micha nodded. “That does not surprise me.”

  Ipino rubbed his head. “The Neith are a spider people that live as one with the cosmos. Neith believe that their deity desires they embody creation and strive for the interconnectedness of all things. In their true spider form, they have a unique patterned tattoo they are born with they believe was a gift from the guardian of the Universe.”

  Micha smirked. “I’m guessing you’ve had experience.”

  Ipino winced and nodded. “I have and there is a colony that owes me a favor. Whether they will answer it is another mater all together.”

  “Do you think it worth the ask?”

  Ipino considered what she had asked. Was it worth the ask? At the time they had been searching for a place to belong. “Yes. I will tell Max where to send the message and what to say. We will see what comes of it. They will not fight,” he made that clear.

  “Fighters are easily found. What I need are healers for the mind and heart. If they will come, we will do what we can to meet their needs,” Micha affirmed.

  With a nod, Ipino left to do as she had requested.

  “Now,” Ni’yell rumbled softly. “Will you tell me what worries you?”

  Micha sighed. “That my friend is a loaded question.”

  “What ever it is has been bothering you since you woke in the goo.”

  Micha nodded in understanding. “What ever process was used did something…no that is not right. It created another inside my mind. I can feel it learning, growing. If this was the case for the other alphas, I can understand why they are near mad. There is nothing that ties them to themselves and to the here and now.”

  Ny’yell growled.

  “Easy big guy. I’m not going to lose my mind. Medic reminded me that I have my family to bind me.”

  The Shawling grunted his agreement.

  “It will take time to come to understand just what was created and how to live with it. In the meantime, I am subject to bouts of uncontrollable emotions,” she winced. “At least I can feed myself now.”

  Ny’yell blinked, then laughed. A full bellied sound that startled all that were near until they realized what it was, then the sound was infectious; smile breaking out on face all around them.

  Yes, He decided. It was good that she was once more living in a place that was far warmer. If that meant letting the strange healer into their midst, that was also fine by him.

  Means dreamstar

  Means thunder mountain

  Means sacred healer