Page 17 of Sol Survivor

Drafe gripped the staff as Vaen had demonstrated—one hand a short distance from the butt, the other below the middle.Ulvus clasped it with both hands at the butt.Drafe thudded the staff against the target, narrowly missing Ulvus’s head when he ducked.Drafe knelt, not checking if Ulvus would swing.No thwack followed.Drafe didn’t hesitate and leaped to his feet, the staff ready.

Pain exploded across his upper arm.He sucked in a sharp breath, reigned in his fury, and slid back from the mark.His symbiotes vibrated, demanding he retaliate.Once was an accident.Despite the fire spreading down his arm, he arched a brow at Ulvus.“Shall we begin again?”

“Of course,” Ulvus grinned and raised the staff to ear height.

Drafe forced his legs to move, to step into place.Without hesitation, he ducked, wincing when Ulvus hit the target.Drafe jumped up and swung, the force of his anger traveling along the staff to the padded target.He dropped to a knee and waited.

No connection sounded.He glanced up, catching Ulvus’s smirk.When the staff hit Drafe’s ear, he swallowed a cry of surprise and sheer agony as if his head would explode.Sharp needles ricocheted from the side of his head to behind his eye, making it water.He cupped his ear, grimacing at the stickiness of his blood wetting his palm.

“Enough,” Dau Lo roared, snatching the staff from Ulvus.

“Oh, my apologies, Dau Lo.”Ulvus bowed.“I did not mean—”

“I am not blind, Ulvus Karu,” Vadril Ot said, his calm tone slicing through the chaos.

A red-orange-haired male from the Giniiri tribe leaned over Drafe, running his arm over the injury.The glowing name across his vest said ‘Giniiri aac Nenn.’The burning ceased, along with the persistent humming.Given time, Drafe’s symbiotes would have healed him.Vaen took up a protective stance between Ulvus and Drafe.

Scowling, he staggered to his feet, gripped Vaen by the upper arm, and nudged him aside.“Ulvus Karu, my apologies.I did not demonstrate the process.”He took the staff from a stiff Vaen.“Shall we try again?”

“This is illogical,” Vadril Ot stated.

“In Ulvus’s defense, the process was not demonstrated, Vadril Ot.”Drafe dipped his head to show respect.“I had hours to observe Vaen.”

Dau Lo frowned and whispered to Vadril Ot.The superior stiffened and gestured to security.

Borven aac Igar drew near, his gold eyes narrowed, almost lost against his dark orange skin so like the canyons he called home.“Great Ot?”

“Send the recording to the Senate and the Qaldreth Command Council.”Silence settled while Vadril Ot stared at Drafe.“Escort Ulvus Karu to the vault to await sentencing.”

Ulvus trembled and fell to his knees.“Please, Great Ot—”

“Dau Lo warned you, Ulvus.Yet you allowed your lust for vengeance to govern your behavior.”Vadril Ot flicked a dismissive hand, elegance in his long fingers.“Drafe Karu, walk with me.”

Drafe stiffened, shoved the staff at Vaen, and trailed the Ot.He said nothing, waiting for the Ivoyan to reveal his thoughts.

Once they had left the training grounds and were alone on a sunlit pathway toward the Senate—a hovering building on the horizon, Vadril Ot drew to a halt.

“Tell me, Qaldreth, why did you allow that male to harm you?”

“It costs me nothing to bow like a cucooya tree in a gale.I will not break if I maintain humility.Against a male stronger than me, I cannot stand firm.It would be my death.”

“So you allow him to believe he is the victor.”Vadril Ot chuckled.“A flawed strategy.Ulvus Karu knows what you are doing, Drafe Karu, which is why he will repeatedly challenge you.I suggest you find another approach.”

Drafe slumped for a second before straightening.“You are wise to suggest this, Great Ot.”

“Idolike you.You remained calm, gave him the benefit of the doubt when you knew his actions were deliberate, and still, you offered him a way out of his consequences.”Vadril Ot grasped Drafe’s cheeks, cupping him from jaw to hairline.Tilting his head, the Ivoyan studied Drafe’s face before releasing him.“Once you have completed your training, I will request your service as arrak.”

Drafe stared after the ot, too stunned to form words.His symbiotes bounced as they’d done the first time he’d quenched his thirst.A slow smile blossomed into a grin.

Osnir had seen fit to bless him again.

A decade later.

The Senate

Planet of Ivoy

Drafestiffened,slidinghishand onto his pulsar holstered to his back.He held his breath, his gaze tracing the Ivoyan running out of the Senate.Boxes teetered in his long-limbed arms, his extended fingers splaying out to stabilize the shifting mass.Drafe drew in a deep breath, the tension between his shoulders easing.The Ivoyan was an uz, a servant, as categorized at birth and by the blue uniform molding his orange form.

---