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Spirit Warrior
Spirit Warrior
Spirit Warrior
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Spirit Warrior

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Fortified with their overwhelming verbal support, Megog dipped his muscled shoulder and shot forward. Quickly I dodged to the right, but he had anticipated my very move and crashed straight into my chest. He had guessed my path of escape. With a loud thud, my back slammed the mat and my head bounced off the hard rubber surface. Starbursts of pain rocketed through my brain like a meteor shower. I lay there dazed, unable to move.



The crowd jumped to their feet and cheered! Megog had executed a brilliant combination move. This society's love of violence in sport was particularly keen.



Pulling myself to my knees, I couldn't breathe. My eyes refused to focus and all I could see was a colorful kaleidoscope of fuzzy objects. My head felt like it was in a hot steel vice that someone was tightening. Again, I gasped for air, but none came. I knew what would happen next and tried to raise my arms to defend myself, but my body rebelled. My brain couldn't activate my muscles. "Dear Jesus," was all I could say before I fell to the mat in an unconscious heap.

LanguageEnglish
PublisheriUniverse
Release dateMay 18, 2006
ISBN9780595807697
Spirit Warrior
Author

Peter Zindler

Peter H. Zindler, an accomplished playwright and author of a children?s book, Enoch the Elephant, is also a high school wrestling coach, a bodybuilder, and trained as a UFC fighter. He lives with his family in Ramona, California. He is available for speaking. To contact: pete.zindler@navy.mil

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    Book preview

    Spirit Warrior - Peter Zindler

    SPIRIT WARRIOR

    PETER H. ZINDLER

    iUniverse, Inc.
    New York Bloomington

    Spirit Warrior

    Copyright © 2010 by Peter Zindler

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

    iUniverse

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.iuniverse.com

    1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    ISBN: 978-0-595-36332-2 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-0-595-80769-7 (ebook)

    ISBN: 978-0-595-67366-7 (dj)

    Printed in the United States of America

    iUniverse rev. date:

    FOR HIM, WITH HIM, TO HIM.

    Contents

    CHAPTER 1

    CHAPTER 2

    CHAPTER 3

    CHAPTER 4

    CHAPTER 5

    CHAPTER 6

    CHAPTER 7

    CHAPTER 8

    CHAPTER 9

    CHAPTER 10

    CHAPTER 11

    CHAPTER 12

    CHAPTER 13

    CHAPTER 14

    CHAPTER 15

    CHAPTER 16

    CHAPTER 17

    CHAPTER 18

    CHAPTER 19

    CHAPTER 20

    CHAPTER 21

    CHAPTER 22

    CHAPTER 23

    CHAPTER 24

    CHAPTER 25

    CHAPTER 26

    After a meandering journey of twenty-one years there are many people that need to be thanked for their heartfelt encouragement and unmatched assistance.

    Sharing life and many editings with me is my lovely wife and fellow author— Adelaide Sweetness Zindler.

    My two greatest fans and best children on the face of the earth, T and Dree. You both bring a smile to my heart and make me proud! Also, Bree and Laura, my two adopted daughters in the Lord and in my heart—I love you!

    Initially my warm-hearted Mom, Marion, mother of twelve, sat and listened to these ideas for the first time and encouraged me to make it a great story.

    Dad, you always been there with your encouragement!

    To Dave Hurbon—you are Spirit Warrior’s true champion! Thanks for your encouragement. Danni and Steve thanks to you and your store Loaves and Fishes for your continued friendship and support over the years.

    To Trish Schiesser, you’re a mentor extraordinaire!

    Sir Ib Melchior, the first to see these words, thanks for your encouragement. Sir Godfrey Tudor-Matthews, thanks for your noble editing efforts.

    To Cavin, I hope you enjoy this final, final product. Tish Sadler, thanks for your help in the beginning.

    To my loving sisters and constant support team, Meg, Claire, Monica, Christine, Claudia, Cindy, Jenny, Jessie, Sarah, and JJ, thanks for your continued encouragement throughout the years and all the sports you loved to play. Cedar Creek and snowballs, baseball and football, basketball and the pop gun game, we had a great time on the old farm.

    Lisa, you are as beautiful as you are artistic, thanks for the graphics.

    To Nancy and MaryAnn, thanks for your kindhearted efforts.

    Fellow Port Engineers, named Mike, Murphy, Carnes, and Johnson—thanks for your help. Jerry Pelg—you’re the tron man! Bob Schiesser thanks for your help.

    To fellow warriors in the Spirit, Mick Cupples, Kevin Canfield, Jim Murphy, Darryl Kinney, and Jim Sorrels—thanks for your help.

    Honor and esteem to those who pay the price for our freedom—Captain Jim Stewart, Lieutenant Mike Merril, Chief Ives, and Chief Lux—thanks for your vital input.

    Jon, you’ve been great to work with. Thanks for your help.

    To my brother Ned—enjoy!

    CHAPTER 1

    Walking into the cold dressing room, I stopped and looked around. My nerves were tingling, and my stomach was in knots. I couldn’t hear anyone but I could smell the heavy musky scent of sweat. A large red stain pooled on the dark floor. I wondered what price that warrior had paid to enter the battle ring.

    Wolks and Sera, my two great friends on planet Micron, couldn’t attend this championship match because Mercus was declared off-limits—unsafe. Planetary war was imminent and forces from Za-Kar arrested people at their slightest whim. It was sad. Life in the Blue Ring Galaxy used to be quite peaceful, but the encroaching darkness of evil had changed all that.

    Grabbing the half-filled ceramic jar from my locker I began to knead the white cream onto the knotted muscle of my left calf. The herbal ointment stung on the surface, but I could feel its deep heat penetrating the fibers of my sinews. If I was going to have any chance at winning tonight, I needed both my legs to be at full strength. My strategy was first strike, utilizing bursts of speed and precise blows from my feet and fists. Nagging doubts infiltrated my mind. What’s happening? I wondered. Quickly, I got up and stretched my legs. My calf muscle felt better. Once I got into the ring and the electronic gong sounded, I knew I wouldn’t feel any of the various aches that plagued my body from a month of punishing preliminary bouts.

    Are you ready, Vying? questioned an official for this championship match as he rudely snapped me from my solitude. I had not heard him enter the room and this bothered me because I needed to be focused, in tune with my surroundings.

    I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, I called out.

    Good. We’ll start in a little while.

    Watching him leave, I wondered why he or any of the others even bothered to show up. The referees served little purpose in determining who would be the galaxy’s next Crown Champion. They rarely halted matches because there were few rules. The winner-either incapacitated his opponent, threw him out of the ring, or made him tap out. The referee then declared the obvious winner.

    I balled up my fists and felt a spear of pain bolt through my right hand. Without gloves or padding, blows to the head usually hurt both men. My swollen little finger throbbed, and I knew it was broken. It didn’t matter; minor injuries were a part of the sport, and the real test was whether one could rise above the pain threshold and still be able to perform. Pushing my body in training as hard as I could always brought pain, but there was no other way. The mind’s strength to overcome the body’s ferocious outcry to stop, separated the champions from the rest. That familiar barrier of pain was always there, challenging the very essence of my inner being.

    Let’s go, Vying, barked the crew chief as if I were some obedient dog awaiting his every command. I sat there for a while, out of spite, knowing that the champion had to wait on me. The mind battle had begun long ago. There was much at stake this evening.

    Megog, the reigning champion from Za-Kar, had to be stopped! Many light-years ago, he and his uncle were on the same ship that brought us from Earth to this distant galaxy. They also brought the malevolent darkness that now plagued the planets.

    Finally I got up, stretching and twisting at the waist, but I knew I was warm, ready. I took my time walking through the long tunnel underneath the arena. Before leaving the lonely passageway under the auditorium seats, I checked the ties in my boots and pulled up the waist of my blue stretch pants. I sensed a heavy demonic oppression enveloping me, but continued walking bare-chested to the outlet of the tunnel.

    Coming, master, a voice traveled from high up in the arena. I looked up and saw an overburdened young boy carrying cushions and a food tray, following a heavyset man.

    Come on, Dax, you incompetent fool! snapped the merchant, scowling at the boy and not offering to help. For a brief moment our eyes locked, and my anger flushed toward this man’s treatment of the boy. I knew that life as a slave couldn’t be easy. I watched as they entered a row of seats and sat next to some brown-hooded Sandmen from the desert whose fluorescent blue eyes could barely be seen.

    I walked out further and into the arena as the boisterous crowd slowly quieted and all eyes in the triangle-shaped building turned toward me. I heard a couple of shouts of encouragement, but I didn’t acknowledge them. I now began to focus on my first four series of moves. I visualized all possible counterattacks as I walked up the steps to the battle ring.

    Then I saw him! Twenty years of light had passed, but Og’s shiny baldhead was the same. Scantily clad female attendants waited on him surrounded by his demonic squad of troopers paroled from hell’s fiery dungeon. I watched as they arrogantly scanned the audience openly challenging any threats. Og, the Emperor of Za-Kar, never looked my way, as I stood waiting for his champion’s entrance.

    Trumpets sounded and the lights in the building slowly went out. Spotlights searched the audience and finally aligned aligned themselves on the far tunnel. The impatient audience murmured, awaiting his entrance. A great cheer erupted and shook the building as the towering Megog finally made his appearance. Six Imperial Troopers escorted him, moving as he did, pushing the pressing crowd back. Megog, a head taller than most, stopped and stared blankly at a section of the audience. They broke into a frenzy of cheering as if worshipping him. Then he slowly turned his head and looked at another section, completely controlling the moment as if he were a god. In a noisy outburst, they paid homage to him. They clapped and yelled his name at the top of their lungs for what seemed to be an eternity. He took a few more steps and looked in another direction. Again the audience showered him with adoring applause. Satisfied, he walked over to his uncle, Og, and knelt before him.

    Og never moved but looked at the bowed head of Megog, and the audience quickly quieted. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There were over three hundred thousand men and women from various planets in the galaxy and they were all bowing to Za-Kar’s emperor. It was as if they were under his spell. Not a sound escaped. Finally, Og got up and bid Megog to rise. Taller than him, the emperor looked down on his nephew and embraced him.

    Megog turned and mounted the steps leading to the battle ring. He threw off his hooded red robes and lifted his enormous arms, flexing his massive muscles. Thighs like tree trunks stretched the fabric of his black pants. Jagged veins, resembling cords of rope, lined the backs of his thick forearms and extended up, cresting the curve of his biceps. He then lowered his arms and rippled his back and pectoral muscles to the delight of the excited crowd. Clearly he enjoyed being the center of attention and took great pleasure showing off his finely chiseled physique.

    He strolled over to his starting point on the outer circle, hungrily searching the front row for the lovely Zelestar. The shapely black-haired beauty from Milo had crowned him champion the previous year. Word had it that Og had pressured her father, King Alpen, into giving his only daughter in marriage in return for their planet’s neutrality. I watched as Megog feasted on her total beauty, but she did not look at him. He turned his head and followed her line of vision and discovered that I was the object of her attention. He glared at me, raging hate pouring out of his eyes like a frothing river.

    The lovely Zelestar gracefully got out of her seat and walked up to the battle ring. The referee held the ropes open and she climbed into the ring. Men and women were captivated by her beautiful eyes, offset by high cheekbones and a flawless olive complexion. Her deep red free-flowing gown displayed class and exquisite taste. Over one shoulder draped a gold sequined scarf that flashed beautiful colors throughout the arena. Without a word she began to sing a heartfelt song of love to the Creator of the Universe. Her words were out of place in this rough crowd, but Zelestar’s melodious voice, filled with emotion for the Almighty Father, disarmed the hardest of hearts. The last few notes seized their spirits and at first stunned them; there was no applause, so gripping was the tone of her words. Slowly, scattered applause broke out and then, like an offshore breaker crashing into the beach, they all stood and cheered.

    Zelestar lifted her hands to the Almighty and softly praised Him, giving thanks for the gift He had given her. Then she looked around, nodded, and smiled brightly, acknowledging the crowd’s growing ovation as she returned to her seat.

    The mood quickly shifted as the electronic gong sounded. I was the obvious underdog in the battle ring, which measured forty leeds in diameter. With eyes locked on each other, we advanced to the inner circle. I shifted to my right, never allowing my legs to cross, staying on the balls of my feet, ready to attack. Megog countered gracefully and smoothly. I knew that one paid dearly if they took their eyes off this huge warrior. My defense would be constant movement to avoid the onslaught of his pulverizing blows.

    Come, little one. Do you really think you can defeat me and steal the woman that has been promised to me? growled Megog in a jealous fury.

    Having never met Queen Zelestar, I wondered what he was talking about. Back on Micron, Sera awaited me.

    I thought you died when our ship crashed, taunted Megog with a smirk.

    Slightly nervous, I ignored his verbal jabs. Coolly I kept moving, keeping my eyes trained on Megog, awaiting an opening. I couldn’t afford the slightest miscue against this colossal champion.

    Megog lunged forward. Unexpectedly, he leaped high into the air! My opponent was quite nimble. His great strength was not the only reason he was Crown Champion. I dodged his airborne assault. Megog crashed and rolled as I charged swiftly and threw three lightening quick punches to his kidney. Although my fists were small, I knew they could inflict significant damage to the big man, because of the strength in my shoulders and triceps.

    Megog

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