Truthbreaker

by Kelly Lucille

  "I can spend all my time in my quarters if you would prefer it," she called to his back, her tone somehow both lacking emotion and resigned at the same time. But not a whiff of fear, still. It was quite a feat. "I’m used to my own company."

  He turned back again with the width of the room between them. "The Doctor is not the only crew member on the Jezebel."

  She blinked at his words, her forehead scrunching in confusion. "And that means what?"

  "Come and find me or the Captain when you are rested and one of us will introduce you around and explain what is expected of crew members."

  "I'm not joining your crew," she said her voice turning to exasperation.

  Lore turned and set the room panel to occupied. He held out his hand to her again. "I will set your palm print so that you will be able to come and go, no one but me or the Captain have access to this room without permission."

  She walked forward and this time bypassed the hand he held out to her and placed hers on the data pad without assistance. All the while eying him warily. "Why you and the Captain? I would think it would be medical who would need to get in, in case of emergency."

  Lore was once again at a loss for the right words. She was correct. Most of the rooms were set up so that crew had autonomy in their quarters. The Captain had an override code if needed, but only Doc Henry could get in without jumping through numerous safeguards in case there was a medical reason and time was of the essence.

  There was no logical reason to change that for this woman, other than that he did not like the idea of anyone but him and the captain having unrestricted access. If it was anyone but Trig questioning him he would have merely lied and told her it was just how they did things, but clearly that would not go over with a truthsayer. So instead he told her the one truth he was sure of without even having to ask. "It's the way the Captain will want it."

  The terminal beeped approval of her print and his directive so he made his escape out the hatch before the questions in her eyes could be asked. She got one out anyway. "Why does the Captain want it that way?"

  Lore turned and met her eyes again. With anyone else he would just walk away when they asked something he did not want to answer, but Trig Kelia was not a woman he could ever see himself walking away from so casually. Not with those molten gold eyes clouded with confusion and intent on his answer. "He would feel as I do on this matter."

  "Another non answer," she grumbled. Now looking and sounding less confused and more sarcastic. "Are you always so sphinxlike with your riddles and your penetrating stares?"

  Lore leaned forward and just for a moment allowed his own walls to come down long enough for her to see the darkness he hid from all but one other. Her eyes widened and she slammed her palm against the door sensor plate shutting it firmly between them. "The Captain is like me," he said just loud enough to be heard through the metal plate between them. "We understand the dark."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Tyber watched his first mate leave holding the little truthsayer’s hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He had known the man for years, considered him the only true family he had ever known, and not once in all the years since they had fought their way out of certain death, had he ever seen him touch anyone so casually. Not intentionally and certainly not with such blatant claim. He could not have been more shocked if Lore had pressed her against the nearest flat surface and fucked her brains out.

  He did not need to turn back to Doc to see he was not the only one surprised by Lore’s actions. So his eyes were still studying the now empty hall when he spoke to the Doctor. "You have tea with her, it happens in the mess hall and not behind closed doors. No touch is involved. No cheek kisses, or polite pats on the hand."

  He felt Doc's shocked gaze move to him but did not bother to meet it until the Doc started sputtering.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  Tyber turned to see the other man red faced from his beard to his forehead. His eyes held both confusion and embarrassment. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the studious doctor was a few years younger than his own thirty-eight years. Looking at him always made him feel jaded, and usually as with all his crew, protective. But he had not liked the idea of Doc and the truthsayer having tea together, mostly because she had agreed.

  "She's a patient...I wasn't intending..." Doc sputtered out looking uncomfortable and finally offended. He spoke again with his usual dignity. "I wanted to discuss her abilities, not date her."

  "She's a beautiful woman," Tyber said his eyes taking in everything the Doctor did, and did not, want to show him. "There a reason why you wouldn't want to date her?" Date was not the word Tyber would have chosen, fuck her yes, claim her, even break her until she has no defenses to hide behind, would not be too far from the truth, but it was the word Doc used so he went with it.

  Narrowing his eyes on Tyber, the Doc went from affronted dignity to protective dad in under two seconds. He was giving his own warning when he spoke this time. "She is a beautiful woman, one who has clearly had a time of it and knows enough about how to take bad news that she does not even flinch when it's delivered. Anyone can see that she has closed herself off emotionally to protect herself. And I expect with the way things are going and why we had to come find her that her troubles are only beginning. She is not a woman any man should touch casually. And certainly not two men when she has just been forcefully taken from her home and cast among strangers." Doc finished his speech with a fierce glare he reserved for his defense of the downtrodden. "And I will stand between her and anyone who does not show her the respect every woman, especially someone in her strained situation, deserves."

  Tyber smiled, and he did not need to see it to know that it was a smile with little humor but a lot of teeth. "I like you Doc, I always have."

  When that was all he said Doc lost a bit of his fire. "I don't know what that means in this context."

  "It means stand wherever you like. It will make fuck all of a difference."

  ***

  Tyber was with Mac on the bridge when Lore eventually joined them. Tyber turned to study his oldest friend but Mac spoke while they were still communicating silently across the bridge.

  "Another Truthsayer huh," Mac grumbled in his overloud gravel voice. "What are the fuckin' chances."

  Tyber shrugged without looking away from Lore.

  Mac grunted. "At least this one already has a home to go to. Feels like we are wearing a bullseye with a fucking come and kill us sign for good measure."

  "Not like Warrung needs another reason to kill us all," Tyber said casually. "He manages to catch us with or without the Truthsayer we are just as dead."

  Another grunt from the former space marine, but it was Lore Tyber watched. "Did you get her settled in the guest cabin?"

  "I put her in my cabin," Lore said. "I'll move my things after she has a chance to rest."

  Tyber smiled.

  Mac turned in his seat and looked at Lore. "Why the fuck would you put her there?"

  Lore gave away nothing, merely met Mac's surprised eyes and raised a brow as if he were being his usual perfectly logical self and did not appreciate Mac's tone. "It is the safest place situated next to the Captain. Not to mention if she stays on after Warrung is dealt with this will save her from having to move again."

  "Move what?" Mac asked in his usual grouch magnified by extreme sarcasm. "She came with the fucking clothes on her back, and why the fuck would she stay on with us when she works for the fucking High Ambassador of the fucking Alliance, and even if by some miracle she decided to stay with a salvager, why would she stay in the first mate’s cabin?"

  Lore in his usual manner, just looked stoically at the big space marine and then turned and left the bridge, clearly feeling no need to explain himself.

  Mac turned to Tyber. "Serious as fuck Cap, you need to have a word with him. He's always been a fucking pain in the ass, but at least he used to make sense."

  "Lore always has a reason for the things he does
," Tyber said casually. "I'm sure it will make sense eventually."

  Mac studied him then with narrowed eyes and Tyber was reminded once again that the space marine, as big and loud as he always was, was not dumb. "You know."

  Tyber just smiled at Mac the same way he had at the Doctor. With a whole lot of teeth. His own version of a mild warning for his crew to back the fuck off. "A Captain always knows what’s happening on his ship."

  Mac caught the warning faster than Doc had. But then for all his massive brains Doc was young, and compared to the rest of the crew, soft. Mac was many things, but no one would ever say he was not a survivor. "Right," he muttered low, using the excuse that he needed to check the com to look away from his Captain. "We're all fucked."

  Tyber thought of the golden haired truthsayer with all the secrets in her pretty eyes, walking away hand in hand with Lore Trugarian without a single speck of discomfort between them. Then he thought of how Lore had placed her in his own cabin, the one adjoining his, and wondered when the clever little secret eater would realize his first mate had essentially moved her in with them both.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  She had not exaggerated when she said the cabin was large, even for a normal vessel, but for a salvager, it was unheard of. It was only when she opened a cabinet in the bath area and found what were clearly personal items that she realized she should have asked more questions. Especially when she went exploring and found clothes that belonged to one Lore Trugarian by the cut and style and compelling scent of them. Surely he did not intend for her to share his quarters?

  Maybe the space was as limited as she thought and there was nowhere else to put her?

  She opened the last mystery door on the side farthest from the bath and found it opened to other crews’ quarters. A clearly lived in crews’ quarters. She slammed that door fast and backed away as soon as she recognized the signs of an occupied room as if something was going to jump out and bite her.

  In the brief glimpse she got of the adjoining room, the size alone suggested it had to be the Captain’s. It made her wonder if this room she was in had originally been intended for the Captain’s family rather than his first mate.

  Then she decided she was not going to think about any of the things presently jumbling her mind. Not the intriguing crew members she had met or the worry about the likely reactions she had left behind on the High Ambassadors frigate. She knew the Ambassador and a few of the space marines would be up in arms, but hardly anyone else would notice or worry that she was gone. She had done her part too well to keep her distance. A blessing, really, and also depressing.

  She wondered not for the first time if she was getting a little too good at keeping people at arm’s length.

  Was there a single person who would care if Cor Warrung had taken her instead of the crew of the Jezebel?

  And there she was again, thinking about all the things she had just decided to ignore for now.

  Doc Henry was right about one thing. She needed rest. She removed her robes, the badge of her truthsayer status, her boots, and then the body hugging nanite armor she always wore. She wanted a sonic shower and a bed, in that order.

  The nanite armor was Faustian so it would move, breathe, keep her dirt and particulate free, and protect her in case of attack but just now she needed out of it. It was the best of the best in nanite armor so as soon as she stepped out of the sonic shower she put it back on.

  It fit like a second skin and she was always so used to wearing it that she rarely felt anything but naked and vulnerable without it. If there was a loss of atmosphere it would even expand to cocoon all of her and synthesize the oxygen she would need to survive deep space, at least for a time. In this instance it gave her a much-needed sense of safety. Not that she thought anyone on the Jezebel was a danger to her.

  If she had not had the gifts she was born with then she might wonder, but she would have known immediately if they were attempting to fool her, even without employing the full range of her skills. But as she had found out for herself when Captain Relian took her from the protected heart of the High Ambassador’s frigate, there were no guarantees of safety anywhere. Sleeping in top of the line Faustian nanite armor couldn't hurt.

  Trig pulled back Lore's bedding and was surprised by the soft feel of the full set of sheets and comforter. She was used to the utilitarian Alliance fleet standards, so it had been awhile since she had seen or felt anything as old-fashioned as synth-down and cotton. It was the last thing she expected from the stoic first mate with his precise crisp uniforms and barely lived in quarters. She lay down and marveled at the soft cloud like feel of his big bed. She had expected a pallet on the floor, or at most a mimetic bed that adjusted and expanded as needed. The look of it had been more inviting than most but until she sunk into the depths and pulled the warm cloud of a comforter and soft sheets back over herself she had not realized that it was more than an optical illusion. As strange as that would have seemed for the first officer to bother with. It certainly was not the precisely pulled corners and military grade hard tack she expected.

  Trig sunk into the soft cocoon that was cool to her touch but heated soon enough with her body heat. There as a scent she recognized as belonging to Lore Trugarian, and finally realized what it was that it reminded her of, what his scent called to mind when she was close enough to catch it. Subtle and cool like the unexpected but comfortable feel of his hand around hers.

  Lore Trugarian smelled of the seconds before a planet side storm, where the scent of new rain and ozone danced together. A beguiling and surprising scent for a man who at first glance appeared both coldly beautiful and too perfect to be completely human. A surprisingly pleasant scent that, along with the cocooning warmth of his bed, lulled her to finally rest among the chaos that had sprang up around her.

  She would never call working for the High Ambassador of the Alliance a boring or mundane life, but it had become predictable and, because of her self-imposed exile, lonely. Her friendship with Ambassador Tryne and his daughters aside, she had not allowed herself to get close to anyone, and her quarters on the Frigate had long past lost its sterile appeal. But this, this soft unexpected bed, the people she had already met, and yes the danger she now found herself in, none of it was predictable, or boring. But the most surprising thing about all of it was that she had found an instance of unexpected peace in the bed of one of her kidnappers. And for Trig Kelia peace was as rare as comfort and heat she had found at strange moments since she had been taken.

  A hand wrapped around hers, an offer of a cup of friendly tea, the spike of her heartbeat from a single look, and this bed, that could be described no other way but cozy.

  Trig sighed, relaxing further into the cocoon of Lore Trugarian’s bed, closed her eyes, and finally felt some of the tension and pain in her head dissipate enough that she could truly rest. Her last thought as she breathed in the scent of first rain and ozone, was to wonder what the Captain would smell like if she ever got close enough, while she was conscious, to find out.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Lore checked the monitor on his right to see that Trig was still sleeping. After the fifth time of pulling up the security feed of his chambers he had left it minimized at the top of his computer. She had been nearly unmoving since she had wrapped herself up in his bed and he could barely see anything but the top of her head. It did not occur to him it would be considered strange to watch over her while she slept until Tyber spoke from the Captain’s chair beside and behind him.

  "Are you actually watching her sleep?"

  Lore flicked an eye up to the corner of the monitor once more before swiveling his chair around to meet his Captain’s eyes. Since they could both clearly see her on the security feed he assumed the question was rhetorical, but he answered it anyway.

  "Yes."

  Tyber raised one sardonic brow. But Tyber could feel the surprise and curiosity he was feeling through their link. And he did not need Tyber to voice his questions to know they were there. />
  "Is that not acceptable?"

  "Watching a woman you barely know while she is asleep and vulnerable and without her permission?" Tyber asked and the irony in his voice was not lost on Lore, mostly because he could feel it through the link, not for any insight of his own in human emotional nuance. "No Lore, I would say that is not acceptable. However since you or I rarely worry about what is acceptable, and I can feel for myself your intentions towards the captivating little lie eater I won't quibble. About that, or the fact that you moved her into your own quarters, a place no one but you or I have ever set foot in, had an entire conversation with her about her name of all things on first meeting her, and not only touched her voluntarily but held her hand while you escorted her through the ship like you had been separated at birth and could not bear the thought of her being more than a click from your side. No, we don't really need to get into any of that," Tyber assured him. Mostly Lore knew, because if Lore was feeling it then so was Tyber, such was the nature of the link between them. "What I want to know is what are you going to do if she decides she doesn't want to stay with us?"

  Lore stilled at the question and the feelings they produced in both himself and Tyber. Not even the crew knew of the connection between them that had come into being so many years ago, when he had saved Tyber’s life, and then been saved himself, when Tyber freed Lore from the life of slavery he had been born into. He had no doubt that he would have died in insanity and misery like so many of his brethren if Tyber had not fought for him and then accepted the link that only a clone and his mind link would understand. It was an uncomfortable sensation that came with that question. And rarely was the link between them uncomfortable, they were too intricately linked for that to happen usually, but he did not like that question. And despite having asked it himself, neither did Tyber. Lore turned back to his console and stared at the female wrapped like a cocooned butterfly in his bed.