One second she was on PortSea struggling to control the blast of knowledge that was nearly overwhelming her senses, and the next she fell into Tyber Relian’s eyes and found herself someone and somewhere else entirely.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Trig felt as if her head was spinning and even when the world became clear again, it was as if she was seeing two different realities. It was only when it became too much, and she closed her eyes that she finally understood she was no longer in her own head but had somehow managed to get herself mind linked to Tyber Relian. Then she felt Lore’s presence beside her own, watching just as she was. She had no idea why, or how, or why this particular memory, but the more she tried to pull away the more her mind fought her, and when she saw what was happening, her curiosity got the better of her. It was only then that she realized that they were watching this and reliving a memory from Tyber’s point of view. She almost opened her eyes to try to escape again, but then she was fully sucked into the memory, and her chance had passed.
***
The shuttle bay was recognizable, but even if she had never seen the inside of the Jezebel’s docking bay she would have known it. What Tyber knew, she knew. So she recognized the large clang as a shuttle docking before the airlock chamber opened and spilled out the disreputable crew that had manned it. A small wiry bald human came through with the rest and Tyber recognized him from the com links they had already shared, though he looked smaller in person, standing at just over a thin five and a half feet. Compared to the many diverse males that followed him, he looked like a child who had wandered in by mistake.
He was armed better than most space marines so there was that. He also looked shifty, was the only word Tyber could use to describe the roving beady eyed look on his face. Then the man saw Tyber and his face shifted into something that looked at least a bit trustworthy, if Tyber was the kind to take such things at face value, which he decidedly was not. Already his gut was telling him something was off about this salvage, and this man.
Tyber was a salvager, and he rode the line of the law quite often in his work, but no one had ever accused him of anything worse than smuggling some questionable finds without paying Alliance taxes on it. Not even that had been proven, so he was used to straddling the line, and taking chances. He was good at it.
When the man, Jones, finally made it across the shuttle bay Tyber had gotten a good enough look at the salvage crew and was more than ready to call the whole thing a loss. With his shiny attire, beady eyes, and bald head, Jones reminded Tyber of a dredge beetle. He did not need to remind himself that they were poisonous as well as ugly.
"You said labor, not slave labor," he gritted out at the little man who had clearly just stepped off his shuttle with a dozen slaves.
"What does that matter?" Jones sneered. Looking, if anything, even more overdressed than the times they had spoken on the com. Favoring loud colors and shiny fabrics he stood out even more against the drab hopeless brown slaves that surrounded him. "If anything you can get more work out of a slave than a free man because they have no choice but to do as they are told, for as long as we wish to work them."
The words did nothing but make Tyber angrier. And he was seconds away from ordering the man off his ship with his illegal slaves when one of the men met his eyes. Something about the way the man looked at him had Tyber shifting uneasily, not because he felt threatened by the man, but because he could almost feel as if there was a warning for him in that look.
Tyber read that warning and turned back to look over Jones. The look in his eyes was almost one of anticipation. He was expecting Tyber to balk. When he realized that, Tyber turned his eyes to the slaves, and saw that while they were not openly armed, there was enough lumps and creases in their brown drab to suggest there were probably hidden weapons among them. Not something you usually gave a slave. Unless that slave’s job was not labor but killing.
Tyber looked back at the black-eyed slave and once he met those eyes again, the man gave him a small almost unseen nod, as if he could guess what Tyber had seen and was verifying it. If he balked at the slaves, Jones had every intention of killing him and taking his ship. He supposed it made more sense to do it that way and had to wonder how many times the man had pulled this same trick. Perhaps not with salvager's, or he would have heard something, but in other businesses, yeah, he would bet credit this was not the first time Jones had done this.
"Fine," Tyber finally said. Right before he pulled his laser pistol and placed it right between Jones' eyes. Fast enough, that none of the others were able to react before he had the deed done. There was some satisfaction in seeing the little man’s eyes widen in fear. "Have your men drop their weapons and get back on the shuttle or I will introduce your brains to the room."
Then, because he just had that kind of luck, all hell broke loose. He did not see who pulled their weapon first, but he did know that the black-eyed slave saved his ass in those first few seconds. Because there was no way for him to keep an eye on that many dangers in the small space of his cargo hold. Even with the help he would have died if the little bastard he was about to kill hadn’t called out. “No lasers, we don’t know if the shields will hold in this garbage heap.”
Since he had managed to slip away from Tyber in that first rush he apparently thought he was safe behind a cargo pod, and his armed slaves. Enough to insult the ship he was trying to steal at any rate. Tyber promised himself right then and there that no matter what else happened, who else died today, that little derdg beetle would be one of them.
Swords slid free of hidden sheathes with numerous swishes all around him, Tyber did not have the same worry about laser fire. He knew his shields would hold, so he used the pistol to take out as many as he could before they swarmed him with steel, and he was forced to pull his sword.
Then he got serious about the killing, and more than once as he fought his way through the half a dozen combatants that were still standing he caught sight of the other one, the black eyed slave fighting his own battle across the cargo bay. He was even starting to believe they would win the battle, when a clang moved the grated metal under his feet, and a second shuttle locked onto their hull, and promptly blew a hole in it. The swarm of battle-hardened pirates that joined the fight were too numerous to stop in the middle of battle and count. Seasoned fighters this time. They were also not on his side.
A back hit his, and he knew whose it was before he felt a strange flash of heat in his head. Not a blow but a mind seeking connection. How he knew that was what it was he could not have described, but he did, just as he knew it was the black-eyed slave covering his back that was offering it. The man was skilled, and faster than Tyber if the whirling motion behind him was any indication. He would not still be alive if he were not, but Tyber had trained under his father since he was old enough to hold a blade. If they could combine his fighting style with this man’s speed they might have a chance to win, even against these odds.
Of course that required a level of trust that Tyber was not sure he could give to someone he knew well, let alone a stranger. He had heard of mind linked fighters, though they were so rare they could just as easily be called myths. He just never thought such a link would be offered to him. Not that he had much of a choice, they either fought and killed everyone else, or they died. It was the only way they had a chance at surviving. They could deal with what it meant to form that bond after they survived today.
Without giving himself another moment to doubt Tyber threw himself into the forming mind link, and whole worlds opened before him.
In the seconds that it took the bond to fully form he took a sword strike to the arm and the man at his back barely managed to duck a blow that would have separated his head from his shoulders. Then it was as if they were one fighter, one mind, and one whirling death.
Tyber moved faster than he thought possible, while the swordsman at his back moved with a new skill that should have taken him a lifetime to learn. And they moved as one deadly body, k
nowing as if on instinct when to duck and when to lunge around each other. They became a deadly dance of death in that cargo bay until with one last slash and twirl they were suddenly the only ones left standing. And piles of corpses surrounded them.
Tyber dropped his sword arm and wondered when the adrenalin would leave, and he would crash. He turned to meet fiercely shining black eyes. He didn’t look like a slave now. But then, battle elation was riding them both.
"What is your name?" he finally asked and wondered that he was not more out of breath.
"Lore," the man said looking less like a slave by the minute.
A sound drew them both to the bulkhead and the small bald man huddling in fear behind it.
The man cringed down and covered his head when he saw them looking his way.
“Don’t kill me.” He looked up and met Lore’s eyes with desperation in his. “I saved you from the mines, you would have died if I’d left you there. Or ended up in a brothel, or worse.”
Tyber looked to Lore, a little uncomfortable to know he felt everything that Lore was feeling, no explanation required.
What the galactic hell did this man think was worse than ending up in a brothel?
He did not expect the voice in his head to answer his unspoken question, so it was a shock when he heard Lore as easily as his own thoughts. With what I am, there are too many heinous choices to contemplate.
That was going to take some getting used to, Tyber thought.
Lore was talking out loud however. For Tyber’s comfort he was sure. “I am a clone,” he explained. “The best I can hope for is the Alliance to discover what I am and execute me swiftly.” Then he looked at the little derdg beetle at their feet. “But I do not believe enslaving me rather than leaving me to die, is enough of a reason to keep you alive as you seem to think.”
Tyber shrugged. “Do you know who he works for?”
“I do,” Lore assured him. Then Tyber swung his sword and removed the beetle’s head from his shoulders.
Then met Lore’s eyes over the last corpse. “That saves me some time.”
He turned fully to Lore and looked him over. He could see the clone now that he had said it. He was a little too perfect looking to be natural born. And considering the amount of death they had dealt they were surprisingly not swathed in blood. That took a precision of movement that was more than strictly human. A neat trick he had never been fast enough to pull off before the link. "I thought all the clones had already been killed."
"A few of us survived the purge," Lore said with no inflection to his voice. "I was already working in the mines on Sketir when the rest of my kind were destroyed. When I was too big to work any longer I was sold as a slave again. He is correct in that many see my kind as abominations and will kill me if I am discovered."
Tyber could not keep the wince from his face when he heard the name Sketir. It was well known that children were enslaved for the work in the Sketir mines. The caverns were elaborate catacombs that only the smallest and lightest could survive. But as far as he knew, only those directly involved with the mine itself knew where it was located. And it was a well-known fact that children died in droves, before they got too big to be of use. The Alliance had been unsuccessful for years trying to close it down. Now they just made the selling of Sketi stones illegal in Alliance worlds. That did not stop the sale of it, but it did raise the prices for smugglers.
"I'm looking for crew," Tyber said and he could feel the eyes of the other man as if he had suddenly said something intensely interesting.
"Is that another way of saying I serve a new master?"
"It's my way of offering you a job." Tyber said emphatically. "We can negotiate pay and it comes with room and board, or I can drop you off somewhere and you can go your own way."
"I have a tracking chip," Lore said.
Tyber shrugged. "Then we will need to find a doctor and have that handled first." He turned and headed out of the shuttle bay. He was almost to the lift when he realized Lore was not following him. He turned back around to find him standing where he had left him just watching. "Want to learn to pilot a spaceship?"
“The bond we have formed,” Lore finally sounded hesitant, in his head and out of it. He finally addressed the thing they were both avoiding. “It is permanent and will become more complete in time.”
“A little late to worry about it now,” Tyber assured him. “It’s not as if we can change what has happened, and I understand why you offered it. If you had not we would have died. I can put up with someone else in my head when the alternative is death.” Tyber looked him in the eyes. “I was eventually going to find crew anyway. Having one person who I can trust at my back, without fear of betrayal is not the worst way to start acquiring one.”
That had Lore finally showing a reaction. Relief, for being accepted. His kind did not like to be alone, but he had always believed he would die, as a slave, with no family of his own to remember him. A flash of loneliness for his past and hope for the future that he had never known. He nodded once.
He did not hesitate another moment but started walking. Tyber led him out of the cargo bay. Already thinking of what needed to happen next. They needed to find a doctor. But first he could give Lore his first lesson in flying. From his reaction he had no doubt that the man would take to it. Between that, his proven ability to survive against great odds, like coming out of Sketir alive when so few did, and for the bond that was even then strengthening between them. Already Lore had saved his life, risking death for a stranger, so Tyber was willing to go on faith here.
“You know the location of Sketir?”
That had Lore turning to face him again. “I do.”
“I have a contact in Alliance command we can shoot it off to.”
Lore studied him a long moment. “And will this Alliance contact do something with that information?”
Tyber shrugged keeping his eyes locked on the other man, studying him as much as being studied in return. “We will hear about it if he does. If he does not we’ll try someone else. Eventually someone will take action.”
“The man who sent Jones runs Sketir.”
Tyber smiled then. A showing of teeth. “Even better.”
Lore nodded once after another long searching look at Tyber and headed for the bridge, and his first lesson in being a salvage pilot.
***
Trig felt the memories in her mind blurring and swirling together. Then she found herself once again in her own head. She opened her eyes to see the attention of the whole room on them. And Tyber and Lore looking as pale as she felt.
Now what? she wondered even as she caught her breath.
She had set out to show how her power worked and got caught in something else entirely. And the connection she felt, the mind link between her, Tyber and Lore that made that shared memory possible, she could still feel it. Holding the three of them together like invisible string leading from one mind to the other and back again until a solid web of tangled string bound them tight. And whereas before she had barely noticed it, after that memory between them it now felt unbreakable and tangled up. Not something she could easily break free of. And worse, she could feel both men and if anything they both felt…content, and almost gloating over the web binding her to them. What that meant for them she did not have a chance to panic over.
A sound from the doorway drew all eyes there.
Kira stood there looking at Danika and Lucan.
"I know it is not the time, but Dara," Kira sucked in a breath as if whatever she knew was not something she wanted to share. Then she continued. "She had another vision and you need to know." Then she looked at Trig with big worried eyes, and Trig had a bad feeling about what the child had seen. "I don't know how she knows or why, but she said that they were coming for Trig."
"We knew that," Barnos said what they were all thinking. "And we finally know why he wants her."
Kira shook her head. "No," she said. Her eyes sad and from where Trig was standing she
could see the shaking the woman was trying to hide. She knew through her gift that it was Cor Warrung that scared the woman so badly, and she also knew that the woman had suffered when she was too young at his hands. The flashes of what she saw in Kira's eyes made her want Warrung dead twice as much. But right now her words and her fear were for Trig. "They are not coming to take her. They are coming to kill her. They intend to fly in when your next trade shipment is due. Dara said she saw your cargo ships blown to pieces across the beach just when the other ships attack."
Well, Trig thought. That was new.
They all turned to look at Warrung. He looked back grimly. “Tomorrow then. By mid afternoon I am expecting a drop of goods.” He looked to Tuft. “I take it you have not been able to warn them?”
The big man shook his head. “We haven’t received confirmation of your new orders to stay away and we can’t raise anyone outside of PortSea on our Com.”
“Then it will be tomorrow.” Lucan looked around the room. “Assess your defenses and let me know what you need to be ready. Tomorrow we go to war.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Tyber was done. He had hustled Trig with him and Lore back to the Jezebel because he needed to prepare and then move the ship out of danger for what was coming. he needed her close while he did that, and he did not give her the chance to argue anything different with him. As far as he was concerned tomorrow was the day that Cor Warrung died. And in the morning he would be forced to take her back to PortSea because she would be better defended there but for tonight he needed her close, and Lore needed that even more than he did.
Trig was unnaturally quiet and subdued. But he would take that as long as he got his way in this.
Tomorrow they would do what they had to, to keep her safe. He would be damned if they lost Trig. Not to this bastard, not to anything. Tomorrow they would go to war. Tonight he had a different battle to fight.
Truthbreaker Page 12