JP: Commodore Taybrim & Lt. Cmdr. DeVeau - “Vulnerable” (Part 4)
Amanda Nordstrom
((Virixis VI - Alora’s Cabin))
It occurred to Sal, in a slowly evolving thought process, that his own self-sacrificing actions were quite triggering for someone who had lost so much. He started to feel foolish.
Taybrim: ~ How long have you carried this burden? ~
How long? It seemed like forever. It clouded everything, overshadowed everything. Even when she was able to shove it aside and focus on life, it was, lingering in the shadows, a pacing dragon ready to strike and lash out without warning.
Alora trembled and she took a few more steadying breaths. One. Two. Three. It was an established pattern, a silent mantra that sometimes worked, sometimes didn’t. In that moment, perhaps the soothing presence of the man across from her aiding in its effectiveness. Closing her eyes, she finally answered.
DeVeau: ~ A little over a year. ~
Her eyes opened, but it wasn’t necessary. He was still there, she saw him, felt him. She didn’t need to use her eyes.
DeVeau: ~How long have you held on to yours?
Taybrim: ~ Some of it for days, some of it for decades~
She had to take another moment, had to focus on something else, something other than herself, something other than her own story, her own sorrow. Once again, her hands clutched at him, and she noted the softness of the sleeves, the soft rhythm of his breath, the brightness of his hair, the darkness of his eyes.
Breathe, slowly. Focus on the here and now.
He had spoken words that had been spoken before, to her, to remind her, to bring her back to the present. Now, they echoed again, that time in his voice. Another series of breaths followed.
DeVeau: ~Maybe it’s time you shared it.~
He paused and reached out, hesitating for a moment.
Taybrim: ~I mean this when I say this is strictly confidential. But you do need to know.~
Alora frowned. Everything was confidential. That was a given. She knew he would say nothing about anything she’d shared, she would offer the same respect. But something in the way he said it unsettled her .
DeVeau: ~It will remain confidential.~
A touch, featherlight like fingertips against her mind. A memory so fresh it was still warm and weeping.
An unauthorized trip, through back passages, avoiding all the reporters. Whyever would there be an issue going to one’s own home? Hauke told him to stay on the Narendra. But this was such a small break of orders. He just wanted to retrieve one or two personal effects.
He paused at the door, hand over the lock. A momentary bad feeling. Double checking. Nothing.
Home. Quarters. Sal had beautiful quarters. Non-standard. Organic curves, hardwood, full of plants. Bathed in a dim golden glow from a table lamp. Peaceful, serene, comforting.
He paused in the entryway, body tensing. A return of the bad feeling. Checking again. Nothing.
Movement.
Eyes locked with his. Hot breath. The whisper of a blade far too close to his kidney for comfort. The form pulled backwards. Another blade. A hiss of air. A spray of blood. Dead eyes. The body of the assassin dropped to the carpet which had a steady stain of green growing across the cream.
An accented voice: “You should not be here. No longer safe.”
A spike in heart rate, a realization.
Assassination. Far too close. Both in time and in how close he came to watching his own murder.
There was a long, guilty pause.
Taybrim: ~This was six days ago, now.~
For a moment, Alora sat frozen, her eyes wide, and the fear? It shifted, shifted from something that lingered deep within and became focused. It was fear for him.
DeVeau: ~Who?~
Taybrim: ~I’m on the Tal Shiar’s hit list~ ::he admitted.::
A foreign feeling welled up in Sal’s chest. Anxiety, discomfort, the seeds of terror that something might be lingering in the shadows at every turn. Terror that bred paranoia. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like checking over his shoulders, he didn’t like the memory of blood spraying across his quarters or coming a hair’s breadth to death.
He hadn’t shared as much as she had expected, but what he had was mortifying. She moved. Without thinking, without hesitation, she shifted, pulling herself out of his grasp so that she could encircle her arms around him, drawing him into her embrace, as if by the mere act of doing so could ward off any threat, any danger.
DeVeau: ~You’re safe now.~
Hesitation. Pain. A spark of fear that flashed, burned and faded all at once.
Taybrim: ~ I’m not. ~
DeVeau: ~You’re safe here.~
Taybrim: ~I am safe, here, in this moment. But when we return to StarBase 118 I am not. There will be another. And another. And another. I do not know what will stop them - if anything.~
He was right. As much as Alora loathed to admit it, he was right. He wasn’t going to be safe once they returned. The Tal Shiar had him in their sites, and they were a particularly deadly foe. Her grip on him tightened.
DeVeau: ~Is there an investigation? Has anything been found?~
Would they be able to find anything? Intelligence hadn’t brought anything to her, but would they? Sal hadn’t said anything to her until now.
Taybrim: ~Yes there is, it is ongoing, and no. They identified the assassin, and tied it to the Tal Shiar… I’m not sure what else there is to find.~
DeVeau: ~We’ll keep you safe.~
How? Alora had no idea. Absolutely none. All she knew was that she couldn’t allow anyone or anything to hurt him.
Taybrim: ~I know you will try.~
He said it with a sorrowful acceptance. He was in no way trying to die. But he was aware that it was a growing possibility.
She would try. Alora didn’t want to think about what would happen if she or anyone else failed. Her hold upon him tightened, then loosened suddenly and she withdrew.
DeVeau: ~Why didn’t you tell me?~
Hurt seeped through the bond, past his shields.
Taybrim: ~Do you think it is easy to rebound and immediately talk about such things?~
He honestly had to process what happened, first - and sleep. He had spent too many insomniac nights immediately succeeding the attempt.
She was quiet for a moment, though she winced both inwardly and outwardly at the admonishment, and even more at the hurt that she felt come from him. Alora knew very well the answer to that question.
DeVeau: ~No. I know it’s not.~
Taybrim: ~I will be honest with my staff moving forward and allow you to help me. That is the best I can do.~
She wanted to reach out, wanted to draw him close again, wanted to somehow make it all go away. But she couldn’t. Alora had no power. And she hated it.
DeVeau: ~I wish I could fix this.~
Taybrim: ~I know. But it is both within our hands to be careful and far outside our reach to control.~
She knew that, but that didn’t stop her from wanting it, but that was far beyond Alora’s power.
DeVeau: ~What can I do?~
He seemed quite plain in his initial thought process.
Taybrim: ~Keep doing what you are doing. You are a tremendous help on StarBase 118.~
Quickly she shook her head.
DeVeau: ~No. What can I do to help you?~
A pause and what seeped through the link was a deep, overwhelming exhaustion, laced with an undercurrent of loneliness.
Taybrim: ~I’m not sure. I’m tired. But I have to keep going.~
She was familiar with that as well. She knew those emotions, those feelings. Alora was far too acquainted with them. She hesitated again, uncertain. Her own trials, her own troubles were pushed aside for the man in front of him. Slowly, she reached out again, her fingers lightly dancing over the back of his hand.
DeVeau: ~You’re not alone.~
She’d heard the same thing, had been offered to her as well, but with the link between them, he could sense the depth of sincerity in each word as she uttered them. She wasn’t much, and maybe she was useless in dealing with the Tal Shiar, but if nothing else, she could offer that.
Taybrim: ~ I know. ~
Slowly, he backed out from the telepathic bond. Not due to avoidance, or pain, but she could feel his concentration fray and mental exhaustion set in. What was once his baseline communication form was now an exhausting endeavor, and he was sitting far lower in the chair than before.
Taybrim: I know ::He murmured.::
Did he know? She hoped so. Once more, Alora withdrew, her hand retreated and she clasped it to the other one.
Taybrim: I’m tired.
The words just fell from his mouth, simple, honest, plain.
DeVeau: You should sleep.
Could he rest? Would he really sleep? Alora wasn’t sure she was going to sleep herself that night. She slid her arms over each other, as if warding off a chill.
Taybrim: I should. And so should you. ::He said with a weariness that indicated it would be difficult for both.
DeVeau: I should.
There was no question of whether or not she should. It was more whether or not she would. There was a new reason to fear, a new nightmare that would join the old. Her gaze lifted, meeting his and for a moment it seemed as if she would say more, but no words came. Instead, her eyes drifted away and toward the door, then back to him, and whatever she might have said before shifted into something completely different.
DeVeau: Do you want me to walk you to your cabin?
He paused and considered, and the words he chose were unexpected, even for him.
Taybrim: Neither of us will be sleeping tonight, will we?
Alora offered a half smile, but there was no real humour in it.
DeVeau: No.
Taybrim: It is not unusual when your mind is too full.
Hers had been too full for some time. There were periods where it was better, where she was able to rest, able to sleep. But then…
DeVeau: It’s...been that way for a while.
Taybrim: Then let’s walk. Walk until the body has no choice but to sleep.
Walk. If only it were that simple. Still, it was better than sitting there trying to distract herself, even with things she enjoyed. Better than running through the scenes over and over and over again, only to have them end the same way every time. Or now, with the new nightmare, into the possibility of what could happen in the future. That was just as frightening.
A moment of silence stretched between them, but finally Alora nodded.
DeVeau: Let’s walk.
It wouldn’t solve anything, but at least she wouldn’t be leaving him alone. At least for a little while longer.
Taybrim: Maybe if we walk until the sun rises, we’ll understand that there is yet hope. ::he murmured, getting to his feet.::
Sometimes it didn’t feel that way. Sometimes, when the darkness closed in and the shadows clutched at the throat, when the nightmares hammered night after night, when the fear threatened to utterly consume, it didn’t feel like it at all. Except she had to remember that was just a lie, a lie the mind told because it was too wrapped up in it all. She’d fallen into that trap. She didn’t want to fall into it again. Rising, she nodded, speaking the words she knew to be true, even if it was hard to remember that truth.
DeVeau: There is always hope.
He offered an arm out for her. A chance for something to hold. Something to lean on.
Taybrim: The sun will always rise again.
Her hand slowly slid through his arm, but she gave as much as she took, leaning and offering herself for him to do the same. The smile that fluttered over her lips was small, but a light shone within it.
Deveau: Then let us watch it rise together.
Taybrim: Lets.
It wasn’t much, but it was a thin comfort. And sometimes thin comfort and the promise of hope was better than none.
******
Commodore Sal Taybrim Commanding Officer StarBase 118 Ops E239010ST0
&
--
Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau
First Officer
Starbase 118 Ops
M239008AD0