Chapter Fourteen: Tom
The cargo ship full of humans was small in comparison to the vessels in his father's fleet but was sizable nonetheless. It was plodding along at light speed, an outdated mode of transport. The sensors didn't even register it as a ship, it was so slow. It was a bulky thing, and Tom couldn't help but wonder how ancient it was. There really was no way of knowing, since the few artifacts that archaeologists had been able to scavenge from Earth were just too old to date, and it was really their only reference point, seeing as the ship was filled with humans.
He stared at the bathroom door, his supplies gathered around him. The days when his musth was at its peak were terrible, and Sara filled his thoughts until he thought he would go mad with need for her. But he had resisted breaking open the bathroom doors, and since then while they had talked a little, nothing was resolved. His musth might not be as strong, but it was barely over. The hormones and pheromones were still messing with their heads, and they couldn't trust their feelings.
With a sigh, he knocked on the doors.
Sara opened them at once. She looked pale and tired, but considering her confinement, that wasn't surprising. Her uniform was grubby. "We've arrived."
Tom nodded. "I'm going to head over and establish a drag shield, so I can drag the ship through space at full speed. I would like your help, Sara. I know you don't trust me, but—"
"But you want me to trust you anyway." She sighed and shrugged. "If I do help you, what happens to me?"
"If you still don't believe me when we get to where I'm going, I will take you to a USC-controlled world and leave you there. You'll never hear from me again."
She'll understand once we reach the sanctuary. She'll see that I meant it when I said I wanted to help these humans.
Sara studied him for a moment before she nodded. "I suppose you've had plenty of opportunities to sell me or use me or whatever else if that was your plan. I'll help you."
Tom released a breath of relief he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Thank you."
Sara stepped out of the bathroom. "Do we need space suits?"
Tom shook his head. "I've done scans. Conditions over there are suitable for both our species. I'm not registering any lifeforms, but I think we ought to take our weapons anyway."
"We?"
Looking Sara in the eye, he handed her a blaster. Her brows rose slightly as she accepted it, and Tom turned his back, praying he had made the right choice in trusting her. If she shot him in the back… well, he wouldn’t be alive to regret it, would he? He picked up his supplies, slinging a pack over his shoulders.
Sara was still watching him with narrowed eyes. "And you need me for this excursion because…?"
"Rayo might not have been the only one that the corporation sent. My hands are going to be full as I anchor the drag net. I need you to watch my back."
"You—" the lieutenant cut herself off and shook her head. "Okay. I'll end up starving to death if you're not here to pilot me away."
"You're a pilot."
"Yeah, but… the ship's controls are set to your DNA, aren't they?"
They weren't. But Sara wouldn’t believe him if he said that, would she? It wouldn't be the smart thing to do. "Let's go."
***
Tom had docked his ship on the hull of the cargo ship, clamping over a weapons port. It was easy enough to cut through and gain entrance. Soon he and Sara were standing in a long, oddly wide corridor. Everything was sharp, jutting angles, made from a crystalline structure that looked like stained glass. A dim blue glow emitted from pods up and down the corridor. Peering into the closest one, Tom saw a female human face inside, skin the same hue as his mother's, eyes closed, hair overgrown and matted.
"There's so many of them," Sara whispered in awe, as though they were in a church. "How many?"
"Our estimates from the recon data is at least six hundred. We'll have to do a count of the survivors when we get them to the sanctuary."
Sara nodded. "Do you think they were taken by the same people who took me from Earth?"
"Maybe. It's impossible to tell." Tom watched Sara's face as angry lines creased her eyes. "The technology of all the ships we've found humans in seems similar. So it's possible that they're the same ones to have taken you."
"What did they even want with us?"
"Slave labor, maybe. Maybe they ate humans." Sara turned a dirty look on him and he shrugged. He gestured down the hallway. "We have to put anchors at twelve spots if we're going to drag the ship back without tearing it to pieces. The sooner they're in place the sooner we can get away."
The air was cold enough for Tom to see his breath crystallizing in the air. Silence pressed in on them, made all the more eerie by the sleeping faces all about them. Some of them were probably dead; decomposition wouldn’t happen in the stasis pods, and so there was no way of knowing who was alive and who was dead until they were opened.
They worked their way through the ship quickly, planting the anchors in strategic locations. Neither spoke. Just as Tom planted the fourth anchor, footsteps echoed down the corridor. Tom jumped to his feet and Sara tensed. They both darted to either side of the corridor, hiding behind the pods.
A voice rang through the hall. "We've got movement."
Tom bit back a curse, struggling to release himself from the confines of his pack. More footsteps echoed towards them.
His heart nearly stopped when Sara stepped out from her protected hiding spot and held her hands in the air. "I am Lieutenant Sara O'Neill of the UCS, identify yourselves at once."
"O'Neill?" A familiar voice said. "Well, well. I thought that T'shav would have spaced you by now."
Flanard. Tom cursed. How had he gotten here? Did I miss a second tracker?
"Colonel." Sara's hands dropped. "Am I glad to see you!"
"Lieutenant, you shouldn’t be. After you told me about what your lover's mission was, I contacted the Ruziers Corporation. They transferred his retainer to me once they found out that he was really the son of the warlord Zon."
Sara stepped back. Her gaze flickered to Tom, eyes wide.
"It's a shame I have to kill you. I took a look at your record. You're a good soldier. But then, you wouldn’t have stayed one, anyway. You'd be ejected from the Corps, whether for helping a dangerous criminal or—"
Tom dropped his pack and jumped into the corridor, firing rapidly at the colonel and his men as he shielded Sara with his body. She fired from under his arm, a hand on his hip as she guided him towards the shelter again.
Gunfire answered back as the USC dove for cover. Tom continued to fire, aiming at any scrap of person that he saw poking out from between the pods. He didn't dare think about the casualties of this firefight; the humans in the pods now taking blasts. The two hid behind the nearest pod, Sara crouching at his feet.
"Give up," the colonel shouted. "You don't have a chance!"
"We'll see."
Sara spun around, a hand going to her face. Tom saw her plunge her fingers into her eye socket from the corner of his eye. Something small and round spun down the corridor. Sara grabbed him, pulling him back. Her hands clapped over his ears, and out of instinct he did the same for her. A flash of light, a high-pitched grating sound, and everything was still.
"Your eyes are grenades?" Tom asked, heart hammering, as he stared at the human.
Sara shrugged. One eyelid dropped over the empty socket, but she grinned. "Why have bionic eyes if you can't use them to sneak explosives around? Just stun grenades, though. I'll get them tied up and put somewhere secure while you finish the anchors."
Tom almost kissed her. But he knew a single kiss wouldn't be enough, and there wasn't time for anything else. Besides, they had to talk first. He encountered patrols twice more, but they were easily dispatched. After he settled the anchors, he returned to his ship. His mate was already waiting for him.
"So how do we get out of here without the colonel's ship blowing us up?" Sara asked, taking the co-pilot's chair as he sat in the pilot's chair.
"Easy." Tom smiled at her as he hailed the USC ship hanging in space next to them. "Greetings, soldiers of the United Species. My name is Tom, and I am the son of Zon, warlord protector of the Rouge Systems. My sensors are telling me that your ship is powering its weapons. I advise against that. Half my father's fleet is on its way. They should be here in a few minutes. I'm sure my father would love to show you what happens to people who threaten his son."
The colonel's ship was gone in two seconds. As expected, they weren't about to mess with Zon's family. Tom nodded in satisfaction, activating the anchors on the cargo ship. The net activated. There were no interruptions in power, so it would hold. He set the course, and they were off.
"So… you really were trying to help these humans," Sara said. She wrapped her arms around her middle. "And you really are Zon's agent. His son."
"I am. I don't blame you for not trusting me, though. I should have—"
Sara shook her head. She pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing him. "There's time enough for that later. Right now I have something you need to know."
Tom's brow furrowed but he nodded.
"I'm pregnant. And it's your baby. I understand if you don't want to—"
Tom held up his hand. His breathing was shallow, eyes wide with wonder. "You're pregnant?"
Sara bit her lip and nodded. "I shouldn't have kept it a secret."
"There's time enough for that later," Tom whispered, echoing her words. He threaded his hands into her hair and kissed her. "Time and more than enough time."
Sara moaned and threw her arms around him, bringing herself to him like a woman possessed. Tom was only too happy to let her carry him away.
She all but threw him against the wall, catching his mouth in hers, her hands pressing against his shoulders, pinning him into place. His arms circled her hips, his hands cupping the soft but firm roundness of her rear end. When she slipped a leg between his, grinding against him, he let out a moan.
"You're mine," she whispered, breaking from his mouth to pepper kisses along his jaw and neck. Her actions had a strong, immediate effect on him. Muscles began trembling with desire, his stomach tightening.
Her hands drifted down his body, fumbling with the clasps on his clothing. Tom was more than happy to help her, and soon his clothing was in a heap on the floor. Her clothes quickly followed. A purple flush rose in his lover's cheeks as she stepped back and took a good look at him.
"Stupid Flanard. It's all his fault I didn't get any of this while you were in the height of musth."
Tom gripped her hips, walking her back towards the table. "You'll have another chance next year."
A grin nearly split Sara’s face. "And the year after that."
He made to lay her on the table but she shook her head and turned swiftly so she was pressing him against it. "You're the big strong T'shav warrior and most time I'll be fine with giving you total control. But tonight you are mine, understood?"
Tom rose a brow. He never gave up control. Not for anybody. But as Sara encouraged him to sit on the table, a coy smile lighting her face, he realized that breaking rules had its own rewards. He perched on the edge of the table.
"You are beautiful," she whispered, kneeling between his legs.
Her touch was light as she ran a hand up his thigh before taking him into her mouth. Tom fought for control as powerful waves of pleasure coursed through him. His head fell back and he let out a throaty groan. A giggle from Sara did interesting things to him and he fought the urge to add his own movements. Instead he rested his hand on her head, weaving his fingers through her hair as he felt her rhythm.
A groan had him looking back down at her. She had a hand between her legs. He found himself wishing that it was her on the table and him kneeling before her, able to give her this wonderful pleasure.
"Sara," he moaned, feeling his pupils expand as he gazed down at the curve of her spine leading to the twin globes of her perfectly squeezable ass. He trembled on the edge and gripped Sara's shoulder, pushing her away.
Luckily she knew what he meant and quickly stood, pushing him further onto the table and climbing over him. The firmness of her knees squeezed his hips as she straddled him. That coy, teasing smile was back as she pressed a kiss to his mouth before allowing him to enter her.
Her warmth and tightness nearly undid him, but he bit his lip and braced himself against the table. Sara set the rhythm, the heat building between them all the faster from the weeks they spent longing for one another but refusing to give into their desires.
Tom gazed at his lover, his Starmate, the mother of his unborn child. He loved the way her shoulders shuddered, the way she let her head fall back and arched her back, pressing her breasts upwards like an offering. They were too delicious to resist, and Tom bent over her, kissing first one, then the other. He was rewarded by another moan.
He was so close he wasn't sure how much longer he was going to last but he grunted and held back. He would see his beautiful human find release first. Thank the stars, she was as close as him. Within moments she threw her head back, letting out an almighty scream. Her body sagged against his. He caught her and held her close as he released his own desperate control.
Strength fled and he collapsed back, the table creaking dangerously. Sara's warm body lay over his. He stroked her hair as they both panted. Eventually they swapped a few kisses before Sara rolled off him. Her arm rested on her stomach as she smiled blissfully at the ceiling.
"How can it get better than that?" she wondered aloud.
"I don't know. But I'm looking forward to seeing if it can."
With a sigh she rolled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her. He smiled. It was good to know that he had found his Starmate. And that she had found him.