by T. S. Ryder
Sara slammed her hand on the comm. "This is Lieutenant Sara O'Neill of the United Species Corps, release this ship at once!"
"They're not going to—" Tom cut off as the ship shuddered. It spun slightly, and the view screen showed another ship hovering above them, the docking clamps retreating back inside. His eyes widened. "Okay, that was unexpected."
A voice came over the comm. "O'Neill. Long time no see, friend."
***
The leader of the pirates that had attacked them was named Toridge. She was an old colleague of Sara's from their days of training, and apparently Toridge owed Sara her life. Tom had been ready to take the opportunity to flee and get far away from the pirates, but apparently, there was some sort of social convention that said if the pirate was an old friend, even if you were on opposite sides of the law, you have to go over to their ship to partake in a big feast.
Sara wouldn't let Tom talk her out of going, and Tom wasn't going to let her go alone. So now he found himself surrounded by the filth of the galaxy. He would have been happy to kill them all for the crimes that they had committed against travelers not so lucky to have known their captain, but they outnumbered him and Sara, so diplomacy was the best way to continue.
They were all sitting around a table, dishes of food stretched out along the length. Species of all kinds were there, although Tom noticed there weren't any T'shav.
And yet his people were blasted as mercenaries and pirates wherever they went.
"So how did you end up here?" Sara asked her old friend as she snacked on some type of fruit.
Toridge snorted. "You’re going to arrest me?"
"With my extensive backup? Nah. Actually, I'm probably going to be court-martialed for going AWOL if I ever get back to the Corps." Sara looked wistful for a moment and shook her head. "Funny how life can take all your plans and put them through the power converters."
"AWOL? You?" Toridge shook her head. "I never would have thought it. And with a T'shav no less! How did that happen?"
"Long story," Tom interrupted. He had no desire for this pirate to have any of his personal information. "And we really should be on our way."
"You haven't even eaten anything," Toridge protested. "And I intend on having a long, long chat with my friend here."
"I'm on a musth fast," Tom lied. "Sara and I have business to attend to on one of the distant planets."
"Musth?" Toridge's eyes narrowed. "Sara, are you—"
"Relax. I've been with him for… what, a month now? Or has it been longer than that?" Sara thought a moment and shrugged. "It's been a while, anyway, and he's just started to enter into the musth, which he warned me about and offered to drop me off on a planet so I wouldn't have to deal with it."
"And you stayed?"
"I wanted to. We're good, you don't have to worry. But he's right. We do have some pretty urgent business that we need to take care of."
"Oh, it can wait for a few hours—"
A crash at the opposite side of the room drew everybody's attention. A Dibat stood there, a pile of dishes around his feet, staring at Tom. The T'shav rested his hand on the gun strapped to his thigh, tensing at the pure hostility radiating from the alien. All chatter died away.
"You," the Dibat said, pointing at Tom. "I know you!"
"I'm afraid I don't know you," Tom replied coolly. "Perhaps you have me mixed up with another T'shav."
The Dibat barked out a laugh. "I don't think so. We've never met, but I would know your face anywhere. The half-human T'shav… your father killed my father."
Tom's lips tightened. A pirate with a grudge. Great. This could not end well. His began drawing out his gun. "My father killed only those that deserved it."
"Deserved it?" The Dibat's voice rose. "Who decides what murder is righteous? My father was a soldier! But at least now I get to kill you, and your father will know the pain of—"
Tom whipped out his gun as the Dibat drew his own. A blaster shot rang through the room. Tom's weapon had not yet cleared the table. He looked around and found Sara on her feet, her blaster in both hands, pointed at the Dibat, a hard expression on her face.
The Dibat dropped, his corpse smoking.
Tom grabbed Sara's hand, pulling her back with him as he shielded her with his body, pointing his gun at Toridge as the captain drew her own weapon. Everybody jumped to their feet, guns pointed at them from every side. Adrenaline spiked. If he used the chair as a shield he might be able to get Sara out of here…
"Tom is my friend, Tori," Sara said. "Your Dibat was going to kill him, and I didn't hear you trying to diffuse the situation."
Toridge didn't look at Sara. She stared at Tom with unbridled fear on her face. "Perhaps it's because I was too surprised to find out who your companion is to stop Cli."
"How did you—" Sara stared.
"Cli told me who killed his father. You should have told me that you were traveling with a warlord's son, Sara. You should go. Now."
Keeping his mate behind him, Tom backed towards the doors, ignoring Sara's protests. He squeezed her hand, his heart pounding. When he was out on missions like this one, he had to keep his heritage a secret. He had risked too much by telling her his true name already–what if she thoughtlessly called him Tom instead of Bond in a public area? If the Ruziers Corporation found out his true identity… well, they would kill him without a second thought.
Toridge accompanied them down to the docks, where Tom's ship, dwarfed in comparison to the pirate's vessel, sat.
"I don't understand what's happening here," Sara said, shaking her head. "You're a deep-space pirate, no warlord is going to destroy you for hosting his son!"
"You really don't know who he is, do you?" Toridge glanced at Tom. "He's not just any warlord's son, he's—"
"I will explain everything on the ship," Tom interrupted.
Sara looked between the two of them, a bewildered expression on her face. "Why don't you want her to tell me?"
"It's complicated."
"Captain!" A crew member raced into the docking bays. He skidded to a stop before Toridge. "Captain, we're receiving a hails. It's Colonel Flanard of the USC."
"The USC?" Toridge turned furious eyes on Sara. "What's this, O'Neill? You pretend like you're AWOL and you're really bringing the USC down on us?"
Tom pointed his weapon at the captain, snarling. "If you threaten her, you die."
"It's not like that, Tori. Colonel Flanard? I don't even know who that is."
"He has a new H-class Clacston. We'd stand no chance against it," the crew member continued, as though the tension wasn't building to dangerous levels.
"Did the colonel say what he wants?" Toridge demanded, keeping an eye on Tom while she palmed her holstered gun. She didn’t draw it. Tom would shoot her.
"Yes, Sir." The crewmember looked at Sara and Tom. "He wants them. He wants them sent over in an escape pod and their ship released to his custody. He says that if you do as he says, he'll leave us alone."
The bottom of Tom's stomach dropped. What would a USC colonel possibly want with him and Sara? Was this a rescue mission, or something else? The pirate captain looked between the two of them and shrugged.
"Then we send them over. Ready an escape pod for them."
Chapter Nine: Sara
As soon as Sara and Tom were onboard, Flanard had Tom arrested. Sara braced herself, expecting a severe dressing-down before she, too, was thrown in the brig. The colonel was Aphrosian, deceptively slender-boned with skin the color of a robin's egg. They were among the strongest species in the galaxy, despite their lean frames. They also had a reputation of taking no nonsense. It was why Sara had picked the species to masquerade as.
"Welcome back, Lieutenant," the colonel said instead. "I am glad to see you alive and well."
Sara's brows rose.
"We've been looking for you ever since we got word of your abduction. The T'shav has some nerve, taking a Corps officer as a hostage."
So that was how her actions were b
eing reported? Sara swallowed hard, nodding. If she admitted that she had had the chance to return to her post and instead stayed with Tom, she would be put in the brig along with him. And where would that put their mission? Could she trust him with what they were doing?
"Report to the med bay for a checkup and then come to my ready room to begin your debriefing," Flanard said. He offered Sara a small smile. "It's good to have you back, lieutenant."
Sara nodded at him. The checkup would include scans, which always posed a risk to revealing her identity, but they would be surface scans. As long as they didn't penetrate into her DNA, it would be fine. She saluted the Colonel and let the petty officer assigned as her escort guide her towards the medical bay.
***
When Flanard sat her down for the debriefing, Sara stared at the probes that buzzed around her head, recording her from every angle. She remembered that in these situations the recordings were analyzed by professionals to assess the honesty of the individual. So there was really no point in lying.
"Take your time," Flanard said, sitting across the table from her. "I'm sure it was a traumatic experience."
"Actually, it wasn't traumatic at all,"
Flanard's brows creased. "I have heard of cases where the individual taken hostage begins to identify with their captor."
"That's not what's happening here. Tom never took me hostage."
"Tom." The colonel leaned back in his chair, looking even more confused. "The individual you are traveling with is in our records as Bond. A rather nasty sheet—"
"His name is Tom," Sara interrupted. "He has been going by Bond to keep his mission secret. He was hired by the Ruziers Corporation to retrieve a ship going at light speed full of humans in stasis and bring them back to the core, where they can be awoken and put into a sanctuary, to help them adjust to the shock and protect them from less than savory individuals."
Flanard's eyes widened. "Holy burnt stars!"
Sara had never heard that particular phrase before and stared back at the colonel, hoping that she had made the right call.
"How many humans are there?"
"I'm uncertain of the exact numbers, but it seems to be at least a minimum viable population. I thought it was my duty to aid his mission. Those humans need to be brought back to the core."
Flanard nodded slowly. "Yes… yes, of course. They are of the utmost importance. This could signify a great financial windfall for the United Species."
"Windfall?" Sara stuttered, her heartrate spiking. "Humans aren't just some sort of product. They're sentient beings that deserve respect."
Flanard stood and paced from one end of the ready room to the other, seemingly ignoring her. Sara's hands clenched under the table. Had she just made a terrible mistake that would severely cost her fellow humans in that ship? She should have just kept her mouth shut! But how else could she have begun convincing the colonel to release Tom?
"Sir, I did not abandon my duties to the core so that these humans could end up being sold like lab rats!"
"Of course not." The colonel turned back to her. "And I'm not suggesting that the United Species will treat them as such. But just imagine the possibilities! That many humans—"
"Deserve their sanctuary, where they can live in peace and try to build a new civilization for themselves."
"Humans never had civilization. They could hardly manage light speed."
A well of anger rose up in Sara. She got to her feet and shook her head. "All of the alien species living today evolved from humans. And the ones that we find in these light speed containers most likely were probably from before space travel. But that doesn't mean they didn't have civilization, with government and laws, social boundaries, culture."
"Lieutenant—"
"I know because I am human."
Flanard stopped dead. "Excuse me?"
"I'm human." Sara raised her chin. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be terrified that if you're discovered, you'll end up in a laboratory? A human sanctuary needs to be built, and those humans need to be allowed to live their lives without that constant fear!"
"Human." Flanard shook his head. "Well, that explains how you're pregnant with a T'shav baby."
Sara felt like she had been punched in the chest. She couldn’t breathe. Her mouth fell open, but she couldn’t get the words out. Pregnant? She had known there was a risk, but it had been so long since her cycle… she hadn't really thought that it would be possible anymore…
"You weren't aware that you carried his child?"
Sara mutely shook her head.
"Our scans indicate you're three standard weeks pregnant. You are aware of Corps policy as far as hybrid babies go, yes?" Flanard's voice had become gentle.
Ice flooded Sara's veins. Humans were the only species that could carry hybrid babies to term. Any attempts between the other species to have a mixed-heritage baby always ended in miscarriages, stillbirths, or babies born with horrible deformities that only survived for a few hours. Most often the mothers also died from trying to carry the babies to term.
And so it was Corps policy that as soon as a hybrid pregnancy was discovered in its ranks, the pregnancy was either terminated or the mother ejected from the Corps. It was proclaimed to be for their own safety.
"I'm human. I can carry the baby safely to term."
"And as humans have only recently come to our attention, there is no exceptions made for them."
It was too new. She needed time to think, to decide what she wanted. Closing her eyes, she swallowed hard and nodded. "I need time to decide whether I will end the pregnancy or tender my resignation."
"Understood. I will have you taken to your quarters."
Sara felt numb as she followed her escort. He chatted blithely, completely unaware of her turmoil. What was she going to do? Did she tell Tom, or did she keep it to herself until she decided? Did she want to be responsible for a child, another living being? Where would her career be if she decided to keep it? And where would she be? Military life was all she knew, could she even get a job as a civilian?
"And our brig is just one floor down," her escort said, his constant chatter bringing Sara out of her thoughts.
The brig?
Tom.
Well, there was certainly one thing that she could be absolutely certain mattered, that she knew she needed to do. Those humans on that ship needed to be brought in by someone who would make sure that they would be safe and be able to live their lives.
Before the thought was even fully solidified in her mind, Sara had grabbed the petty officer in a chokehold. The little alien squirmed, attempting to fight her off, but she held on tightly, cutting off his air. Soon he slumped. Her heart was in her mouth as Sara laid him down and relieved him of his weapons. The brig was right below them, and she had a jailbreak to complete.
Well, I guess this solves one problem, she thought grimly as she took off, running as hard as she could. After this, my career is definitely over.
Chapter Ten: Tom
Tom sat in the brig, head against the wall, eyes closed. If worst came to worse, his father would get him out of this trouble he found himself in. If that happened, though, the mission was over. It would then be a race against time to get to those humans first.
Ideally, he would talk with this Colonel Flanard, and strike a deal with him. The Ruziers Corporation thought that he was working for them, why couldn't he convince Flanard that he would get a cut of the profits. Bribing was also an option, as were threats of his father's might and power.
Would he be allowed to speak with Sara? She knew details about him and his mission, and she might just tell Flanard about it if she thought it would help his case. They had had a little time to speak in the escape pod coming over to this ship, but not enough. Tom hadn't even considered that she might tell Flanard about the mission and his real name until they were being separated aboard the USC ship.
And if she was going to have a chance to keep her career after this was over they had
to believe that she was his hostage. So he had kept his mouth shut.
The energy barrier that made up the door to his cell blinked and went out. Tom got to his feet, mind racing as he tried to decide what to do with Flanard. His eyes widened as Sara strode into the cell instead.
"They let you see me?"
"No. This is a jailbreak. Hurry. I rejigged the internal sensors to go haywire and I started a fire the floor above us, but we don't have much time before Flanard figures out what's going on." She grabbed his hand. Her palm was sticky with sweat. "We have to move."
This meant the end of her career, but it was too late to change that now, so the two of them headed down the corridor. Sara handed him a weapon, which he gratefully took. They didn't encounter anybody on their path to the docking bays. There they had to stun a few workers but quickly found his ship. Tom ran to the pilot's chair at once and navigated the ship through the barrier that kept the cold of space out.
Everything was going smoothly. Too smoothly. Flanard's ship didn't even chase after them.
"That was easy," Sara said once they were on their way. "I am good. They didn't even see us leave."
Tom sat in the pilot's chair, plotting in a course. The ship's computer was a specialized one that wiped out his navigations whenever he stopped, or if other ships came too close. It was a safety precaution he had learned well years ago.
Now he wondered if it was going to be enough.
It was far too easy to escape Flanard's ship. Which could only mean one thing. "What deal did you strike with him?"
Sara turned her golden eyes on him. "What?"
Tom strode to the panels that accessed the ship's navigation controls. His hands trembled as he ripped them open and began poking around inside. Sara watched him, her eyes wide. Because she found his behavior surprising, or because she knew it meant he suspected? He wanted to punch the wall until the bones in his hand shattered. His Starmate had betrayed him.
"They let us go. Or at least they let me go." There were no tracking devices in the navigation controls, and so he went to the weapons, another easily accessed point. "Did you tell him about my mission? Did you agree to split the profits of selling off the humans we find there?"